The Clock People

by Mark Roland Langdale

  ‘He won’t hear a thing, he’s away with the fairies. That and to him I imagine our voices are but a whisper,’ Tippy laughed doing a double somersault in mid-air then landing on her feet. ‘Well, you said you craved an adventure. Well now, thanks to me, it looks like you have one. We both have one,’ Tippy beamed. ‘Come on, time to go. We’d better go back or we’ll lose our apprenticeships, although I think our apprenticeship of life is better served outside the clock than inside.’

  ‘I’d like to move but I can’t, I can’t move, my feet are stuck fast I’m afraid!’ Wilbur replied, pulling a face as he tried to wriggle his feet this way and that without success.

  ‘Fear can do that to a person,’ grunted Tippy through gritted teeth as she tried manfully to budge Wilbur’s feet with her bare hands.

  ‘Fear? Nothing, nothing of the sort, it’s just this cushion is hard to walk upon,’ Wilbur grimaced lying through his clenched teeth.

  Then the sleeping giant opened his mouth wide and his eyelashes flicked as if half in and half out of a dream. Wilbur did not think he was half in and half out of a dream as he knew full well he was half in and half out of a waking nightmare!

  ‘The giant’s awake!’ exclaimed Tippy backing away.

  ‘We’re done for, looks like this adventure is a short one!’ Wilbur muttered closing his eyes and fearing the worst thing he could possibly ever imagine, which was lying in his deathbed as a sheet was pulled over his face. A blast of hot air hit Wilbur, knocking him backwards, freeing his feet and causing him to tumble across the handkerchief like an acrobat.

  ‘No, look, look the giant’s going back to sleep,’ Tippy shouted, her heart pounding fit to burst as the man’s eyes closed along with his mouth.

  ‘My feet, they’re, they’re free but how on earth are we going to get back up there?!’ Wilbur exclaimed picking himself up and pointing to the fob watch which now seemed as distant as the very stars in the night sky.

  ‘We’ll climb the chain,’ Tippy shouted.

  ‘Yes we will!’ Wilbur shouted back.

  Wilbur tried to climb the chain as did Tippy but try as they might they could not.

  ‘It’s no use, the chain’s too slippery. It’s like a greasy pole,’ Wilbur grunted as he fell on his backside for the third time in as many minutes. The chain, to the two children, resembled a series of metal hoops chained together like in a conjuror’s magic act.

  ‘Hold on, apprentices, I’ll get a rope,’ Omnigus Prattles bellowed, almost bursting his lungs in the process. Then he disappeared back into the mechanism of the clock as fast as his old legs would carry him. Ten long minutes later he was back with another young man in tow.

  ‘Grab hold of this,’ the young man cried as he threw the rope over the side of the glass face of the fob watch. If the giant had awoken he would not have seen a rope, he would have seen what looked like a fine brown thread. The giant may not even have seen the little people unless he had fallen asleep with a pair of watchmaker’s scopical glasses on.

  ‘Tie it round your waist and we’ll pull you up one by one,’ Omnigus Prattles shouted as the rope dropped in between the two apprentices.

  ‘Ladies first as I got you into this mess,’ Wilbur said tying the rope around Tippy’s waist. Both apprentices were bright enough to know this was more than simply a rope, it was a lifeline, one they both imagined was attached to their timelines and if that lifeline snapped then their timelines would snap along with it.

  ‘My hero,’ Tippy replied blushing slightly.

  ‘Okay, pull her up!’ Wilbur shouted as the two men heaved Tippy Handle up as if it were a mountainside and not simply a watch.

  ‘Now your turn,’ shouted the younger man as once again he threw the rope down at Wilbur’s feet.

  Wilbur quickly tied the rope around his waist and, bit by bit, was winched up to join the others.

  ‘We can’t tell anyone else what happened tonight otherwise it will cause panic. That and the Elders will not look kindly upon your actions, which in turn will reflect badly on me,’ puffed Omnigus Prattles thinking of his own skin rather than that of his two young apprentices.

  ‘The Elders of the clock have Clock Watchers everywhere. They will know what happened tonight. It’s best you come clean and face the consequences. The Elders will know what to do for the best for all of the people of the clock,’ the young man said sounding wiser than his years or perhaps he was simply just another jobsworth looking to feather his own nest.

