Chapters and the Hourglass of Time

by Alexander Kleschelsky

  “Well, not really.”

  “All right,” continued the man. “What if I told you that there was a village at the bottom of a mountain and a volcanic eruption was about to occur, killing every living thing in the village? Would you warn the villagers or would you let them die?”

  “I would warn them, of course,” Billy said.

  “Congratulations!” said the man. “You’ve just altered the book.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It means, that the people that were not supposed to exist in the next chapter moved on, interacting with other people and objects, willingly or unwillingly changing the line of events. All this created a chain reaction of unforeseen actions, making the end of the book unpredictable.”

  “Now I am really confused,” Billy said. “What does this have to do with anything?”

  “Imagine now,” said the man, lowering his voice, “that the history of mankind is written and divided into chapters, marking major historical events. Imagine that there are people looking after these chapters, making sure nobody tries to leave a mark on the page or make any changes, at least without their consent.”

  “The Librarians?” asked Billy.

  The man nodded.

  “You said ‘people.’ I thought they were some kind of gods,” Billy said.

  “No, Billy. They are normal people, just like you and me,” the man answered.

  “Then how did they get all this power to control the time and events?”

  “It started many thousands of years ago in Ancient Egypt when an underground lake was discovered by a clan of priests.”

  “Are you one of them?” interrupted Billy.

  “They were my ancestors.”

  “Cool!”

  “But it wasn’t the water that attracted the priests’ attention. It was the particular quality of it. When the water from the lake dries, it turns into little shiny crystals. When the crystals are set in motion, magical things happen. If you pour them from hand to hand, images of the future appear. Soon, a glass vessel to contain the crystals was built, and the time synchronizer was created.”

  “The time synchronizer? What is it?”

  “You may as well call it a calendar. It is the top part of your hourglass. Adjusting it will change the air pressure inside the vessel, which will allow you to choose your point of destination.”

  “But how come the hourglass doesn’t work on the Librarians?” asked Billy.

  “Carrying a satchel with crystals provides immunity,” explained the man.

  Billy leaned back in his chair; he was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information he had just received. Slowly, he came to his senses again. “Knowing so much, don’t you ever feel like telling somebody?” he asked the man.

  “That wouldn’t change anything,” said the man.

  “How do you know if you never tried?” asked Billy.

  “There was a man who did.”

  “Who?”

  “Have you ever heard of Nostradamus?”

  “Nostradamus was a Librarian?”

  “And a good friend of mine,” said the man. “He wanted to tell people what he knew, to warn them of coming wars and catastrophes. He even wrote a book.”

  “The Prophecies.” Billy remembered the conversation with Professor Bauman.

  “Yes,” said the man. “Of course, he could only write about things he knew.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Billy.

  “Every Librarian is assigned to certain number of chapters that he is supposed to look after.”

  “And then what happened?” asked Billy.

  “Some people believed him, some people didn’t. After all, he didn’t change anything. What was meant to happen—did happen.”

  “But how come runners didn’t catch him?” asked Billy.

  “He had no intention to run. They took his hourglass and made him promise not to mention anything about it.”

  “One thing I don’t understand,” Billy said. “He could’ve chosen any time to live in. Why did he choose the medieval times?”

  “He fell in love, wanted to be with his family.”

  “I see.”

  Billy thought of Nostradamus, who for his whole life was trying to tell a story, without being able to reveal the truth of how he came to know such things. That must have been tough.

  Moments passed in silence. One more question was on Billy’s mind. He was afraid to ask, but he had to.

  “What’s going to happen to me?”

  “It’s entirely up to you, Billy,” the man answered. “You can wait for them to come and give them the hourglass. It will save you from lots of trouble.”

  “And live my whole life with all this knowledge, like your friend did?” Billy exploded. “I don’t think I can do that. What if I told somebody?”

  “Who’s going to take you seriously?” the man asked.

  “What if I refuse to give them the hourglass?”

  “You’d have to run. One thing I know for sure is that the Librarians will not let you jump in between chapters, creating ripples of changes. They’ll find a way to stop you.”

  “You mean like kill me?”

  “They are not assassins. But if they have to, they can make it so that you were never born. That is, of course, providing you or your ancestors don’t play a significant role in the future.”

  “So what should I do?” Billy felt desperate.

  “It’s your life, your decision,” said the man, rising up.

  “Wait a second. Are you leaving? Already?”

  “It was nice talking to you, Billy.”

  “Will I see you again?”

  “Nobody knows the future for certain,” the man said.

  “But you do,” exclaimed Billy.

  “Not precisely. Understand, what you do today defines your tomorrow.”

  When the man left, Billy wanted to cry. Never in his life had he felt so lonely. Reflecting upon the events of the last few days, there was such a contrast between the excitement he felt at the beginning and the desperation he was filled with now.

  The police were after him, Professor Bauman was after him, and now a powerful ancient clan was after him, too. He felt like a trapped animal; so many people were around him, yet he felt utterly alone. He couldn’t go home, he couldn’t go to school—they knew all about him and would be waiting. He couldn’t even go out to the street without fearing that he was being followed. His entire world as he knew it was collapsing in front of his own eyes. But why? He hadn’t done anything wrong; he hadn’t stolen anything; he hadn’t killed anyone. Why was everyone after him? All that Billy wanted now was to bring things back to the way they were before he had found that stupid hourglass.

