The Pocket Watch

by Michael Shaw

  “Five batteries,” I said.

  He put his hands on the table, leaning forward. “How much do you think that gives it?”

  “Well, I don’t know.” I scratched my head. “It depends on how many percentage points each one brings back. Every time it paused for a ten minute span of time, it took about a percent or two away.” I rubbed the smooth metal with my thumb. “But at five percent, it could go a full three hours back in time.” I leaned over to my right, taking the claw from the nightstand and putting it on the table. “It’s almost as though it takes less energy to move through time than to keep it still.”

  “Five percent for three hours,” Hunter thought aloud. “Have you thought about how many hours a hundred percent would be?”

  “No, actually,” I replied. “A hundred percent would have to be…” I did the math in my head. My heart sank. “Sixty.”

  Hunter took his hands off the table, and he rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Only sixty hours,” I said. I looked back down at the watch. “That means I can’t even…”

  “You can’t go back to save them,” Hunter said softly.

  I exhaled and put my head in my hands.

  Was this really it? Why hadn’t I considered the numbers before? The watch, fully charged, would only be able to go back two days and a half. “Then Steven Edward is my last hope,” I realized.

  “Who?”

  “He invented the watch with my father,” I explained. “I bet he’s the only one who knows how to make it go further back.”

  “That is, if he’s still alive.”

  “Donald said he’d find him.”

  “Yeah. Donald,” Hunter murmured.

  “What is it with you and him?”

  He ignored the question. “Maybe we won’t need Steven Edward. Think of it this way.” He sat back down. “Those people that were after you wanted to use that pocket watch, too. And they wanted to go back just as far, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So,” Hunter picked up the claw, “maybe they know something we don’t. After all, they do think it can go back far enough.”

  “They didn’t even know what the power source was,” I replied. “How would they know how far in time it could go?”

  “According to you, these guys are from the future,” he pointed the claw at me. “If that’s so, I’d trust them more than you, Marty McFly.”

  I snatched the claw from his hands. “Careful with that. Who’s Marty McFly?”

  He gave me a puzzled face. “Seriously, you haven’t seen Back to the Future?”

  I put the claw down. “Why do you reference these old movies all the-”

  “Okay listen.” He held his hands up in front of him. “These guys came back using a machine less precise than yours, right?”

  I leaned back in my chair and nodded.

  “They went, what, a few decades back? You’ve got a better device. There’s no reason it shouldn’t go farther than theirs.”

  “That all makes sense, but,” I held up the watch, still at zero percent, “you can’t go higher than a hundred percent.”

  “Yeah,” he sighed, scratching his chin. “I don’t know. We could sit around here guessing,” he put a finger down on one of the batteries, “or we could see for ourselves.”

  I lowered my eyes down to the table. “Right.” I counted just four. “What happened to the fifth?” I looked up at the refrigerator. It wasn’t there either.

  “Hunter.” I looked back at him. “Put it down.”

  “What? Oh.” He reached into his pocket and pulled it out. “I was just fiddling around and forgot about it, sorry.” He placed it on the table.

  I raised an eyebrow at him before focusing back on everything in front of me.

  The claw reached under the back cover of the pocket watch. When I squeezed on its handle, it seemed to release something that fit in the crevice perfectly, opening it with ease. “They didn’t know much about the watch,” I lifted the claw in front of my eyes, “yet they seemed to have the perfect thing to open it.”

  “Maybe it’s standard in their time.”

  I placed it down and put the watch in front of me, getting my first good look at the inside of the device.

  The inside was a perfect size for one of the batteries, plus a little space. I remembered that my father had placed that circular card in this slot as well.

  The inside reminded me of an old, minimalistic CD player. A small circular piece was in the middle, which rotated without resistance when I pressed my finger against it. I placed the disc inside, and the center piece clasped tightly to it.

  I hesitated for a moment, peering up at Hunter.

  He rubbed his forehead and shrugged. “Go for it. It’s what you’ve been waiting for.”

  I closed the cover. The watch immediately began vibrating.

  Hunter and I watched it.

  It felt like the center piece was rotating the battery inside. Quite rapidly, by how it felt. The watch grew very hot, so I set it on the table, but then it started to rattle toward the edge.

  “Watch it,” Hunter said, pointing at it.

  I stood up and grabbed the pocket watch. Now it was stinging hot; I rushed it over to the bed and plopped it onto the covers.

  Smoke started emerging from the insides of the watch. Red smoke.

  “Oh man.” Hunter looked up at the smoke alarm, then ran over and waved at the emerging fumes.

  After about ten seconds, the vibrating stopped.

  I stood, focusing on the watch, and Hunter waved the smoke away. When it all dissipated, we were left staring at the pocket watch, sitting in the middle of the bed. I bent over to pick it up. It was still a bit warm, but I could hold it now.

  I opened the front cover. Twenty percent was now in the watch.

  “Well?”

  “Twenty percent,” I smiled.

  “So all five will give us a full hundred.”

  “Yes,” I turned the watch over. “Yes they will.”