  ‘Are you sure the council don’t already know about the giants? They’ve probably been keeping this little secret for years,’ muttered Wilbur speaking out of turn thinking that Omnigus Prattles was already privy to this secret.

  ‘Big secret, you mean. Nothing little about this secret,’ Tippy snapped thinking they had been kept in the dark for far too long.

  ‘I stand corrected. Big secret,’ Wilbur replied mirroring the expression upon the face of his colleague.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Crankle, your support is appreciated. Whatever the case we must not utter a word to anybody else inside the clock until the Council of Elders have met, mum’s the word!’ old man Prattles replied looking pensive.

  ‘First class job, Apprentice Second Class,’ Apprentice Second Class Crankle replied, saluting Wilbur as if they were both clockwork soldiers as he examined the glass face of the watch. In truth it was better than the apprentice saying to the boy, ‘Second class job!’

  ‘Right, wind the clock face clockwise, apprentices, we don’t want the giant to suspect a thing,’ ordered Omnigus Prattles as the two young apprentices, with the help of William Crankle Apprentice Second Class, did as they were instructed. The three young apprentices wound the handle by hand and after much effort the glass moonstone dome of the watch slowly closed over their heads. Then they all squeezed through a tiny pinhole in the watch face and climbed down the ladder to the safety of the mechanism.

  ‘I hope we get overtime for tonight,’ Wilbur beamed, once again pushing his luck with the Master Watch Repairer, and not only with the master but in life, something the young and foolish seemed unable to stop. It was as if their body clocks had been overwound so much so everything needed to happen at breakneck speed. I haven’t the time to waste. I want everything yesterday! or so Omnigus Prattles was thinking, putting words into the mouths of his two young apprentices.

  ‘You’ll be lucky, you’re just lucky you’re still clocking on and haven’t just clocked off!’ the Master Watch Repairer snapped, quickly snuffing out the light in the young apprentices’ eyes.

  ‘I was going to use that line. Thanks for saving me for the second time tonight,’ Tippy said squeezing Wilbur’s hand tightly. It seemed both the apprentices knew how the other’s mind ticked. It was as if they had some kind of psychic connection, as if they were on the same page like the fictional characters in the storybook The Book Mites by Philbeus P. Pepperpot. Funnily enough Wilbur and Tippy were both reading the book and were on the same page. However, you mustn’t read too much into that little non-fact for that wasn’t serendipity, as at the time the two apprentices were in the clock library sitting side by side reading the book… tick tock, tick tock as one tick followed one tock…

  7

  A Horological Misadventure

  The next day reluctantly Omnigus Prattles went to the councillors to tell them what he and his two young apprentices had seen. He was half expecting the council not to believe a word of his far-fetched tale. If need be he could blame his over-enthusiastic apprentices who had far too much imagination for their and everybody else’s own good. However, when he told the council they did not seem in the least bit surprised by this tall tale. It seemed Wilbur Wigglesworth was right – the Elders were well aware of the giants in the world outside so why then were they keeping it secret?

  ‘We will have a meeting of the Elder Clock Watchers and decide what must be done about things,’ a wize
ned old man pronounced as he showed Omnigus Prattles out of his chambers, his chambers being the chamber of a fob watch. Omnigus was just glad the Elders had not presented him with a clock for services rendered, which in all walks of life meant only one thing: it was time to clock off whether you wanted to or not!

  Meetings of the Elder Clock Watchers could go on for days, sometimes even weeks. It was as if they thought they really did have all the time in the world. These meetings were not unlike the meetings held behind closed doors in the Catholic Church in Italy. In truth some of the Elders imagined they were related to the Clock God. The truth was the Clock Elders or ‘Watchers of the Clock’, as the apprentices called them in derogatory fashion, had little else to do but watch the hands of the clock circle the clock face. Holding meetings at least made the Elders feel like their time had some value, even though the apprentices and workers of the clock for the most part thought the Elders were wasting their time. ‘Still, as long as it’s “their” time they’re wasting and not “our” time that’s fine by me,’ Mr Drebbles would say like clockwork every morning over the breakfast table.