  Wait a minute, Billy thought. That’s it—the hourglass.

  All he had to do was to return the hourglass to the Librarians and all this madness would be over. Since he didn’t commit any crime, the police could not charge him with anything. They would ask him questions, of course, but without the hourglass and an official complaint from some museum about a stolen ancient artifact, they would eventually have to let him go. He could finally go back to his normal life, see his parents, his friends . . .

  A big sigh of relief escaped from Billy’s chest. The people around him didn’t look so unfriendly anymore. He stood up and went out onto the street. The sky was blue. The sun was shining. Billy filled his lungs with fresh air—it felt good. He walked down the street with his chin up. He knew what to do now.

  * * *

  Chapter Fourteen

  Out of the Blue

  The plan was simple. When Billy saw the Librarians he would not be hiding, he would not be running. Instead, he would go straight to them and give them the hourglass. But before that happened, there was one thing Billy wanted most—to redeem himself in Anna-Maria’s eyes, to show her what the hourglass could really do, and to prove to her it wasn’t just a joke.

  Billy put his hands in his pockets and collected some change. He
went to the nearest public payphone and dialed a number. A woman’s voice on the other side of the line answered, “Hello.”

  “Hi, may I speak to Anna-Maria please?”

  “Just a moment.”

  Billy looked around—everything seemed normal, nothing suspicious.

  “Hello?” A.M.’s voice sounded like music. She was definitely in a good mood.

  “Hi, Anna-Maria. It’s Billy. Happy birthday!”

  “Hi, Billy. Thanks. Why are you calling me now? You’re not coming tonight?”

  “Oh no, I’m coming. It’s just . . . I really need to see you before that.”

  “What are you up to?”

  “Nothing. Just want to talk.”

  “All right. Do you want to come now?”

  “Uh, no. Could we meet somewhere outside your place? Say, in our park. Remember the one we used to go to in kindergarten?”

  “Do you want to play in the sandbox?” Anna-Maria laughed.

  “Not really. I just want to show you something.”

  “I’m on pins and needles,” she said.

  “You better be.”

  “I can hardly wait.”

  “All right, then. I’ll see you there in one hour.”

  Billy hung up the phone and smiled, satisfied.

  When he arrived at the park an hour later, Anna-Maria was already there. She was sitting on a bench by the playground. Her Bordeaux coat perfectly matched the autumn carpet of red and yellow leaves on the ground.

  “A.M.!” Billy waved as he approached her.

  “Hello, Billy. How was school today?”

  “What school? There was no school today.”

  “Then why are you carrying your schoolbag?” asked Anna-Maria.

  Billy smiled—she had a sharp eye. He sat beside her on the bench.

  “There’s something I wanted to show you.” Billy pulled the hourglass out of his bag.

  “Wow, feels like déjà vu. Have I seen this before?”

  “Look, A.M.“ said Billy, trying to ignore her obvious sarcasm. “I know I hurt your feelings last time, and for that I’m sorry. But you really should see what this thing can do.”

  Anna-Maria gently touched the glass with her long beautiful fingers. “They really are beautiful, aren’t they?” she pronounced softly.

  “Huh?” Billy raised his eyebrows.

  “The crystals.”

  “Yes, they are,” Billy agreed.

  Still looking at the crystals, Anna-Maria asked, “What did you want to show me?”

  “Okay,” started Billy eagerly, “remember last time I told you that this hourglass could stop time?”

  “Really, this again?” Anna-Maria sounded disappointed.

  “Wait, that isn’t everything,” Billy hurried to continue. “Not only can it stop time, but it can also take you through time—back and forth.” He paused, waiting anxiously for Anna-Maria’s response, but she didn’t seem to be impressed. “Well,” he added, “you can only go to certain chapters.”

  “Chapters?” asked Anna-Maria genuinely surprised. She put her hands in the pockets of her coat and leaned back on the bench. “I am all ears.”

  “Now listen,” said Billy, excited that he had finally gotten Anna-Maria’s attention. “Thousands of years ago in Ancient Egypt a clan of priests discovered a way to travel in time. They built this hourglass and used it as a time machine. Remember, Professor Bauman suggested that the plates were a calendar?”

  “Yes, of course I remember.”

  “He was right!” Billy exclaimed. “Only you cannot choose exactly where to go in time. You can only move in between preset events, or chapters. But that’s not all.

  “There are priests that are watching after each chapter. Their job is to keep things just the way they are. They will not allow any changes whatsoever. They are called the Librarians.”

  “Hmm,” replied Anna-Maria, “interesting.”

  “Apparently,” continued Billy, “and this I am not sure about, there are others who want to change things, to make them better, I guess.”

  “How do you know all that?” asked Anna-Maria.

  “I met a man,” said Billy. “Well, actually, he met me. He told me everything. He’s one of them.”

  “Did he tell you his name?” Anna-Maria asked.

  “No, as a matter of fact, he didn’t.” Billy was surprised that it never occurred to him to ask.

