Beatrice and the clock of the world: A short story Beatrice sat cross-legged on the expensive carpet, staring up at the huge grandfather clock standing in front of her. She couldn’t believe that it was now her responsibility to care for the physical embodiment of the concept of time. It was exciting, but she could not forget why. The clock belonged to her because, after her father's death two weeks prior, it needed a new caretaker. Beatrice was chosen because, at thirteen years old, she was older than her sister, Hannah. Her father was gone, and no clock could distract Beatrice from her grief. But even though she knew it couldn’t be done, she tried to distract herself. She did so by watching the pendulum of the clock swim back and forth infinitely. Forever. After a long while of that, Beatrice headed downstairs to the dining room to have dinner with Hannah. “So…what’s it like being the caretaker?” Hannah asked, a hint of jealousy in her voice. “Boring, to be honest. All I did today was dust it, and watch the pendulum swing. It’s very hypnotic” Beatrice answered as she sat down at the dinner table. “Well then, I suppose it won’t be difficult for you. I would think that the weight of the responsibility would be enough to make you crumble. You’re in charge of time itself, after all.” Hannah said as she sat down on the chair across from Beatrice. “Enough to make me crumble? What do you mean by that? Are you suggesting I might give my position up to you if I become too flustered with it? If you mean that, you’re mistaken.” Beatrice accused, glaring at her sister. “It’s not fair that you get this honor just because you were born first! Being the oldest doesn’t make you more mature, but what it does do is make you full of yourself. I’m sick of it!” Hanna objected, also glaring. “I’m not full of myself! Also, it's not me you should be upset with. I didn’t choose to do this.” “Well, what’s to be done about the anger I feel towards our father? Yes, it was him who said in his will that his oldest daughter should do it, but there’s no sense in being upset with him when he’s gone.” “You’re so stubborn, Hannah” “I’m stubborn because I know what I want! And I'm sick of being treated like nothing!” Hannah abruptly left the table and stomped up to her bedroom on the second floor of the manor. “Hannah, wait! I'm sorry….” Beatrice shouted up the stairs, desperate to make things right. She had already lost her father, so this was the worst time for her relationship with Hannah to decline. But after staring at the darkened stairs for a few moments, she sighed and returned to the room with the grandfather clock. She walked right past it and plopped down on the window seat. She turned away from the clock to face the window. Outside was the manor garden and the edge of the forest was beyond that. It was late November and all of the trees had lost their leaves, which caused a layer of red, orange, and yellow to blanket the ground. The first snow was surely on its way. But Beatrice had other ideas. She slid off the cushioned window seat and laid the clock on the ground so the back was facing up. She removed the wooden panel on the back to reveal a maze of gears, all turning around and around, forcing time to keep moving forward. She thought back to everything. Father’s death, Hannah’s anger, and her new responsibility. She wanted it all to stop. She wanted to take a pause to move past it all. So, with trembling fingers, she carefully lifted a gear from the system. All The gears stopped turning. Beatrice had stopped time. (continued in notes and credits)
(continued) It was always day, never night. It was always late autumn, no other season. It was always the same day and the same time. Forever. Gradually, Beatrice moved on from the death of her father. She repaired her relationship with Hannah, and all was well. But Beatrice did not start time again. As much as she wanted to continue living, she also didn’t want to leave this eternal loop. There was something about stopping time that was so perfect. It was entrancing how things never changed. Beatrice was not ready for more change. Things had changed after her father had died, and they had changed again when she made the clock of time stop going. She didn’t want more. So she kept it the same. An eternal November day. She intended to keep it the same forever, but that was not meant to be. You see, the clock of the world holds the spirit of its previous owner. And Beatrice's Dad was not happy with his daughter’s choice. So one day, a photograph appeared at the foot of the clock. Beatrice picked it up, furrowing her eyebrow. It was of one day, many years before the clock stopped. In it, Beatrice and Hannah were small children playing in the snow with their father on a cold December afternoon. They were building a snowman. Beatrice stared at the photograph, and then back at the clock. Longing for those better times, she laid down the clock again with the back facing up. She then ran up to her bedroom, opened a large wooden chest at the foot of her bed, and began sifting through the items. When she dug to the very bottom, she found what she was looking for. It was a small gear wrapped in an old cloth. It was the gear she had taken from the clock. She hurried back downstairs, clutching the gear to her chest. She opened the back of the clock and carefully lowered the gear back into its place. Immediately, the gears all whirred to life, turning with all their former glory. Beatrice put the wooden panel back on and stood it back up. But she didn’t take time to watch as the pendulum began to swing. She dashed to the front door and put on her winter cloak. She slipped outside and walked along the garden path. But as she walked, an amazing thing was happening around her. Beautiful snowflakes were floating to the ground for the first time in eternity.
