Sometimes I fantasized that I wasn't the only one who could see the clocks. Like everyone was keeping the same secret from each other. For a second or two I could convince myself of it, but then I thought of all the hate in the world, and I didn't have the ability to believe that people would say and do such awful things if they could truly understand the consequences of their actions. If they could understand that yes, their words did affect people by seeing their clocks, there was no way they'd actually continue their behavior. Or at least I hoped not. For me it was the "golden rule" taken to an extreme. Kind acts can really save your life, and someone else's.
"Eva!" Clay's voice snapped me back to reality, right before I was about to collide with a mailbox. I veered to the left, nearly falling off my bike but righting myself just in time. Clay stopped pedaling and fell back to he was parallel to me. "You good?"
"Just dandy," I said, avoiding eye contact.
Clay coughed, but it I heard the word "klutz".
"What'd you say?" I asked.
"Nothing," he said, repeating the act, clearly articulating the word through his coughing.
"Wowww," I rolled my eyes, speeding up so that I was in front of him.
"I'm joking!" Clay called after me. I could hear the gears on his bike clicking furiously as he caught up to me. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him smirking as he leaned in closer to his handlebars, his legs pumping.
"Aerodynamics?" I asked, leaning forward as well.
"You know it," he said. Now I knew we were racing.
We flew through the rest of our neighborhood and down the local streets, the chains on our bikes circling so fast I thought the friction between the gears would melt them. My heart raced as I took a turn sharply to gain leverage, leaning nearly horizontally as I rounded the corner but soaring when I surpassed Clay in my risky maneuver.
"Cheater!" Clay protested, shifting up a few levels in gears and grunting as he worked harder to push the pedals. Eventually he caught up, and it was a neck to neck race. I felt myself weakening, my calves begging for me to quit. Clay, whose shiny face indicated that he had been working harder than he let on, was also panting.
With a final shot of energy I pedaled harder than I ever had, pulling far enough in front of Clay that I declared myself a winner, so I then pulled over to the sidewalk and stopped, sliding off of my bike and laying down on the sizzling summer concrete, not really noticing the looks I was getting from people enjoying an afternoon stroll.
Clay pulled over next to me, coming to a stop and leaning across his handlebars, inhaling and exhaling deeply. Red-faced and panting he turned to me, and as we made eye contact we began to laugh. The kind of laughter you only really get when its two in the morning and your best friend brings up something stupid you did in the sixth grade, but somehow even better. The kind that you're sure when it's over you'll have a six pack, only to find out you obviously don't and then you start laughing all over again-- but somehow even better. The kind where you're sure you really like the person-- but somehow even better.
After we'd settle down I sat up, asking where we were actually even headed.
"Oh, we passed our destination like a half mile ago," Clay said. I began to protest before he interrupted. "I'm joking! We can walk from here, c'mon," he jumped off his bike and laid it neatly against a nearby post, doing the same with mine and then motioning for me to follow him.
As we walked to wherever we were going, I looked around at everyone's clocks in comparison to Clay's. Everyone was ticking down normally, some even slower than normal. There was a man's ticking down particularly slowly as he enjoyed a late lunch with his wife, and another little girl's clock slowing as she enjoyed the first few licks of a popsicle, her mother's time slowing as she handed the girl her treat and they shared a smile. Clay's had (thankfully) slowed a bit. I assumed the thrill of a bike race was all he needed to be happy once more.
Content with the world, I was even happier when Clay showed me to our destination-- my favorite ice cream shop in the entire world. It had been nameless as long as I could remember, its only advertisement being a large sign that read "ICE CREAM" across the storefront. It has been simply dubbed "the summer shop" by locals for its assortment of frozen treats and ice cold beverages.
"How'd you even find out about this place?" I asked as he pulled open the door, gesturing for me to go inside. The AC blasted me refreshingly and I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Tom Sawyer, remember?" Clay strolled up to the counter and greeted the cashier with a familiar smile and small talk of the weather before ordering two cones. The always efficient summer shop had our desserts ready in an instant and Clay gave the cashier, someone who I vaguely remember from biology class the year before, four quarters. Did I fail to mention that the summer shop also had unbeatable prices? He then put a dollar bill in the tip jar and lead me outside, where we sat on a bench. I wasn't sure how he knew that my favorite summer activity-- other than hanging at the Tree, of course --was vanilla cones and people watching at the summer shop, but I wasn't about to ruin it by asking.
"How's your brother?" Clay asked randomly.