  “So, this story that you just told me, is coming from a man who doesn’t even have a name?” The doubt in Anna-Maria’s voice was hurtful.

  “I know it’s true.” Billy frowned.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because he saved me. I was chased by the Librarians and this man saved me.”

  “The Librarians are after you?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m trying to say,” Billy exhaled as he replied.

  “What do they want with you?”

  “They want to take the hourglass.”

  “I thought you said you found it.”

  “I did, but I didn’t know it was theirs. And now they want it back.”

  “So, what are you going to do now?” asked Anna-Maria.

  “Well, I guess I’ll just give it back to them.” Billy shrugged his shoulders. “But before that . . .” He picked up the hourglass. “It is time for a little demonstration.”

  “I’m afraid that won’t be necessary,” said Anna-Maria in a cold voice. “I’m sorry, Billy, but you already know too much.”

  “What? What are you saying?” A gloved hand lay on Billy’s shoulder. He tried to move, but another gloved hand clamped onto his other shoulder, pinning him to the bench. Billy looked back—the Librarians stood right behind him. Billy turned to Anna-Maria to warn her, but surprisingly she showed no intention to run. On the contrary, she was very calm.

  “A.M., what’s going on?”

  “Billy . . .” Her voice had never sounded so distant. “I am a Librarian.”

  “You are a what?”

  Something stung Billy on the neck and everything went dark.

  * * *

  Chapter Fifteen

  Friendly Face

  When Billy woke up, he found himself laying in darkness on cold sand. His vision was blurry. The only thing he could see was dim light coming from a white circle high up above. Oh great, he thought. I’m in the sandbox on the playground in the middle of the night. My parents are going crazy right now.

  Billy sat up and rubbed the back of his neck. He must have been injected with a sleeping drug or something, but now memories were slowly coming back. Billy got to his feet and, keeping his arms in front of him, began carefully walking. His body was still shaking.

  Suddenly, his fingers touched something. Billy stopped. The surface was cold and uneven. He slid his arms up and down across the surface. It felt like a stone wall. What would a stone wall be doing on the playground? He took a few steps along the wall seeking its end, but the wall kept going. He walked some more, but the wall seemed to be endless. A bad feeling like cold liquid silver filled his lungs, blocking the airway. Billy leaned against the wall and slouched down. His body was shivering.

  Breathe, Billy, breathe, he thought. Don’t panic. He lifted the collar of his coat and closed his eyes.

  A few minutes later, when he opened his eyes again, he could finally see clearly. The wall he was sitting by indeed had no beginning or end—it was the stone wall of a well. The circle of light above that he had initially mistaken for the moon was the well opening—and the only exit. The well widened at the bottom, but there was no sign of water. Apparently, it was meant to be a cell for prisoners. Billy had no idea where he was, or, based on his recent experience, what time he was in. His only option was to sit and wait for someone to come.

  Not much later he heard some noise at the top of the well. Streams of sand poured down at him, and then a rope fell.

  “Climb up!” a man’s voice commanded.

  Billy couldn’t see the man’s face, only a silh
ouette. “I won’t!” he shouted back.

  “Don’t make me come down there, ’cause if I do, you are going up in a bucket!”

  Billy didn’t have much of a choice. “All right, I’m coming up!”

  He clutched the rope with both hands and started to climb. By the time he got to the top, he was all sweaty and exhausted. Strong hands grabbed Billy and pulled him out of the well. The sunlight was so bright that Billy had to cover his eyes with his hands.

  “Move!” The man pushed Billy forward.

  Billy started walking. When his eyes adjusted to the bright light, he was able to check his surroundings. They were walking in a courtyard covered with sand. Big walls were on both sides of the yard. Billy could see guards on the top of the walls. Ahead of Billy was a palace with tall columns and statues.

  Billy glanced back over his shoulder to take a better look at his guard. It was a tall masculine man with dark skin. His clothing was made of rough fabric and leather. He had sandals on his feet and a short sword strapped to his belt above a kilt. In his hand, he held a whip.

  The heat became unbearable. Billy slowed down to remove his coat, but the guard gave him a forceful push. Billy kept on moving.

  When they came to the palace entrance, there were two men guarding the doorway. They wore the same clothing as Billy’s guard, but instead of a whip, they each held a short spear, which made them look more like soldiers.

  The guard spoke to them in a language that Billy had never heard before. The soldiers nodded. One of them went inside the palace, while the other stepped behind Billy and shoved him so hard that he fell to the floor and rolled over. The soldier nodded to the doorway and barked in the same strange language.

  “Okay, I got it,” mumbled Billy as he followed the first soldier inside. He wasn’t a big fan of their manners, but he had no other choice but to obey.

  When Billy entered the palace, the first thing he noticed was that everything was sparkling clean. There was not a grain of sand on the tile floor. The walls and columns were covered with golden frescos and engravings that somehow seemed very familiar. Only when Billy saw human statues with animal heads did he remember the same pictures from a history book.

  Oh my, I’m in Ancient Egypt!

  He couldn’t tell whether he was more scared or excited.

  The soldiers brought Billy to a big door. There stood a bald man in yellow robes.