Chapters and the Hourglass of Time
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Chapters and the Hourglass of Time
By Alexander Kleschelsky
Copyright 2014 Alexander Kleschelsky
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Contents
Chapter 1. The Door
Chapter 2. The Hourglass
Chapter 3. It Is Not Working
Chapter 4. It Is Working
Chapter 5. The Secret
Chapter 6. The Mystery of a Century
Chapter 7. “The Best Day of My Life”
Chapter 8. Galaxy
Chapter 9. “It’s a Calendar”
Chapter 10. “Missing”
Chapter 11. Great Escape
Chapter 12. A Trap
Chapter 13. The Librarians
Chapter 14. Out of the Blue
Chapter 15. Friendly Face
Chapter 16. Predicament
Chapter 17. The Bright Side
Chapter 18. Under the Road
Chapter 19. Friend or Foe?
Chapter 20. The Floating Head
Chapter 21. The Leap of Faith
Chapter 22. The Last Chapter
Chapter 23. The Bag of Surprises
Chapter 24. Plan C
Chapter 25. Uncharted Grounds
Chapter 26. Dead or Alive?
Chapter 27. Meet the Parents
Chapter 28. Should I Learn Chinese?
Chapter 29. The Bait
Chapter 30. Overeducated
Chapter 31. Movie Watchers
Chapter 32. The Road to Freedom
Chapter 33. The Ferry Tale
Chapter 34. Childproof
Chapter 35. The Truth
Chapter 36. I Wish I Could Play with It More
Chapter 37. Sibling Rivalry
Chapter 38. Forget Me Not
Chapter 39. Just Another Chapter
Facts
To my lovely sons. Thank you for guiding me through the uncharted waters of foreign language, and for inspiring me every day throughout this unforgettable journey.
Chapter One
The Door
“Guys, wait up!”
“C’mon, Billy! C’mon, slowpoke!”
Heavy clothing didn't allow Billy to move as fast as he wanted, although he tried his best. But even if he didn’t have his heavy coat on, he was no match for boys two to three years older than him.
Billy looked up the hill. The boys had finished climbing up and were now entering a huge hole in a stone wall where there used to be the gate to the castle.
“Wait up guys! Wait for me!”
Built in the eighteenth century during Britain’s rule, Gothingham Castle was meant to represent the glory and power of the British Empire and to protect its interests on this land. Today it lay in ruins, nearly swallowed by bushes and grass. It had become an attraction to local teenagers and the lucky ones could even see a ghost. There was no way Billy would go alone into the darkness of the castle, or whatever was left of it. He had to catch up with the boys.
The air was cold and hard to breathe, though Billy was sweating in his heavy coat. It had been drizzling for hours, and the uphill road was wet and slippery. When Billy was only a few yards from the top he straightened his back to glance up. At this moment, he lost his footing and fell, hands first in the mud. He muttered, then tried to stand up, but slipped again and began rolling down the castle hill. Billy closed his eyes and covered his face with his arms as he rolled.
When he finally stopped, Billy opened his eyes and found himself at the bottom of the hill among the yellow bushes surrounding the castle. They grew so close to each other that he could barely move. Through their yellow leaves Billy saw the castle wall, which in some places merged with the ground, so the whole castle looked like a giant tree growing from the hill. There seemed to be fewer bushes by the wall, so Billy decided to move close to it until he got back to the road.
The drizzle turned into rain again, making the ground even more muddy and slippery. Moving along the castle wall, Billy kept his eyes down, choosing his steps very carefully. A few times he fell to his knees but stood up and kept on going, leaning against the wall to keep his balance. His pants were dirty and wet. The sweat was all gone, and the cold autumn air started to crawl under his clothing.
When Billy fell again he raised up his head, looking for a stone on the wall to grab onto. That’s when he saw something he wouldn’t have noticed under any other circumstances. Among the uneven stones of the castle wall, covered with dirt and moss, there was a door. The door was very narrow and set deep between the stones in such a way that it was almost impossible to see unless you were right in front of it. For a moment, Billy stood frozen, staring at the door. “No, it can’t be,” he whispered and, proving himself wrong, he saw a big rusty metal ring on the right side of the door. Billy pulled the ring. He wasn’t sure at the moment what he wanted most—for the door to open, or to remain shut. The door didn’t budge. Billy tried again, this time pulling with all his might. The door finally gave and with a deep and low moan it came ajar.
Billy stepped in. It was dark inside. He turned on his flashlight. The place looked more like a small cave than a room. Against the walls were wooden shelves with numerous glass vials and bottles of different shapes and sizes. A large wooden table stood in the middle. Under a thick coat of dust were papers, lots of them, some in a stack, some rolled. Billy wiped off a layer of dust. The papers were covered with writing. They weren’t in English. They looked more like ancient marks, like those he saw in a history book. Billy directed the flashlight beam to the side. On the floor were lots of things that didn’t mean anything to Billy. Among them, he noticed something familiar. He squatted and picked it up.