  Hunter handed me the claw. I opened up the back of the watch, and a little more smoke came out. The vapors made me cough. When it all cleared away, I saw the inside of the time machine. The once red battery was now completely silver. I pulled it out and immediately placed it on the table; it was searing hot.

  “Now what?” Hunter asked.

  “Now, we do it four more times.”

  ∞

  One hundred percent. For the first time, I had my father’s pocket watch at full capacity. It was late in the evening now. I wondered when I would go back and save my past self. Or when I needed to. Knowing that my future self would soon be my present self, I kept thinking about if and when my time would come. It made my head spin.

  “Do you know where the gas station was?” I asked Hunter.

  He opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out a slip of paper. An address was scrawled across it. “Courtesy of your friend. That is, yourself.” It was in my handwriting. “It’s about thirty minutes out,” he said. Underneath the address was a date and time. 05/16/42. 11:07 pm.

  I folded the paper and put it in my pocket, thinking.

  Hunter watched me. “If you’re planning on doing something, remember, we need to get that video file back as soon as possible.”

  I closed my eyes. The video. One of the most confusing parts in this. Were they telling the truth? Did my own father kill Alex’s dad? It would explain why he was so angry at me. But I refused to believe it. There had to be some other explanation. Howard, David, and Jacob must have used it to put Alex against me, I considered. “What if I don’t go back,” I thought out loud.

  “What?”

  “What if I never go back like my future self did? What would happen?”

  Hunter frowned. “Then you wouldn’t be saved.”

  “But I’m here now, aren’t I? I’ve already been saved. What happens if I don’t go back?”

  Hunter shook his head. “Would that cause some sort of… alternate string of events?”
/>   I rubbed my forehead. “This is the same thing David struggled with.”

  David. Where was he now? Had my future self gone back for him after he left me with Hunter? What happened?

  Hunter plopped his hand on the table. “Face it, Jon, can you really risk not going back? Look,” he slid the watch toward me, “you have the power to take control again.”

  I picked it up. A feeling of strength hit me, reaching from my fingers up through my arm. My enemy had told me that I was powerless without the watch. But now, I had it in its most powerful state. My eyes connected with Hunter’s. “And the mission?”

  “Tomorrow night.”

  I nodded, letting my gaze descend back onto the pocket watch. When it was in my hand, I could ignore the red lines that so boldly spread across my arm and chest. They weren’t a problem to me when I felt the cold steel in my palm.

  “You have to make sure your past self gets back here in one piece,” he said. “You’re the only one who can.”

  ∞

  I took all my bags and Jacob Richards’ phone with me. Hunter came along. Our only ride was the yellow Jeep, and he didn’t want to be stranded at the motel without a ride.

  The abandoned gas station was just the same. Run down. Cracks in the driveway. All the pumps gone, of course. Overgrowth in certain areas. A faint stench filled the place.

  “When I go back,” I told Hunter, “you need to wait for me.”

  He didn’t understand.

  “My double is still out there, doing I don’t know what,” I explained. “As soon as I’m gone, I bet he’ll come back.”

  “Right,” Hunter replied, thinking it through.

  We entered the gas station bathroom. I held the watch, and Hunter held my duffel bag. The door was loose on its hinges. The room remained fairly dim. Its only light came from the full moon outside.

  Hunter gagged at the smell of the place.

  I surveyed the room. Everything was gone but the green plastic bin, chair, and table.

  Howard’s blood, now dry, covered a large section of the floor.

  I kicked the plastic bin to the side. “Okay, here we go.” I held my hand out to Hunter. “There’s a gun in the bag.”

  He reached inside and searched around. “No, there’s not.”

  I turned around. “What?”

  He opened it up. “See?”

  I knelt down and dug through the whole thing. Where was my dad’s pistol?

  “Do you think…” He looked at me. “Future Jon?”

  I scratched my head. “I guess so.” Inside the bag, the only weapon I saw was the bat. “My future self went back with this.” I stood up with it in my hand. “I guess we’ve got everything together, then.”

  Hunter nodded. “Finally, we can get back on track-”

  A ringtone cut him off.

  He and I stared at each other for a second.

  I reached into my pocket. Jacob Richards’ phone was ringing.

  “Video call,” I said, reading the screen.

  “From who?”

  I glanced up at him and handed him the bat. I answered the call. “It’s David Kemp.”

  Chapter 27

  Hunter peered onto the screen from over my shoulder.

  David, with bags under his eyes and heavy breaths, stared at me, fire in his pupils. “Jacob’s phone is untraceable,” he hissed, “but I figured I’d stop trying to run to you,” he spat to the side, “and let you run to me.”

  Hunter and I glanced at each other.

  David held his phone out and to the side, revealing someone next to him.

  Alex.

  He was bound to a chair, similar to how I had been bound here in the gas station. But Alex was much more beaten and battered. Bruised eye. Blood sat under his nostrils and stained a gag that was over his mouth. His hair, frantic and mangled.

  I gripped the phone tightly. “Alex…”

  His eyes barely lifted.

  David held his other hand up, and in its grasp was his knife. Completely clean, shining. “We’re at Luna headquarters right now,” he rubbed the flat of the blade across Alex’s cheek, “and you’re going to bring the pocket watch.” The knife slid down the cheek and onto his neck. Alex jerked his head away.

