The Gift of a Clock, by Kelsey S.

He rubbed his glasses against his dusted apron and slowly put them back on, the rims were large, somewhat bent to where the nose arch was a little crooked to the left. He sat with one elbow on the table, his hand stroking his curvy gray mustache while he shot a pondering stare at a grandfather clock, lying on the work table in front of him. Even though the stars were out that night he started and kept working through the dimness of candle light. Around him were hundreds of clocks, small clocks, coo-coo clocks, foreign clocks, and grandfather clocks. He always knew the time and in his workshop harmonious dings and chimes were the usual tune.

Eventually he stopped pondering the grandfather clock and dissected it. First he tugged at the jammed door until finally he found the strength to pry it open. Clouds of dust shot from within, covering his wrinkled red cheeks and large nose. He quickly swiped away the dust from his glasses and set to work on all the stray gizmos and gadgets, instantly injecting life back into the clock. He pried, painted, molded, sawed, screwed, and perfected the old grandfather clock. Like an elf at the North Pole he worked diligently all through the night until he drifted to sleep on his work stool resting his head in his arms, covered with filthy dust and beautiful dreams of a grandfather clock.

“Hello? Mr. Tuner?” His head sprung up from inside his folded arms and quickly his hands went to work on his glasses. His eyes frantically searched his workshop. “Hello? Mr. Turner, are you alright?” He stepped down from his work stool and slowly started towards the front door still yawning from his deep sleep. He had plump rosy cheeks and a belly to match while his once full head of hair was left with a large bald circle on top and curly fine whiteness surrounding it. His ears were large and he had a curly mustache that hung above his always giddy smile.

“Hello my boy, you’ve come for your clock right?” He smile and patted him on the back. The much younger man studied the room with an odd look of amusement on his face and a crooked smile, obviously astounded by the amount of clocks the old man had collected. He listened, in great amazement, to all the clocks harmoniously sing to the morning.

“Um, yes, I’m here to pick up a large grandfather clock. I dropped it by here about, say two days ago?” The boy licked his lips in deep thought while he looked up to the ceiling; there was a large hole with several birds’ nests and a ray of sunshine. He wondered why the old man hadn’t fixed the gapped hole or shooed the birds out, instead he just placed a pail below it.

“Yes sonny, you’re correct. I’ll be right back with your clock, you stay put,” he said as he pushed his glasses back up his nose. He pointed to where the boy was standing still stained with his giddy smile; he was obviously excited about his masterpiece. The happy old man waddled out from behind the register, his back tilted from the massive stomach he carried.

A large crash came a few seconds after he had left and then came several coo-coos and chimes of different tones from an explosion of dust and busted clock parts. “Mr. Turner, do you need some help?” The boy called back to him as he watched a cloud of dust rise from the back room, worried about his clock.

“No, no sonny, stay put and watch my clocks, he called from the back room. After several grunts and muttered curses the elderly man came back rolling the grandfather clock in without a scratch to spare. The clock glowed with effulgence. The hand painted scenery, newly molded time hands, and even a new ticker were Mr. Turner’s outstanding show of his hard work and diligence.

“Well, here you go sonny. Take care of ‘er I worked too hard for you to ruin ‘er so be watchful when you leave.” He smiled and chuckled to himself as he patted his belly which was shaking with glee.

The young boy walked over to him and even though he was dusty and dirty he hugged the old man and said, “Thanks dad.”

Kelsey S’s favorite color is orange. She loves writing about any crazy idea that strikes her. Her favorite hobby is dancing to techno with her friends.