Chapter 6
The cogs were tiny, and Hector’s hands felt numb as he touched them. He remembered feeling every edge when he’d first built the watch, what was both a year ago and lifetimes ago. Now, he couldn’t feel the tiny pieces of metal save for the pressure on his numb fingertips. Calluses that would take several more lifetimes to heal blocked the sensations of a life that was so far gone it might as well have been a dream.
He focused on the tiny gears. The silence was oppressive. The mists might infiltrate at any moment, or pierce the house, and the enemy would swarm.
He forced his breathing to relax and his hands to stop shaking. The quiet before the storm. It had been such a clichéd saying. Until he’d been on the fields of France, in a rat-ridden stinking hole, waiting for the bullets to start flying again. Hoping they would, so he wouldn’t have to wait anymore.
The watch had suffered from age. Age and neglect. Oh, they’d taken care of her casing. It had been polished, and even the original glass was still intact. But it was the inside that mattered.
Stella had known that. But Stella wouldn’t have known what to do with it, save to keep it. Stella’s great-granddaughter, Alva, walked into the room, clutching a portrait, as white as ash. He resisted the urge to stop working on the watch and go to her. She didn’t know him. Stella hadn’t mentioned him, ever, as far as he could tell.
Maybe it made things easier. Maybe it was for the best.
He hesitated and resumed his work on the watch. She sat on a stool at the kitchen island and stared at the watch.
He sighed. He couldn’t ignore her, no matter how much he wanted to. She looked like Stella, or parts of her did. The way she shifted her feet now. The intelligence behind the hazel eyes, as though always thinking, always planning. The flush of her cheek. The rust colour of her hair. He looked at her and saw parts of Stella, and it hurt him more than he could afford to acknowledge.
But, like a watch, it was the inside that counted. And, growing up in a world so different than Stella’s, he had no doubt she would be vastly different.
“Are you all right?” he asked softly. She looked up, surprised at first. Then she shrugged.
“You said you can stop it?” she whispered.
He hesitated and nodded. “If I can get this watch going again, I can.”
Alva nodded. She resumed looking at the watch, and so did he.
Molly joined them. “Are we just going to keep moving like none of this is weird?”
Alva gave her friend a smile. The care in it formed a lump in Hector’s throat. A smile so much like Stella’s.
“It’s weird, Molly. I just…” She paused. Gruff walked into the room and sat down on a stool. The old man looked even more tired.
“Let’s look at your arm,” Molly whispered. He didn’t argue or struggle, just letting Alva and Molly work on him. Hector had seen this before, on the field. The breaking.
He slipped the last gear in place and closed the back of the watch gently. He ran his fingers along the inscription, hidden within the watch, wishing his fingers could feel every groove.
“You’re done?” Alva asked.
He nodded. “I’m going to wind the watch. This should stop the mists.”
They all looked at him expectantly. He held his breath as he wound it carefully, the hands of the watch moving in jerky movements, but moving nonetheless. Away from when Stella had stopped the watch.
We’ll see each other again, my love. Just keep your head down and your heart open, and we’ll see each other again.
The watch went to two o’clock, ticked forward once. Then it began ticking backward.
Hector looked at it, puzzled. The mechanism wasn’t set to be a timer clock, yet…
Time isn’t the matter. Time will always be on our side, for our love exists outside of it. It’s the world that might be the challenge, my love. It’s how we react to its challenges that will keep us together, or break us apart.
The watch was counting down. Three hours. Three measly hours was all he had managed to win back.
The house hummed as electricity returned to it. A radio turned on in the living room. Molly looked down at her small device. He’d love to open it and see what made it work.
“Everything’s back up! I’ll text Pete,” Molly exclaimed.
“Thank you,” Alva mumbled, then she turned to Hector. “Is it over?” Hector closed the front of the watch and looked to them, his eyes coming to a rest on Alva. He couldn’t save Stella, anymore.
He shook his head. “For now. We have to get going and find your sister. I don’t know how long it’ll hold.”
Molly looked up to him, as did Alva. Their eyes were wide and terrified. Gruff just looked down at the counter. Broken.
“But I think I can find a safe spot for us,” he added. Molly looked down right away, but Alva held his eyes, as though measuring the kind of man he was. He found himself straightening his back and looking back, unflinching.
“She’s okay!” Molly shrieked. “Their bus went off the road and they’re trapped in it, but we can get them out!” Alva and Molly spoke quickly back and forth on details of where she was, how they’d get there, what supplies they needed, but Hector ignored them, running his fingers on the watch, lovingly etched details he could no longer feel.
He couldn’t save Stella, but maybe he could find a way to save her children. If only he could move quickly enough.