Foxheart

Part Two: Chapter Nineteen

'This way.' Fox grumbled as he went back down the road the truck had brought them.

Esme at first followed before turning back to grab Absolon's tiny foot after he sleepily stayed put, and hurried after Fox. She stuck to the pavement as it curved downwards, pulling Absolon like a balloon after her. Fox was sure-footed, showing how familiar he was with Clockton. He guided Esme down narrow curving streets, barely wide enough to allow two cars through which often had them vying for priority. Each house was cramped and small, with their windows flung open, letting out the sounds of radios, chatter and warmth, and their garden lawns varying in levels of tidiness. Places that had youngsters were obvious by the children tearing about the streets and the toys strewn in the lawn and the wealthy changed in every street with the houses appearing in various states of repair.

Esme gazed about her, often having to run up to Fox as he tore on ahead and not really paying much attention to her. After living within the sprawling city of Lakeside, with its massive districts, apartment and office buildings and huge shopping malls, Clockton was a welcome change of pace. The people were slow, unhurried in their business and the streets roared rarely with a car trundling by. Despite her situation, Esme was beginning to enjoy her journey outside Lakeside. It was only when she peered up a road they passed and saw the flash of white, she paled and became frightened again. Of course Hunters would be here. Clockton wasn't that far out from Lakeside.

Fox suddenly stopped at the top of a sloping hill, causing her to nearly bump into him. At first she felt anxious that a Hunter was there but he was relaxed, staring up at sign.

'What is it?' She asked and peered up at what grabbed his attention.

It was a rickety old shop with its black iron sign swinging sadly. The grubby windows were filled with clocks of various types; watches, grandfathers, pendulums and wind-up. Oddly, despite the shabby appearance of the shop itself, the clocks were immaculate. They shone beautifully, painted , varnished and cleaned to perfection.

'In.' Fox said sharply as he pointed at the old door. 'And you stay in. I'll go out later to see how many Hunters are about. So far, I've seen three.'

Esme frowned but nodded her head obediently. 'I'll stay in.'

Fox grunted and pushed open the door, rattling the bell. Esme had to dart forward to grab the door when he failed to hold it open. She didn't know why she expected he did. Fox so far hadn't shown any basic manners.

Inside was dark and very loud. Clocks were on every shelf and wall and most were alive, ticking away their cogs, swinging their pendulums and blaring out their bells or cuckoos. It made Esme's hands flutter to her eyes. Absolon seemed to like it. It woke him up and he began to sway with a large wooden grandfather clock's pendulum.

Fox waved at her to follow as he made his way through the noisy cluttered shop. He made his way passed the counter and opened the door on the other side. Instantly Esme paused. Why was he going round the back? She then remembered he was a thief. Was he stealing?

Esme stared at him unhappily, glaring softly, while Fox grew impatient.

'Hurry up.' He hissed.

She grabbed Absolon from his merry dance and sullenly went forward. Once again, barely caught the door as he let it close shut on her. It irritated her. She slipped into the back room and, while she didn't feel comfortable invading someone's private space, she did like that it was much quieter and cooler in here.

Absolon whistled in Esme's arms as she hovered by the closed door. She glanced about the room, noting the tools and machinery and half built clocks. It was like a tiny factory.