The Pocket Watch

by Michael Shaw

  In all the chaos, I’d periodically remember that I needed to change things. Right before we left, it hit me. David Kemp has to go. Now’s your chance. I tried to go back in for him, but then he fired at us, like last time. I shut the door at just the right time.

  “Man, again?” I sighed.

  “Again?” Past Jon asked.

  And then it went back into a blur again. I kept realizing that things were happening the same way, and I’d let out that realization, but of course, my past self did not understand. Then, the blur would return.

  We were driving away, my mind still fatigued.

  “What’s going on?”

  I grit my teeth. “I… I was supposed to fix it this time!” I hit the steering wheel.

  “What’s-”

  “No more words.” I pressed down on the accelerator. “Just listen.” I reached over and got Jacob’s phone out, and I used it to text Hunter’s new number. “This is Jon. Go to Savings Inn. Bring everything that’s left.”

  I informed my past self about the power source, and he asked me how I found out about it. I couldn’t explain it; I had no way to, because I still didn’t understand. But he kept pursuing the dilemma, and it frustrated me.

  “Where did the timeline change?” He asked. “How were you able to cause the loop?”

  “There was no change!” I erupted, angered that David was still going to go after Alex. “Don’t you get it? I went back to do it differently. But it didn’t work.”

  I continued on the route to the motel. I needed to drop my past self off and move on from there. What to do next… I had a day lead on David Kemp now in terms of knowledge. Alex. I need to warn Alex.

  While he was still conscious, I informed my past self about the video. The one that I still refused to believe my father was involved in.

  I kept driving, and my past self kept looking confused. He was losing consciousness. And he looked terrible, too. All wet and beaten up. His face made me think of Alex’s.

  That man killed my family. I sped up. I won’t let him kill my friend. “I need you to make David Kemp regret ever coming back to this time,” I said aloud.

  Past Jon looked over at me.

  “I need you to keep David from taking him.”

  “Him?”

  ∞

  It wasn’t long before Past Jon blacked out. I kept driving and eventually made it to the motel. Hunter was there, waiting in the parking lot.

  “You got my text.”

  He rubbed his head. “Yeah.”

  “Didn’t know if you’d trust that it was me.”

  He held his hands out. “Either way, what else would I have done?” He looked around the parking lot and rubbed a bump on his head. “So, how was your night?”

  “Trust me…” I opened the passenger door and picked myself up. Literally, I picked up my past self in my arms. “It’s been interesting.”

  Hunter approached the two of me. “Whoa. What’s going on?”

  “It’s best right if you follow my lead. I can’t explain much, but right now,” I offered my passed out body to him, “take this me, and buy that room.” I nodded over to one of the ground floor motel rooms.

  “Okay.” He rushed Past Jon over to the Jeep and put him in the back seat.

  “Got my bags?” I asked.

  “Yeah, in the trunk.” He started to walk toward the lobby so he could rent the room.

  I reached into the duffel, pulled out the Jericho pistol, and grabbed every extra round I had.

  “By the way,” he turned back. “Which one of you is which?”

  “I’m the future one.”

  He scratched his head. “Got it…”

  I returned to the gun. My right hand felt its cold handle. Not quite the same as holding the watch. I looked at the back of my hand, then over to my past self in the back seat. It made me queasy, bringing that odd sensation back. My arm pulsed, and my head got a migraine. I bent over and put my hand on the bumper. A fire filled my arm and chest.

  I looked away from my past self and waited for the feeling to subside. When I could pick myself back up, I put the gun in the front part of my pants, with the handle protruding from the top. This way, I would hopefully be able to grab and draw it quickly. Hopefully.

  I closed the back of the Jeep and went back to Jacob’s car, but I still felt a pain in my chest. I leaned against the car door, breathing heavily. I lowered my shirt and put a hand on my chest. I could feel the heat running through. The veins on my entire right half were practically all red now, and it had spread closer to the middle of my chest.

  Hunter emerged from the lobby with the key. Seeing me doubled over, he cringed. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah… Just one more thing.” I leaned into the car and opened the glove box. A pad of paper and pen sat under where Jacob’s phone had been. I tore off a slip and wrote down the address. Just like my future self had done. Plus, I put the date and time he had written, 05/16/42. 11:07 pm.

  “What do you think will happen when it reaches your heart?” He nodded at my veins.

  I gave him the paper. “If things go well, I’ll never have to find out.”

  He nodded. “What are you going to do now?”

  “You’ll see,” I got into the car, “when I meet you on the other side.”

  ∞

  I tried to drive as quickly as I could to Alex’s house. The car glided across the road, soaring under the night-time sky. The time was three in the morning.

  I made an effort to stay focused, but my heart pumped violently from behind my chest. My entire arm felt heavy. The red in my veins was spreading to my heart. Hunter’s concerns were right. What would happen when it hit my heart? And why was it affecting me so much now?

  Images from the past week mixed together and raced around my brain. Every memory and person saturated my consciousness. David Kemp and company believed that I would be the one to bring time travel to the world over fifty years into the future. David convinced Alex that my father, George Ashe, had killed his own father, Jarod Nelson, by showing Alex that video. Eclipse’s achievements and motives were still mysterious to me, and the pocket watch had made a blender of my brain with its effects on my memories.

