The Clock | Teen Ink

The Clock

December 5, 2012
By Glaydus BRONZE, Reno, Nevada
Glaydus BRONZE, Reno, Nevada
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"I'm nobody! Who are you?/Are you nobody, too?" -Emily Dickinson


Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Chikao listened to the comforting sounds of the clock knowing that finally, finally, the day was over. He turned one last time to look over his shoulder before turning to leave the building. He quickly gathered his cloak tightly around him and walked away from the building with quick, rapid steps, trying not to show how eager he was to leave, barely restraining himself from breaking into an all-out run.

As soon as he turned the corner, he stopped and breathed a sigh of relief. It was over, at least for now. He had survived for another day; he was one step closer to his goal than he had been yesterday. He was safe, at least until tomorrow came and he would be forced to endure the agony all over again. But for now…

Now that he was out of sight of the building, he slowed down considerably, walking down the dark, lamp-lit street at ease. Every now and then he lifted his arm to check his watch in order to make sure that it was still functioning. 12:03:26, 12:05:02, 12:06:54. Good, it was still working.

The watch was Chikao’s entire life. It had been a last gift from his father before the man had disappeared nearly eleven years ago. He kept it on him always, no matter where he was, no matter how hard others pressured him to take it off. He lived his life by the watch, and by further extent, by Time, planning his entire schedule out down to the second. He never deviated from that schedule; in the back of his mind, he knew that it was important to follow it as if, for some reason he couldn’t recognize, his life was inexorably tied to that little watch. He didn’t understand, but he knew that it was important.

12:09:32, 12:09:54, it was almost Time. He was supposed to be home by 12:15:46, five minutes and fifty-two seconds for now. He was making good time. Soon he would be back home where he could hopefully catch a few hours of sleep before he would be forced to awaken again. But still, he would have those few hours where everything would be silent and he would be blissfully unaware of the world around him.

At 12:13:14, he turned the corner to the block his apartment was on. Perfect. He had two minutes and thirty-two seconds to walk down to the end of the street and step inside the building. His timing was flawless, like it had always been ever since he had received his watch. He walked down the road confidently, letting his cloak billow about him, enjoying the cool night breeze.

Suddenly, Chikao felt a prickle down his back, telling him that something was wrong. Instinctively he ducked, and just in Time, for at that very moment, a rope had lashed out where he had been only moments ago, probably sent to tangle him up. Completely startled, he took off down the street, running in an erratic zigzag pattern. He didn’t look back, but the rope whistled past him several more times so he knew that he was still being pursed. One time, it hit the top of his arm, but was not centered enough to capture him. He winced at the pain, now knowing exactly how it felt to be whipped. He wrapped his cloak as best as he could around his bleeding arm, and continued down the street.

He was coming up on his apartment fast. Part of his wanted to fling the door open and rush inside, knowing that there, he would be safe from whatever psychotic person that was chasing him. But he knew that he couldn’t. It was only 12:13:53 and he couldn’t enter until 12:15:46 without there being terrible consequences. He did not know what those were, but he knew that if he even deviated slightly from his prearranged schedule, something terrible would happen to his watch and by default, him.

His walk home hadn’t been the same as usual, of course, with the ropes being lashed out at him and everything. But the walks home always varied to a slight extent, and besides, he had a feeling that this nighttime pursue had been planned by the watch. How else would he had known to duck? Perhaps he had been given some leniency in the walk back, but he knew that if he did not enter the building at exactly 12:15:46, there would be terrible repercussions. The entering of the building was one of the few things that had to be done at the exact same time every day. There was only one choice left then.

Drawing up all his courage, Chikao screeched to a halt in front of his door and spun around to face his pursuer. As he expected, the ropes lashed out and bound themselves firmly around him. Soon he would find out exactly who it was that was chasing him as well as why they were. Perhaps if he explained well enough he or she would understand and would let him enter the building at the proper time. They could talk later, as long as he had entered the building at 12:15:46. He was sure that the watch would allow the talk as long as he abided by the basic Time guidelines. As long as he woke, left, went to work, left work, and came home as the exact same time every day, he was given a few minutes leniency every day. It was something at least.