”Wow!” His eyes glittered in excitement. In his shaky hands he held an ancient hourglass just like the one on the picture in their classroom. “The boys at school are going to cry!”
* * *
Chapter Two
The Hourglass
The hourglass was heavy and quite large. It was the size of the water jug they had in their veranda garden at home. Billy carefully removed a spider web from the frame and wiped dust from the glass. There was no sand inside as he had expected. Instead, there were tiny crystals. Even with the little light coming from the doorway and his small flashlight, the crystals were sparkling with luminous light.
Billy exhaled. “This is amazing!”
Eager to see how it worked, he carefully flipped the hourglass over and put it on the table. The crystals instantly came alive, pouring from the upper chamber to the lower, flashing and sparkling, sending myriad colorful rays in different directions. The whole room filled with mysterious glowing lights. The spectacle was so beautiful that Billy couldn’t take his eyes from it.
Suddenly something unusual caught Billy’s attention. It was quiet, too quiet. He knew his hearing was fine because he could hear himself breathing; he could even hear his own heartbeat. However, there were no other sounds—no sound of raindrops hitting the ground, no sound of wind rustling through the bushes. Billy looked out through the door to the outside. What he saw made his heart pound.
Only a moment ago it had been raining. Now the raindrops hung in the air motionless. Little spheres of water were separate and so definite that Billy could almost see his own reflection. There were millions of them. Nothing m
oved. It was as though he was looking at a photograph.
Billy stepped up to the doorway, stretched out his arm, and carefully touched one of the raindrops. It turned into a liquid and fell, bumping other droplets on its way until they finally hit the ground.
“Cool!”
Billy swung his arm from side to side, creating a cascade of water. The sound from the splashes on the ground echoed in the air.
Suddenly a crazy thought entered Billy’s mind. He looked back at the hourglass.
“No, it can’t be,” whispered Billy, watching as the last crystals fell.
At this instant, loud thunder broke the silence. It happened so unexpectedly that it made Billy duck. That was the loudest thunder he had ever heard. At the same time, the room filled with all the other missing sounds. It was raining again, though it sounded to Billy like a thunderstorm compared to the quiet from a few seconds ago.
Billy starred at the hourglass. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but deep in his mind he knew that whatever it was, it had something to do with the hourglass. It was astounding, and at the same time pretty scary. He took off his coat and wrapped it around the hourglass.
* * *
Chapter Three
It Is Not Working
Billy didn’t remember how he got home. He didn’t remember struggling through the wall of wet bushes or climbing back up to the slippery road. His clothing was soaking wet, but he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to him at that moment was that he had a secret.
As quietly as possible, Billy slipped through the front door and headed to his room.
“Billy, is that you?” His mother’s voice sounded from the kitchen.
“Yes, Mom!”
“How was school?”
“Fine!”
“How is your homework?” asked Billy’s dad without taking his eyes from the TV. The question brought Billy back to reality.
“Almost done!” he answered. “I started at school.”
It was partly true. He did start his homework at school, except it was far from finished.
“Hurry up!” said Mom. “Dinner is almost ready!”
“Okay!” Billy went into his room and closed the door. There, he unwrapped the hourglass and put it in the corner. Only then did Billy start to feel cold. In fact, his body was shivering. He changed from his wet clothes into dry ones. Then he went to the bathroom and put his hands under the warm water. He stood there for quite some time until his body stopped shivering and he felt warm again.
When Billy went back to his room he checked the corner—the hourglass was standing there quietly just as he’d left it. Billy pulled some textbooks and notebooks out of his schoolbag and put them on his desk. “First things first,” he muttered, opening the first book.
No matter how hard Billy tried not to think about the hourglass while doing his homework, he just couldn’t help it. His mind was overflowing with excitement. When his homework was finally done, Billy gave a big sigh of relief. He anxiously put his school stuff away; then he took the hourglass and set it on the floor in the middle of the room. He couldn’t wait to see if it still worked.
In the bright light of his room he could take a better look at the hourglass frame. It was a four-legged stand representing an intricate combination of metal and stone. The bottom and the columns were made of metal. On the top was a stone plate bound by a metal ring that was a part of the frame. The plate had three circles engraved in it with a common center. The smallest circle was divided into twelve even parts by short, straight lines coming from its circumference to the center, like a clock. The bigger middle circle had more lines. Billy counted thirty-one. The last, biggest circle was covered all the way around with some ancient symbols. The final detail of the top side of the frame was three holes right in the middle of the small circle. They formed a triangle with two holes placed close to each other and the third one slightly farther. Billy could easily slide his fingers into the holes. These holes reminded him of something, but at that moment, he couldn’t say what.
“Billy!” His mother’s voice sounded through the house.
“Yes, Mom!” he shouted back.