  Though I had learned a lot about using the watch, much of its nature still eluded me. It typically made me remember past memories. But now, when I went back in time, it made me forget what had happened in the scenario I returned to.

  How does a piece of machinery do that to someone? I thought. Why does this collection of metal gears and parts feel alive?

  The road before me began to appear blurry. I strained my eyes to stay lucid. My right pocket felt heavier and heavier, as though it were sinking down through the seat. My heart pumped, my arm ached, and my world began to spin.

  I pulled off of the road and onto the shoulder.

  No. No, don’t let it take you down again. I breathed heavily and lay my head against the wheel. You have to get to Alex…

  The suburb was close. I knew it. All I had to do was get myself together.

  From where, I don’t know, but I got the feeling of a claw coming around me. Dark, and spiny. I shivered, and it enraptured me. What’s happening to me? I pulled at my hair with both hands. Is this what happens when you go back in time for too long?

  Everything surrounded me, and my stomach jumped into my throat. It was a battle between me and the watch.

  The pocket watch won.

  ∞

  I jerked awake. The nausea hit me instantly. I opened the door and puked onto the road. I looked up. I had pulled my car next to some bar and grill. The sun was in the sky. How long was I out? I rushed into the bathroom at the bar, and I splashed water from the sink onto my face. I had to get myself together. When I left, I heard footsteps in the alley next to the building.

  “Jonathan Ashe,” someone said.

  I stopped. I knew that voice.

  “Come this way.”

  I turned around to face him. In the alley stood Jacob Rich
ards. A gun in one hand, a bottle in the other. I held my hands up toward him. “Whoa, take it easy-”

  “Just do what I said, Ashe.”

  I slowly advanced his way.

  He backed up as I came toward him, leading us further and further into the alley until we were covered in shadow. Nobody that walked by would even be able to see us.

  “Sit down,” he demanded.

  I looked down at the ground. My gun was on me, but I hesitated to take it out. If I draw it now, he’ll shoot me.

  “Sit.”

  I did.

  He kept the gun aimed my way, sat down in front of me, and set his bottle to the side, next to a pile of a few others. He was acting differently than I had ever seen him act. Stern. Reserved. Angry.

  “Take your gun out. Slowly.”

  I closed my eyes. There goes my only weapon. I lifted my shirt and carefully pulled it out.

  “Give it here.”

  I did.

  He examined it. “It sticks out like a sore thumb when it’s lodged in your pants like that.” He set it next to him while keeping his own gun on me.

  We stared at each other.

  Jacob Richards looked different. His eyes were bloodshot and heavier than usual. His left hand shook. It seemed his demeanor held more confidence when David wasn’t around, yet at the same time, more melancholy.

  I shifted my eyes to the left. All those bottles were empty. Looking back at Jacob, I saw he could hardly keep his head balanced.

  “I was wondering if I’d ever see that car again,” he croaked, nodding in the direction of his Mustang. “Looks like fate brought you here.”

  “I have yet to believe in fate,” I mumbled.

  “After you escaped, David and I didn’t know what to do.” He tilted his head down a bit. “I just… left. I left him. I didn’t even come back to Luna.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I kept thinking about everything we had done, and everything that had gone wrong.”

  There was nothing for me to do now. The watch couldn’t pause time because I was still in the past. My double was still here and hadn’t gone back yet.

  “Tell me, have you encountered a single cop since you ran away?”

  I thought back, and I shrugged. “Only one, I think-”

  “Someone’s protecting you, Ashe.” He grit his teeth. “And what… kills me, is that you seem to have taken it for granted. I saw that man on the train,” he said, looking off to the side. “Yet it’s taken me till now to realize that there’s much more to this than any of us had known.”

  I remembered the man who had followed me on the train. And who had left me that note. And those pictures. What did that mean to Jacob, though? “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “I don’t think we should have gone back for you, Ashe. Not like this…” He lifted the gun and pointed it at my face. “Perhaps, if I were David Kemp, I would just kill you now.”

  I lifted my hands toward him. “Do you want your car, Jacob? Or your phone? I can give you-”

  “I don’t care about the car!” He growled.

  I lowered my hands.

  “Going back in time,” he hesitated, “it does things to you.” He wiped his face. “I question now if we really knew what we were doing.”

  “What are you saying?” I asked.

  “I’m saying… I’m done.” He looked up. “I refuse to keep going on like this.” His eyes grabbed mine, and my skin crawled. “You don’t even know some of the things I’ve had to do since we started planning this thing.” He glared his eyes. “Makes it harder to sleep at night.”

  My eyes lowered to his trembling hands.

  He coughed into his sleeve.

  I looked around for any way to get out.

  “Did you know that I had a wife?”

  David Kemp’s memories came back to me. I looked back at Jacob. “I do. She… died.”

  He shot his eyes at me, but he did not ask how I knew that.

  “Do you know how she died?”

  I silently shook my head “no.”