Chikao anxiously tried to lift his hand to check his watch, trying to calculate how much time he would have in order to convince his captor to listen to him. Then he realized he couldn’t, his hands were bound firmly to his sides so he could not budge them an inch. He groaned inwardly. He hated not knowing what time it was. He hated not knowing where he was supposed to be or what he was supposed to be doing. He needed his watch, to know exactly what time it was but now that was denied to him. Mentally, he cursed the person who had captured him. How inconsiderate of them to tie him up without even access to his watch, the most important thing to him. Quickly, he pushed down those jarring feelings of hatred. He could not lose his temper. He needed to befriend this person, for their help was needed in order for him to reach his rapidly approaching deadline. He could live without the watch for a few seconds if it would help him get through the door on time.

Nervous with apprehension, Chikao watched a figure emerge from the shadows. It was a man, quite tall, six and a half feet at least. Beyond that, Chikao couldn’t make anything else out until the man knelt down to look at him and throwing his face in the lamp-light.

“You!” gasped Chikao in horror, “You!”

“Yes, me,” said the man with a wry smile on his lips, “I’m glad that you noticed.”

“But you…how did you…I thought you couldn’t…I thought you weren’t allowed to,” he stuttered. A hundred ideas popped up in his head, but none of them could work out why his boss from work was right here right now in front of his home and had tied him up in ropes.

“You thought I couldn’t make it here?” the man asked in a dry voice, “I assure you I am quite capable of it. After all, your lovely home is only a few blocks away from there. Anybody could walk that short distance.”

“But you told me on the first day that your life was linked to the factory! You said that you were physically unable to set foot outside the premises!” The man waved the protests off.

“Merely lies I told to lull people into a false sense of security. Cleary a lie. Why else would you be lying at my feet now, completely helpless?”

“I’m not helpless,” Chikao retorted angrily. He hated it whenever someone called him helpless for that was exactly how he had been the night his mother and older sister had died. He had been completely powerless, and had to watch them dragged into the bowels of a huge machine, meeting a painful and gruesome death. He had stood there, watching the whole thing unfold, unable to step forward to their aid without getting sucked in himself. It was from that day on that he had really started letting his watch control his life. It was something to hold onto, something to live by, something that gave him the will to live and to resist the ever so tantalizing possibility of taking his own life. It was the only reason he was still alive. He was helpless and he hated every moment of it.

“Well, anyways,” said the man, dusting off his sleeves, “There is a matter of business to attend to. I believe you have something of mine.” He leaned over towards Chikao who instinctively shrunk back.

“I don’t have anything of yours,” he said fiercely, “I am no thief.”

“No, you’re not,” the man agreed, “But the item in question was not stolen, but rather lent and I’m afraid that the borrowing period has now expired.” Gingerly, he removed Chikao’s right arm from the bindings although not enough for him to move. He undid the strap to the boy’s watch with ease and put it on his own wrist, standing up in the process. The boy shuddered violently as his most prized possession was removed for the first time since he had received it.

“That’s mine,” he snarled viciously, wanting nothing more than to tear the man to pieces for this transgression, “Give it back. You have no right to touch it, let alone take it.”

“Oh?” asked the man skeptically, raising an eyebrow, “And why ever not?”

“It’s mine!”

“But how did it come to be yours?”

“That’s none of your business!”

“But it is. If you cannot prove through the origin of the object that it is truly yours, then I, as your boss, can file the claim of your thievery and it would become mine by default.”

“I already told you. I. am. not. a. thief.”

“Tell it to the judge. Or better yet, tell me so it doesn’t have to go that far.”

“All right,” growled Chikao reluctantly, “It was a gift from my father. He gave it to me shortly before he left and I would appreciate having it back since it is all I have of him.”

“Fascinating,” said the man dryly, “Such a touching story, I’m sure.” Chikao waited for a moment for his boss to hand him his watch back, but the man did not move.

“Well,” the boy demanded finally, “I told you where I got it. Now give it back.” His boss just shook his head.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he said shaking his head, “At least not yet. Based on your story, the watch is mine anyways.”

“Of course it’s not. Stop making excuses and give it back!” The man just shook his head sadly.

“After all this time working in the factory, do you still not know who I am?”

“I know who you are,” hissed Chikao angrily, “You are a thief, the evil boss taking advantage of his employees. You don’t pay me as much as the law requires and now you’ve stolen my watch.”

“You know that’s not what I mean. Who I am beyond your recent experiences?”

“I am no philosopher,” scoffed Chikao, “I work day and night just to meet my ends. I am happy that way and you rich upper class should just let me be.”

