The Clockmaker's Rest

Everyone needs a break when life passes so quickly. Sometimes change is overwhelming.

“You need to get back to work, sir,” said the officer as he sat down on the bench next to the Clockmaker. The park is empty this morning. No one is here until much later in the day, at their allotted time. Everyone has their allotted time, so that there is no need to worry what to do with it. Life becomes complicated when you have far too much on your hands.

“I know I do, son,” said the Clockmaker.

“I am not your son, sir. I am a peacekeeping officer.”

“I am aware.”

“City Hall says they need you to come back right now.”

“I know. They always need me,” said the Clockmaker. He looks down at his weathered hands. They’re torn apart by age, by time. There are so many years on him.

“I’ve got a lot of work to do,” said the Clockmaker.

“Yes, sir. We can’t leave them waiting,” said the officer.

“I can. They cannot do anything without me.”

“Nobody knows, sir. Nobody knows.”

“Yes. The clocks are off. No one knows what to do.”

“No one knows the time.”

“That’s what I said.”

The Clockmaker sighs as he brings out his pocket watch. He had spent the morning feeding the ducks, for once not stuck on his watches. When he looks at it now he sees all of them. The internal mechanisms, the cogs, the gears, all working in perfect harmony. Yes, he knew the time. He was the one expected to keep up with it. No one else, though.

“I didn’t think I’d be gone so long. Not long enough to be missed, anyway,” said the Clockmaker.

“Sir, you’ve been missing four days,” said the officer.

“Four days?” The Clockmaker put his watch away and rubbed his eyes, smoothing out the wrinkles surrounding them. So much had already been lost. And more would come. “Time flies when you don’t know it’s passing.”

“They said I had to get you back right away. If you would just come with me…” said the officer.

“I’m not going anywhere, son.”

“But if you don’t… Nothing will get fixed. We can’t do it ourselves.”

“No, you can’t do anything by yourselves.”

“Sir, everyone is…”

“I know. Nobody knows what time it is.”

He gets up off the bench, and walks over to the pond. It is still. A cool morning brought a mist that rose from the surface. The ducks lazily collect the bread that the Clockmaker has thrown to them. They are unaware of his existence. His reflection looks back at him clearly. The lines, the age, they are all over his face.

“Do you know how much time we lose?” said the Clockmaker.

“We can’t lose any now, sir. The clock’s not running.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not passing. No, it’s ticking by right now. Every second, every hour, every day. We spin, and we go around that sun. And it changes. Everything. No matter what we do.”

“We’re not supposed to do anything about it. We abide by our time.”

“Yes, we do. Because it will pass either way. And we will change. You will change, I will change. It is inevitable.”

“Yes, sir. We want change.”

“We change whether we want to or not. And life will pass us by. Here we are, making little machines to watch the time pass, until it is all over.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know you don’t, son. It is okay. That is my job.”

“Yes, sir. We all have jobs.”

“Yes, and how lucky we are for that.” The Clockmaker walks once again across the park, followed by the officer. The day is starting in full now. The mist clears, and the sun rises above the horizon of the city. Another day has begun in earnest.

“My job is all I have. That is all that is left of me. You take it, and what is there? No longer am I a son, no more a student, long since have I been a friend, and no, not a husband either. I am not even a father anymore, for my children have no need of me. Except, of course, to keep their world running.”

“And it is not.”

“No, it is not.”

Outside the gates, there are accidents all over the streets. People have crashed into each other, stores have been ransacked, fights and fires break out all over downtown. No one had to go to work this morning. No one could. The Clock Tower did not ring, did not send anyone on their way.

“It takes so little to rebel. Order is such a cruel illusion.”

The Clockmaker looks once again at his pocket watch as he clicks it open. He smashes it against the fence surrounding the park, and leaves it lying there.

“Come on, son. I have to go back to work. I just needed a moment’s rest,” said the Clockmaker.