  He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Ever since I was a teenager, I’ve been deeply addicted to alcohol.” His eyes crept open. “I eventually changed that. Today, I would have been going on two years sober.” He looked over at the bottles. “But… I suppose that streak is up.”

  I looked down at the gun at his side, then to my right, at the opening of the alley.

  “My only other relapse was back when people started selling time machines on the street. I bought one so I could steal liquor.” He lowered the gun and lifted his other hand to it, rubbing the slide with his thumb. “My wife had gotten me sober once, but ever since the time machines came, I could do what I wanted to without her even knowing. Pause time, ”

  A few people walked by the alley, but we were far back; no one could see us. I bent my legs and wrapped my arms around them.

  “One day, she found out,” he continued, “and we got in an argument at our house. I was drunk while I was trying to deny everything. She pushed me in frustration. I pushed her back, and then…” He stopped.

  I listened, deathly still.

  He choked on his words. His lips trembled. “We - we were on the landing, up the stairs, and when I pushed her, she fell over the guard rail.” He bit the tip of his tongue. “I… I tried to stop time but I wasn’t soon enough.” He looked up at me. “I ran down the stairs to her, but then I tripped and fell. I blacked out, too drunk to even hold myself up anymore.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Jacob’s eyes stared at the ground.

  “She landed on her head…” He said, raising his eyes to mine. After a moment of calm, he shook his head and grit his teeth. “Get up.” He gestured with his gun.

  I held my breath. My eyes fixated on the pistol pointed at me.

  “Get up!” He demanded.

  I stood, and so did he, grabbing my pistol in his other hand.

  “I’ve got blood on my hands,” he exhaled, “and unlike David,” he pointed the gun at me, “I’m not ready to live with myself for that.”

  I took a step back. “Then how will this fix what you’ve done, Jacob? How does that even make sense?”

  “David knows that changing the past can change the character of a man. Nurture is a powerful factor.”

  The only thing in between Jacob and me were my two outstretched arms, reaching up in surrender. I took another step back.

  “If Jonathan Ashe dies,” the barrel stared me in the eye, “I bet a lot of the evil that David, Howard, and I have done would be erased.”

  “Now you’re sounding a lot like David,” I said, shaking.

  He nodded, biting his lip. “But I guess it’s hard to know, right?”

  I swallowed, backing up into the wall.

  “It’s hard to know what will really happen when you make a fingerprint on the past.”

  He had me. Helpless. Just like he and his company had done before. And once again, I had no way out. No escape.

  “Now listen to me, Ashe.” His eyes watered. “I want you to remember this day.”

  I held my breath, watching him take a long, hard look at me. Everything around me seemed to be drowned out by the face of Jacob Richards and the pistol in his hand.

  “Remember this day when you become the one with blood on your hands.” He lifted the gun and put it in his mouth.

  My heart jumped. I reached toward him. “Wait-”

  Jacob Richards pulled the trigger. A firework exploded out the back of his head, and he collapsed to the ground.

  My eyes, stunned, and wide open, watched his body hit the pavement. I remained still standing there, save for my trepidation. The gunshot rang in my ears. After several seconds I snapped out of it and ran over to him, speechless. The gruesome sight made me gag. His blood spilled out, pouring into one of the sewer gutters. I knelt over him, not sure what to do. But it was over now.

  “Wait,” I repeated, my mind unable to catch up to what had just happened. “Wait…”
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  His dead eyes, sitting in his resting head, seemed to look right at me.

  I tried to stand up and back away, but I accidentally tripped and fell backwards onto my butt. The ringing subsided, and I was left with the cold silence of that bleak alleyway. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall.

  Slowly, I reached my hand down into my pocket, and I pulled out the pocket watch. It was already mid-afternoon, and I didn’t know when David Kemp would come for Alex Nelson. I grabbed my gun and left Jacob Richards behind.

  No one came to the sound of the gunshot.

  Chapter 28

  I knocked three times on his door. It was now evening; the preceding circumstances, plus some bad traffic, caused me to arrive at Alex’s house much later than I intended. And I hadn’t even thought about how I was going to explain myself to him.

  I wiped my face and tried to remove the images of Jacob Richards from my mind. His tears would not be shed in vain, I hoped. But I wanted to prevent the future he spoke of in a different manner than he or any of the others had tried. I refused to become the Jonathan Ashe that they knew. I refused to believe that I even had the capacity to be the murderer they saw. But I couldn’t get Jacob’s warning out of my head, his warning about the day when I would have blood on my hands.

  I knocked again. No one came to the door. I tried the handle. Unlocked. My hand slowly pushed on the door, and it opened.

  “Hello?” I called inside.

  Silence.

  I walked down the entrance hallway, the wooden floor creaking under the weight of my feet.

  I knew that the hall connected to another hall on its right, and if I went straight, it would open up into the kitchen. As I advanced toward the intersection, I saw a splotch of red. I looked closer, slowly advancing. The red was on the corner of the connecting hallways. A bloody handprint.

  I slowly pulled out my pistol. Am I too late? I rounded the corner. A blood streak went across the right wall, and different patches of blood covered the floor. There appeared to have been a struggle. My eyes followed the blood, and then they ended upon what was at the end of the hall.