Taken aback, I struggled to string my words together in coherent sentences. "Well, he, uh-- he and Jane-- the girl --were reading, and they... house hunting."
"Wow, sounds complicated," Clay joked, nudging me.
I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath before attempting the sentence again. "He and Jane, his girlfriend, have been doing some reading and research about parenting and they're going apartment shopping today."
"That's good," Clay said, leaning back and stretching his arm span over the back of the bench, lightly resting his hand on my shoulder. I could feel the tenseness in his muscles, but saw him trying to keep his cool in his face.
We just sat in each other's company for a while, licking our ice cream till our tongues were about to freeze off-- the summer shop had really, really large cones. Despite the size of them, the cones always had the perfect amount of ice cream that left you feeling cool and refreshed and not sick with a brain freeze.
"How'd you find this place for real?" I asked.
Clay laughed and tightened his hand around my shoulder. "I really have done some exploring since we got here. In addition to finding the Tree, I spend a lot of time here downtown. Mrs. Bell is always asking for someone to watch her laundry at the laundromat while she goes grocery shopping, and Mr. Cooper needs help every other Wednesday reaching the top shelf at the hardware store to buy more seeds for his garden. Oh, and the little Carter twins love when I join them to turn rope for double dutch by the town square fountain."
Clay continued to rattle off all the things he did in town as if he'd lived here his entire life. I in fact had lived here my whole life, yet I didn't know about Mrs. Murphy's Tuesday bingo games in the town center, or the noon lunch that the Bailey family hosted every Sunday, cooking for anyone who showed up. Clay was truly quite the adventurer.
After we'd finished our cones and conversation, we hopped back on our bikes and cycled around town for a bit, ending up back at the tree.
"You did not win that third lap!" I punched Clay in the shoulder as we dismounted.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, but you and I both know that I am NASCAR level at neighborhood block cycling," Clay bent down, swiping a stick from the ground and holding it up to his face like a reporter's mic. "You know man, you just get the rush in your veins and-- ugh! there's nothing like it."
I snatched his "microphone" away. "And that is the latest loser's speech from our track, and it's back to you, Bill" I said, dropping the stick to the ground.
Clay glared at me, parting the Tree's vines and stepping through. I laughed and tried to do the same but he held them shut from the inside.
"We're closed, try again when you're a better friend," Clay said through the leaves.
I rolled my eyes and ran around to the other side of the Tree, trying to go through that way but Clay beat me to it, clamping the leaves shut. "No entry for victory fabricators," he said. What he didn't realize that by pulling all the leaves together he left a perfect opening right next to him. I stepped through and smiled, crossing my arms and tapping him on the shoulder. Genuinely surprised, he jumped back.
"Did you really not realize?" I asked.
"No, I just wanted to get you in here so I could do this," Clay said, pulling me in and kissing me, just as softly as he did the night before.
"You still lost that lap," I whispered right into his smile, which quickly turned.
"Okay you can go now," Clay pushed me away, sarcastically sulking as he walked towards the trunk and slid down, crossing his arms over his chest.
"That's fine," I shrugged, stepping around Clay to the steps of my treehouse, grabbing a book and then coming back down. I walked towards my chaise and flopped down dramatically, looking Clay in the eye as I opened my book and settled in to read. We stared back at each other from opposite points of the Tree, struggling not to smile.
I took the opportunity to watch his clock for a while. It wasn't counting down quite as quickly as the night before anymore, but still quick enough to make me sweat.
He finally caved, cracking a smile and filling the Tree with the sweet sound of his laughter.
We returned to our general Tree activities. Clay continued to work on his bike, and finally I had to ask him why he was so infatuated with it. I knew he was smart. Academic decathlon in his old school; reigning champ. What, I can do a little research! I just knew he could be doing so much more.
"Books can only take you so far, Eva," he said, never taking his eyes off of polishing his chain. "I could be studying, but where would that get me, you know? You only have so much time on this earth, I'd like to spend it actually going somewhere."
"Tell me about it," I said, rolling my eyes in frustration at his clock. Why is it going so fast? The little voice inside my head kept running through the possibilities. Maybe it isn't his dad who's sick? Maybe he'll end up actually crashing into someone walking their dog? Maybe it's me?
I shook my head.
"YOLO, you know?" I didn't realize Clay had still been talking that entire time.
"Yeah, YOLO and all that," I forced a chuckle.
Bored of my book and tired of my thoughts I made plans with Clay that night to both return to the Tree later and go on more of an adventure. The Perfect Summer was waiting for us. We had a deal after all.