“Dinner is ready!”
Oh no, thought Billy, I have no time!
He stuck his head out to the hallway. “Coming!”
I’ll be fast, thought Billy, coming back into his room. Just this one time!
He carefully lifted the hourglass, took a deep breath and flipped it over. Shiny little crystals started moving from the upper chamber to the lower one, except nothing happened, nothing unusual anyway. Billy picked up a tennis ball and tossed it into the air, hoping it would stay aloft. But it fell down, bouncing normally, like any other tennis ball.
It is not working. Billy wanted to cry. The thing is broken.
Frustrated, he picked up the ball and threw it harder. The ball hit the floor, bounced up through the slightly opened door to the hallway, and kept on bouncing. Disappointed, Billy followed the ball. When he passed the kitchen, something strange caught his eye.
His father was sitting at the dinner table with his mouth open wide and a spoon with soup halfway in. His eyes were looking straight at Billy but it seemed like they didn’t see him.
“Dad, are you all right?” asked Billy.
There was no answer. Not a sound, not a single move. Billy’s dad was absolutely motionless. It was a scary sight. Billy felt the blood draining from his face.
“Dad!” he shouted frantically.
“Billy!” his dad screamed as he burned himself with hot soup. “Where did you come from?”
“What do you mean?” Billy replied. “I’ve been standing here the whole time, talking to you.”
“Right,” his dad muttered. He turned to Billy’s mom. “First we can’t get him out of his room, and the next moment he appears out of nowhere insisting he was there the whole time and scaring the crops out of me.”
“Give him a break, will you,” Billy’s mom said. “He’s only twelve. What do you expect? Just look at him. His face is all pale because you’re yelling at him.” Then she turned to Billy. “What are you waiting for? Dinner’s getting cold.”
That night Billy couldn’t get to sleep. He lay in his bed with his eyes wide open, thinking of what had happened to him earlier that day. He had in his possession the most important and amazing discovery in the entire history of the world: an hourglass that could stop time. And best of all, nobody else knew a thing about it. He was the only one who had it and it was his secret. With these exciting thoughts, Billy finally fell asleep.
* * *
Chapter Four
It Is Working
The next morning Billy removed all the textbooks from his schoolbag, leaving only thin notebooks and his school agenda. Then he put the hourglass in the bag.
“Perfect,” he whispered. “Just the right size.”
When Billy entered the schoolyard, someone called him.
“Good morning, Billy Somers.”
“Anna-Maria, good morning.”
Every time he saw a beautiful girl he would stumble, feel stupid, and wouldn’t know what to say. He hated himself for that. Anna-Maria wasn’t just a beautiful girl. She was special. She had silky smooth, dark skin. Her straight, obsidian black hair fell on her shoulders, overcastting her long, thin neck. But the most magnificent feature was her wide, green eyes. Whenever Billy locked onto them he couldn’t see anything else—he could stand there and look at them forever. Sometimes he was glad they were going to separate classes. Otherwise, he’d be staring at her all the time instead of his textbooks.
“Are you still coming to my birthday party?” asked Anna-Maria.
“Birthday? Well, yes, of course.”
“You didn’t forget, did you?”
“Oh no, no. Birthday party. Of course, I do. I mean I don’t. I didn’t—uh, forget.”
She smiled. “Well, then. Saturday at three. See you there.”
“Yep. Saturday, three.” The school buzzer r
ang. Billy was so glad to hear it. He turned around and followed the others inside the building.
As the teacher entered the classroom, she shocked the students with the news: “Today there will be a math quiz.”
The class exploded.
“What? We never knew!”
“You never told us!”
“We’re not ready!”
The teacher stood there, quietly waiting for the first wave of fury to calm down.
“I deliberately chose not to announce the quiz. It is easy to pass a test when you study the night before. However, usually the next day after the test you don’t remember half of it.” She paused to make sure she had everyone’s attention. “Therefore,” she continued, “only good marks will be counted. Bad marks, on the other hand, will indicate areas that need to be improved. After all, this is for your own good.”
Realizing that they didn’t have much of a choice, everyone started to pull out their papers and pencils.
“If you ask me,” muttered Billy’s friend, Mike, who sat in front of him, “an unannounced math quiz is like a knife in your back—‘for your own good.’”
Billy couldn’t hold back a smile.
Math wasn’t Billy’s favorite school subject. Not because he couldn’t solve problems, but because there was never enough time. Time was his biggest setback in math. It felt like one moment you open a book and the next moment you hear: “Time’s up!” He envied the kids who finished their work ahead of time. He always wondered how they did it.
The quiz wasn’t the hardest. There were lots of repetitive questions with different ways to find solutions. Billy was doing fine until the first person put the answer sheet on the teacher’s table. Then another, and another. This made Billy feel nervous. It was that same feeling again: time, like sand, was slipping through his fingers.