  Apprentice Wilbur Wigglesworth Second Class and Apprentice Tippy Handle Second Class were told unceremoniously to hold their council about the previous night’s shenanigans until the council had come to a decision. But the apprentices were young, impatient, with itchy feet that needed scratching. Two days later, restless and unable to sleep, with more questions in their young heads than they had answers to, and unbeknownst to the other, they sneaked out at night in the hope they would find some answers to those questions. Perhaps some of those questions were unanswerable. However, this thought did not enter the two young apprentices’ heads, not for one minute, not for one second in fact. Wilbur had gone to wake Tippy up but much to his surprise he found she was not in her bed. Wilbur was sure Tippy was bound to have a handle on whatever needed handling, what with her surname being Handle and all, and whatever needed handling she would do it with the utmost care and attention. Tippy had gone to wake up Wilbur but was not surprised in the slightest to find him out of bed and wriggling about. She wondered if the boy suffered from St Vitus’s dance. Wilbur Wigglesworth did not suffer from anything of the sort. What he suffered from was a bad case of wanderlust and an even badder case of wanting to grow up too much, like nine-foot-tall Alice! And we all know what happened to Alice: she outgrew her home in Wonderland. Imagine a giant living in a fob watch, it’s unimaginable! Tippy was sure Wilbur’s toes would have been wiggling so much he could not get them to keep still, so he would have had no other choice than to let his feet take him where his mind was already wandering. But where was Wilbur’s mind wandering? That was an easy question thought Tippy, as his mind, like hers, was wandering in the direction of the outside world. The outside world had so many wonders it was hard to imagine them all. Hard to imagine, I know, for two such imaginative minds as Tippy Handle and Wilbur Wigglesworth who appeared to have imaginations as vast as the universe itself.

  Tippy had hunted high and low for Wilbur but could not find him so she went back to bed. Mostly Tippy had hunted low as she knew Wilbur didn’t much care for heights unless those heights were encased within a dream. Falling dreams, however bad, were harmless unless you slept in a bunk bed or in a house that had been built on the edge of a cliff!

  Wilbur knew he was impatient like most boys and men, whereas girls and women normally took a more calm and calculated approach to things big and small – big things like life, small things like putting her shoes on the right way around. ‘No point going at it like a bull in a china shop, especially if that bull and china shop are housed within the mechanism of a clock!’ snapped Wilbur’s mother as she eyeballed her husband and her son over the supper table every evening as regular as clockwork. Of course these wise words went in one ear and out the other without touching the sides of both father and son.

  ‘Wake up, I’m going out for a breath of fresh air,’ Wilbur whispered as he shook Tippy from her slumbers then fell over his feet having found in his hurry he had put his shoes on the wrong feet!

  ‘You can’t sleep on the floor, Wilbur, and you certainly can’t sleep in my bed with me. I know they got married young in days of yore but not that young. My father would chase you all around the mechanism with a spanner. You don’t want to wind my father up, he’s an ogre when he gets angry!’ Tippy said as sweet as you like, trying to keep a straight face.

  ‘Yes, very amusing I must say, Miss Handle. I hear there is a position as the Clock Court Jester going. May I suggest you apply forthwith? Now, let’s go, time waits for no adventurer!’ Wilbur grunted, also keeping a straight face.

  ‘But I’ve already been out for some fresh air. I came looking for you but you weren’t in your bed. I looked high and low in the mechanism but couldn’t see hide nor hair of you,’ Tippy moaned as sleep deprivation got the very worst of her.

  ‘That was because I wasn’t in the mechanism, I was outside in the real world,’ Wilbur hissed, picking himself up off the floor, putting his shoes on the right feet and dragging Tippy out of her pit. As all this was taking place Wilbur was imagining a giant pendulum swishing over their heads about to take them off at the hinges. Ever since the minute hand had almost taken Wilbur’s head off he’d had a recurring waking nightmare. Still, at least he didn’t get the falling nightmare anymore, which was some compensation at least!