  David responded by striking him with the back of his hand.

  “Don’t touch him!” I objected. My hands trembled and squeezed the phone.

  David took the camera off of Alex. “Seventeenth floor. Bring yourself, and the watch, by 2:00 am,” he breathed. “Try anything funny, and your friend dies.” He tilted his head. “You don’t want two Nelson’s deaths on your family’s head, do you?”

  “I swear, if you-”

  “Save it, Ashe,” he bit. “The door’s open for you, and you’re running out of time.”

  “Wait. David-”

  He hung up.

  I clenched my teeth, and my body shook sporadically.

  Hunter took a step back.

  I yelled out in rage and threw the phone against the wall.

  “Jon…”

  “Give me the bat.” I held my hand out.

  He backed up again. “What are you going to-”

  “Now.” I pulled out the watch and set the time. 05/16/42. 11:07 pm. It was 10 pm sharp right now, so the time loss would be just under twenty-three hours.

  He tentatively held the wooden baseball bat out to me.

  I snatched it and wiped my eyes. “My future self should contact you soon,” I said quickly.

  “Okay,” he replied. “Then what-”

  I pressed the button and left, feeling much like the man I’d seen in my dream.

  ∞

  Going back in time is agonizing. When I had travelled back before, I’d never gone more than an hour away. Now, I was practically going back a full day. When I pressed the button, the sensation attacked my head and hand. My brain felt as though it were being filled with water, overflowing into the rest of my head. My eyes screamed, and I saw nothing but white.

  I closed my eyelids shut, but the brightness pervaded. I would have continued to see it, too, if it were not for the pocket watch. For just as my body went back, my mind did too, and another memory flashed in front of me.

  It was 2025. I was five years old. I sat on the staircase in my home, hugging my knees. Dad and Mom were in the living room just around the hallway. Their voices were a bit difficult to hear, but I could make out most of what they were saying.

  “George, he’s missing,” my mother whispered fiercely.

  “I know,” my father’s smooth voice replied.

  “Then why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I just found out, too, Carrie. This just happened, okay?”

  “Claire said that Jarod was working late that night. Weren’t you there?”

  “Yes, I saw him while I was there, but… but I came home before he did,” he explained.

  “How does this even happen in such a highly guarded place as Luna?” Her voice shook. “I mean, George, this is really unsettling-”

  “Claire.”

  “If - if this could happen to him, then what does that mean for-”

  “Don’t,” he said sternly.

  She let out muffled cries.

  “Don’t say that. You and I are fine. Our family is fine.”

  “I just can’t imagine how this has been on Claire and little Alex.”

  “It’s only been a day. There’s still hope for finding him.”

  She sniffed and let out a shaky breath. “George…”

  A moment of cold silence passed.

  “Why do I feel like you hide things from me?”

  An even longer moment dragged on.

  “There’s nothing to hide,” he assured soothingly, “there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  ∞

  Kindergarten. Recess. I sat by myself at one of the picnic tables next to the playground, playing with Batman toys. Alex sat with me, but he was very quiet.

  I looked at him. He held his chin up in his
hands, and his eyes stared down at the wood chips.

  “I’m sorry your dad died,” I said.

  “They’re still looking for him,” he replied quietly.

  We sat in silence for a long time.

  I put a toy next to him. “Wanna’ be Harvey Dent?”

  He glanced up at the figure.

  “He fights crime.”

  Alex shifted his eyes at me, then back down at the toy.

  I nodded, posing Batman on the splintery wood.

  “Harvey turns into Two-Face. He’s a bad guy.” He put the Harvey toy in front of me and picked up Batman. “You be Harvey. I’ll be Batman.”

  “I didn’t know he turned out that way,” I frowned, fumbling with the figure.

  “Should’ve looked at the whole story.”

  ∞

  It ended, and I was ready to topple over. But I kept my mind focused. It felt as though the redness, whatever it was, had gone further into my chest. I regathered myself; Alex’s face faded, and in front of me was my own. On the floor of that dark bathroom. David’s back was turned to me. Howard’s body lay lifeless.

  I was about a day in the past, when David was about to kill me. My right arm pulsated like a heartbeat. I struggled to remember. What happened next? What did I do? My memory of the incident was suddenly fading. All I knew was that I needed to save myself.

  David sat there, unaware of me. I thought of what he did to Alex, and my fingers shook.

  “There’s a certain way I have to do things,” he said.

  I gripped the bat; his statement jogged my memory. I tightened my fingers around the handle and spoke firmly. “What about the power source?”

  Both my past self and David turned to me.

  “What…” Past Jon said, dumbfounded.

  I wound up the bat, and then the events happened. Everything I did, everything I said, somehow turned out the same. I hit David. I freed Past Jon. I got Jacob’s keys. We escaped in the car. One-for-one, the events repeated. I didn’t even plan it to happen this way; it was almost a blur. Whenever I did or said something, I was overcome by a feeling of deja-vu. But simultaneously, I was acting intuitively. I did not try to match up the events; I just tried to do my best to save my past self. And everything somehow kept ending up the same way.