Clock

Clock

by: Janet Valentina

It’s 10.00 o’clock in the morning. I just opened my clock shop, later than usual. Thesedays there aren’t many people who are interested in buying antiques, especially in early mornings, not like the old days when everyone loves cuckoo clocks. I bet today’s going to be another plain day, spent for cleaning my clocks, serving few customers. 

“Sir?” I was cleaning an owl-shaped clock when a kid suddenly appeared at the door. He looks around 10. I actually never had such a young customer before. I wonder if he’s going to be one, well, I also wonder why such a young kid would want to visit an old clock shop.

“Good morning, kid. How can I help you?” I smiled. He looks pretty curious, I can tell from how he peeks from behind the door. He doesn’t reply, yet his big eyes are wandering around my shop.

“How can I help you, kid? Do you want to look around? Just come inside to get a closer look.” I offered him a welcome.

The young boy still hesitates, but then he decides to walk inside. He finally stands right in front of my table. He seems more relaxed, not as hesitant as he was before. I suddenly start feeling worried now. The thing is, my clock shop is not located in a busy downtown. Although it’s pretty popular around here, I don’t think it’s easy to find my shop, especially if  you’re a very young child. I can surely say my shop is not a really a favourite place for children.Not even close. Is he lost?

“My dad said you have the best clocks in town.” His little voice breaks the silence.

“Well, thank you. My shop is the oldest one here though. I thought you might be interested in new and sophisticated ones? I only own antiques that your parents would like.”

He shooks his head and gave me a simple smile.

“What is that? Can you get it for me?”  He points his finger to the top of the shelf behind me. I think he’s pointing to a very old clock. It’s small and, a little bit dusty. Not for sale, either. It was a clock I made by myself, meant to be a birthday gift for my wife, but I wasn’t able to give it to her. Ten years ago, 2 days before her birthday, she passed away without saying any goodbye. I was too busy fixing and making clocks so that I could pay the hospital bills. But then a single phone call stopped me from working. A heart-breaking news that made me feel dying inside.

“Sir?”

“Oh, well, it’s not for sale, kid. But you’ve got good eyes.” I tried to smile, but it came out bitter.

“It’s a really nice clock, sir. Are you sure it’s not for sale? People would want to buy it, like I do.” His eyes got bigger.

“It’s just an old clock, kid. I have newer ones, like these. But I’m sorry, the clock you want is not for sale.” I showed him a few clocks I just made. They look a bit modern, I think. I don’t even know why I’m trying to adjust to modern things thesedays, while I know it’s not my style to make those kind of things.

He doesn’t seem interested. I can tell because his eyes got smaller, not as excited as before.

“Sir, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, kid. What is it?” I replied.

“Is it wrong to be not on time?”

“Sorry? What do you mean?” I get confused.

“My mom used to tell me that I have to be always on time. She would always remind me to know what time it is. She said that things will be alright if everything is on time.

I’ve always loved being on time.”

“Then why did you ask me about being not on time? Were you late for school and feel guilty for that or anything?” I asked. Puzzled. I think it’s just another children’s confusion about school and classes.

“No. It’s just.. I wanted to be with mom longer. But everything has to be on time, right? Come on time, and leave on time.”  It hit me hard. I think I finally understand what this is about. I don’t know what to say to this kid.

“I didn’t know when mom had to leave, because I didn’t have my own clock with me. So I’m here to buy a clock from you. I have to know better, next time.” He looks pretty determined to me now. And sad at the same time.

“You must be very on time, sir. Since you have clocks with you all the time. Is that why you make clocks all the time? So you know when the time is, for everything?”

Is that why?

I just realized that I never thought about it. About why I chose being a clock maker for years rather than trying more common jobs which would pay better. My dad left me this clock shop of his before he died, but he told me to do whatever I want for a living.

I ended up taking care of the clock shop for 20 years now. And still counting.

Making clocks, fixing clocks, working over time to provide people time. It’s almost as if I could control the time. Hah, now it’s getting funny to think about it.

Control the time?

I start to look around my shop. Clocks everywhere. Oldest ones, and the newest ones I tried to adjust to modern life that people are crazy about.

Everything starts to become blurry and flashbacks are coming after me. When I first handled my own clock shop, when I met my wife and we ran the clock shop together, when she passed away and everything weirdly, still felt as if she was still here..

I understand now.

I've been running this clock shop not because my dad left it to me, nor because I love being a clock maker. Well I am always on time, because time has been a part of me for a long while, but that’s not it. I feel secure the most when I’m in my clock shop. Clocks ticking, and I’m handling it. I can control the time, literally. And that gives me the best feeling in the world.

I’ve always wished that I could turn back the time, all these years..

And this kid, just made me realized that I’d never be able to do that. I have to move on.

I feel a bit depressed, yet I feel relieved. Maybe it’s what has been missing from my life. A new hope. A plan. A future. I’ve always wandered back through time just to make me feel happy, daydreaming while doing my job. This is the first time in 10 years that I feel spirited. Thanks to this kid.

I climbed up the ladder and took the small clock. The one the little boy wanted. The one I planned to give to my wife, before she passed away.

The boy’s already walking towards the door, then I called him.

“Kid. I’ve got something for you.”

He turns around, confused. “Oh, what is it, sir?”

I walk to him and give him the clock. “It’s for you. Consider it a gift. I mean, it’s not for sale, right?” I smiled widely, wider than ever before.

His eyes got bigger again, and I can tell he’s really pleased now.  “Thank you sir, thank you, so much. I’ll show this to my dad.” He ran outside and disappeared in no time.

I went back to what I was doing. Cleaning my clocks. But everything feels much different now.

All of my burdens are gone. I realized how much I have missed in my life. Like how much I've loved fishing, for example. or how long I've been longing to travel around the cities.

So I put the clocks back to their place, grabbed my old rod, and ran outside like that little boy.
I can't believe I didn't notice how bright today is. The sky looks breath-taking.

I finally understand.
It's time for a fresh start.