  ‘But we were told not to go outside. If we disobey the Elders we may lose our apprenticeships, after all, not many are lucky enough to even have stepped foot outside the mechanism,’ Tippy replied, trying to fob Wilbur off with some lame excuse as she desperately tried to rub the sleep back into her eyes. However, Wilbur was determined to wipe the sleep out of her eyes whether she liked it or not!

  ‘They’re all fast asleep as today it’s Sunday, a day of rest. We’ll be back in no time at all,’ Wilbur replied, pulling Tippy’s arm firmly so she felt compelled to join him in his little adventure.

  ‘You’re going to stop the mechanism, aren’t you, aren’t you?!’ Tippy snapped, pressing her colleague for an answer.

  ‘No, are you happy now?!’ Wilbur snapped back.

  ‘I’ll be happy if you mean it!’ Tippy replied forcefully.

  ‘Oh I mean it alright, cross my clockwork heart and hope it rusts.’ Wilbur smiled like the cat that got the cream. What Wilbur hadn’t told Tippy, because he knew she couldn’t handle it, was that he had paid two of his fellow apprentices to do the job instead.

  Wilbur and Tippy tiptoed out of the clock as quietly as mice. If while outside the mechanism the two apprentices were confronted by a giant mouse they would be anything but as quiet as a mouse!

  ‘Why do boys always act first then think with the little brains they have later after it has all gone horribly wrong?’ Tippy whimpered in a whisper.

  ‘I don’t know, why do boys always act first and think with the little brains they have later after it’s all gone horribly wrong?’ Wilbur replied mimicking his partner in crime, although partner in time would have been a better line in the circumstances. But Wilbur, like most boys his age, was not thinking at all, he was acting like an automaton – simply programmed. And in this instance Wilbur was simply repeating the question back like a simpleton! Unlike an automaton Wilbur Wigglesworth, being a boy of the human species, even one no bigger than a dust mite, would no doubt repeat his mistakes time and time again before bitter experience would finally make him wake up to himself. ‘Wakey wakey, Wilbur Wigglesworth, it’s stupid o’clock time so wake up to yourself!’ ticked the grandmother clock in the corner of the room, severely ticking him off.

  ‘I’m obviously not thinking straight either as it looks like I’m coming along for the rollercoaster ride, but I’m only doing it to keep you from getting us all into trouble,’ grunted Tippy as she followed Wilbur out of her bedroom, along a series of labyrinth-like passageways, through several chambers then up a long ladder and into the face of
the fob watch. In truth the mechanism was like a cross between a 3D labyrinth and a maze, and amazing it was too. That’s if you had come across it for the first time. To most of the young apprentices it felt as if they were mice trapped in a lab experiment.

  ‘The self-impelling steam wheels of the mind turning so fast the wheels are likely to come right off!’ Wilbur mumbled wistfully under his breath, quoting from a poem written by the dead romantic poet Percy Bysshe Shelley. Wilbur had always liked the dead romantic poets like Keats, Lord Byron and Shelley, but did not want to join them for a meeting of the Dead Romantic Poets Society no matter how romantic the graveyard they were holding their meetings in.

  A few minutes later Wilbur and Tippy were under the dome of the glass looking out on a vast expanse of nothingness.

  ‘What beautiful nothingness,’ Wilbur sighed catching a bad case of wanderlust or perhaps that should be wonderlust?

  ‘That’s dead romantic,’ gushed Tippy whirling and twirling on her tiptoes like a ballerina on the top of an old music box.

  ‘There’s a great big world out there of unimaginable scope. Too much for this tiny spyglass and we can’t get to it because we’re imprisoned under a glass dome and housed in a watch watching our lives tick away, tick by tick and never mind the tocks!’ sighed Wilbur as he looked through a retractable brass spyglass that belonged to his father. However, Wilbur quickly parted with the magnified glass eye in favour of the human eye.

  ‘A child’s imagination always exceeds their grasp on the subject of reality, so says Father,’ replied Tippy trying to hide a crescent moon smile with her hand, not as impossible as it may sound. Although in this case Tippy’s smile was so bright and sparkly you would have had to be blind not to have seen its luminescent light, which appeared to brighten up the whole of the clock face.

  ‘Yes, I imagine it does, as I imagine the sky to be made of glass, glass moonstone,’ Wilbur mused back to his lyrical waxing best.