The Watchers of Time

Chapter One

I had been forced into helping my mother clean out my late grandmother’s attic after she died, even though there were countless other things I would rather be doing on this beautiful Saturday morning.  I longingly looked out the window as cars drove past the old home, teenagers like myself headed to the beach or the mall while I was stuck here going through dusty boxes of old junk with my mom.  I walked over to grab another box now, practically dragging it over to the window where I would go through the belongings, hoping against hope that the meager amount of sunlight shining through would at least give me a small tan. 

           I opened the flaps of the box and coughed dramatically as a cloud of dust erupted from its depths.  I started to rummage through the possessions in the cardboard, mostly throwing everything into the garbage pile, as my grandmother was quite the packrat.  When I threw a pile of old newspapers on the ground particularly hard, I earned a glare from my mother. 

            “Dahlia!” She said sternly, “Don’t just be throwing things around like that!  And don’t be so disgruntled, you can miss one day with your friends to clean out your grandmother’s possessions.  Is that to much to ask?  For all the years of love and encouragement, and-”

            “OKAY mom stop with the guild trip, I get it!” I yelled cracking a smile at her dramatic speech. 

            “Good!  Now I’m going downstairs to get more boxes, go through those over there next!” She said smiling. 

            “Ughhhhh.” I replied as she walked passed me and swatted my head.  The truth was that we were never close with my grandmother, after my grandfather died she decided that apparently she didn’t want anything more to do with us.  My dad was devastated having grown up close to her, but that was when I was about five so I didn’t really know anything different.  I stood up, pain shooting through my knees from squatting so long, and walked stiffly to the boxes my mom had told me about.  I crouched by a particularly small box, thinking that it would be more gratifying to unpack an entire small box than take forever with a large one. 

            I dug through some useless bookends and yet more newspapers, when I came across a small black box.  It was no bigger than a bread box (which having not seen one previous to the watches, had no idea what that was yet) and it was sleek and shiny.  I remember sliding my hand over the glossy finish and the thin line where the lid of the box opens.  I remember tracing the small inscription on the front panel, “Time is the longest distance between two places”.  What an odd phrase to put on a box, I thought.  And it did seem odd, until I discovered what was inside.  I opened the sleek top of the hinged box, half expecting it to be locked.  My grandmother was inclined to lock things away in her house for safe keeping and then lose the keys.  But alas, to my surprise the box opened smoothly to a satin lined compartment.  Filling that compartment was a relatively dusty accumulation of pocket watches.  Some were small and shiny, some were old and caked in grime.  Some were brass and some were silver.  Some had scrolling designs of flowers and others were decorated with simple lines and angles. 

          I picked one up at random.  It had a smooth copper front and was adorned with tiny trees on the back side.  I looked at it suspiciously and wondered what on earth my grandmother would have been doing with so many pocket watches.  Then again, what would she be doing with approximately twenty thousand and seventy-two old rotting news papers, some from before she was born?        

            There was a little opening on the front lid to display the inside of the pocket watch, showing the hands that stopped at precisely 2:07.  I wondered about what was happening when this watch stopped ticking, why it wasn’t re-wound and set to the appropriate time, but instead allowed to die out at exactly 2:07.  I looked over my shoulder toward the door to make sure my mother wasn’t coming and then I did it.  I clicked the button on the top of the watch to open the face and reveal the full display of numbers and hands.  But as I hit that button I felt the air start to shift.  Before I knew what was happening I felt as though my world was falling down around me.  I wasn’t falling with it exactly, it was like I was still sitting cross-legged in my grandmothers attic, but the scenery around me was melting into the ground, new sights and colors pushing in from the top like a reel and settling in around me.