“Rich upper class?” the man mused, “That is what you think of me? And you think yourself happy? What a flawed perception of the world. I assure you that both your claims are incorrect.” The man knelt down in front of the boy again, looking him over. “Such lies for one so young. The innocence has already fled I see.” Chikao glared at the man as hard as he could, trying to express his hatred in his expression as no words ever would be able to do. Then he caught sight of something and gasped, horror filling his entire being.

“No,” he whispered completely appalled, “It cannot be. “ A small smile touched the man’s lips.

“So you understand now, finally, although I do have to say that it took you a ridiculous amount of time. Yes Chikao, you are right, I am your father.”

“But you’re, you’re so young,” the boy finally managed to stammer. He immediately felt stupid. Out of all the things he could have said at the moment, why he had chosen to say that? He could have laughed, he could have ridiculed the statement, or he could have threatened to sue the man. Why had he called him young? The man seemed to sense the oddity too for he grimaced at the question.

“Young? I assure you I am not young. You weren’t born until I was a full thirty-three years old. In that sense I am not young at all.”

“But you look…”

“About thirty-seven when I should now be much older? Care to guess why?” Thoughts went spinning throughout the boy’s head. The man could almost see the gears whirling, until finally everything fell into place.

“You were thirty-seven when you left and you still are,” the boy said thoughtfully, “That was the reason that you left us. You left us so that you could become immortal. That is why you haven’t aged a day.” The man raised his eyebrows, impressed at his son’s power of perception. But he still felt the need to correct him.

“You’re incorrect in your statement that I haven’t aged a day. I didn’t become immortal the moment I left, it took some time. In fact, I am now five days older than I was then.” Chikao rolled his eyes.

“Same difference,” he muttered, “You still left us.” The man ignored him and continued.

“Since you’ve managed to figure that out, I trust you know why I’m here?” To his annoyance, the boy shook his head. “Come on, boy, think. I, your father, gone for the past eleven years, has returned and told you that I have become immortal. What could I possibly want from you?” He was rewarded with a blank stare. “No idea?” he asked. No response. Chikao’s father sighed. “I had hoped that you might have worked it out. But no matter, you’ll see soon enough.” He took several steps towards the boy. Perhaps it was the menace in the step or perhaps it was the way that he held the watch at an angle in the lamplight, but just at that moment, everything clicked into place. Chikao’s face went pale.

“No,” he said, attempting to scuffle backwards. It didn’t work too well since he was still bound by ropes. The man continued coming closer. Finally fear got the better of the boy and he found his voice. “No,” he shrieked, “You can’t. I won’t let you.” The man knelt down in front of him and quietly studied his face. He looked confused.

“It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” he said softly, “You were supposed to be happy, ecstatic. We were finally going to be together again, father and son. I just had to wait until you were old enough. Aren’t you happy?” The boy’s expression answered his question. His face was filled with pure terror. Finally he responded, but ignored the man’s question.

“Wh…why? Why the watch?” was all that he managed to get out. The man looked down at the watch still dangling in his left hand in confusion.

“The watch? It was merely a farewell gift. I knew that you needed something to remember me by, something to hold onto if anything ever happened. You needed something to keep you going if life ever became rough.”

“S…so there was ne..never anything special about it?”

“It depends on how you look at it,” he said, giving the traditional noncommittal answer.

“Well, then I can get on with my life then? Without the watch to hold me back?”

“Perhaps, but the watch will be every bit as much a part of your life as before.” The man stepped forward.

“What are you doing?” Chikao asked suspiciously. His father made no answer, but clasped the watch once more upon the boy’s wrist. He began to chant softly, so quietly that the boy couldn’t make out the words. But the rhythm of the chant was familiar. A little too familiar.

“No,” he whispered quietly, then louder, “I told you I didn’t want to. I won’t go through with it.” His father ignored him however, continuing with his chanting. Chikao began to resist in earnest. He attempted to climb to his feet, he tried biting and kicking the man, all was futile. After several minutes of this, the chanting stopped. The boy began to feel it with increasing certainty, the touch of eternal life within him. Horrified, terrified, and absolutely filled with hatred towards the man standing before him with a sadistic smile upon his face, Chikao screamed his frustrations into the night and lunged at the one that caused all his miseries.


The author's comments:
I was inspired to write this piece when I saw picture of a clock with a hand stopping it. Perhaps the terrors of immortality is a common theme, but I was led to wonder, exactly what power does time hold over us all?

Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.