Trembling With Fear 08/22/21

The Timekeeper by G.A. Miller

Paul Mattingly moved through his home like a shadow, the lights all out and the ticking of the clock in the kitchen the only sound at all. He looked through the sheer curtains again, careful not to move them at all, knowing that motion would be visible to someone watching.

His forehead was beaded with perspiration, despite the cool temperature in the house.

He’d been following the story in the news, the sensational headlines proclaiming that a serial killer had made his way to their area, identifying him by name and displaying a very familiar looking artist’s sketch of his appearance. 

He’d called the sheriff who had involved the feds, and agreed to testify against Julian Deveraux in exchange for witness protection and a new life. They’d agreed to send a marshal to pick him up, but it would take a while to arrive at his remote address. This was the worst part, waiting for the marshal to arrive and hoping that Deveraux hadn’t learned where or even who he was.

Paul was exhausted, having been up for two full days now, so he fetched a hardback chair from the dining room to sit and wait in. He knew he’d be out in seconds on his sofa. The duffel bag containing the few things he deemed essential sat beside his sandals, next to the door, ready to go, his bare feet tapping anxiously in anticipation.

The memories flooded back again, as clear as the dark door he stared at. How he’d opened that restaurant door and walked to the vacant hostess desk, glancing into the busy room and seeing Julian Deveraux pulling a woman’s hair back to expose her neck just as he drew a glittering straight razor across her throat. Her blood fountained out onto the table as Deveraux looked up, his eyes burning into Paul’s face for a moment before Paul yanked the door open and ran back outside.

Deveraux ran out just a moment later, looking up and down the street, the razor in his hand dripping the woman’s blood onto the cold sidewalk. Sirens broke the calm of the evening then, and he trotted into the parking lot. Paul heard a car door close, then an engine start, the car easing out and merging into traffic seconds later, not attracting any undue attention. Paul waited until he was satisfied that the car had to be well out of sight before he emerged from beneath the trash bags he’d pulled over himself when he’d curled up on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. 

He brushed himself off and walked around the corner, just another passerby looking into the shop windows on the boulevard when the cruiser arrived, turning the corner at high speed before stopping in front of the restaurant. As the two policemen ran into the restaurant with hands on the butts of their guns, Paul jogged down the stairs to the subway station, anxious to be on the next train to anywhere else.

While the memory played on in his mind, Paul’s head began to tip forward and drop down, his eyes closing in spite of the uncomfortable chair he’d selected.

A moment later, he was looking up at a high concrete dome, thick beams of exotic wood lining the curved ceiling. In the center of the circular room, two thick beams came down from ceiling to stone floor, supporting the largest hourglass he’d ever seen between them. 

The frame of the glass seemed to be made of the same wood, the flamed grain prominent even by the flickering light cast from torches mounted in sconces on the walls. The torches were the only source of light; the room having no windows that Paul could see. The hourglass itself was flawless, highly polished… and empty. There was no sand within the glass.

As he puzzled over the missing sand, Paul noticed a still figure in a large chair sitting in shadow behind the hourglass. He stood up and walked around the glass, seeing an old man with a long white beard, wearing a black robe over bare feet, calmly gazing into the glass.

“H… hello?” Paul’s voice trembled, echoing naturally in the domed chamber.

“Welcome,” the old man replied in a relaxed, conversational tone. “It has been a very long time since I’ve had a visitor here.”

“Where exactly is here? Where am I?”

“This is the Annex. I am Narmal, the Timekeeper,” the old man bowed slightly, standing as he spoke.

“But, shouldn’t there be sand in that?” Paul asked, pointing to the huge hourglass.

“Oh, there is sand in it. You cannot see it because it is your sand, but it is there, I assure you.”

“My sand? What does that even mean?” Paul asked, intrigued but confused. The old man nodded, clearly familiar with this sort of curiosity. He walked slowly around the side of the frame as he began explaining.

“Mankind has never truly understood time. They assign arbitrary numbers to it, to represent it in a manner that suits them, they use it to designate the days, the seasons… but it is so much more than they see. Time is the singular constant of the elements, never changing as the air and the fire do, always moving at the exact same pace, unlike the water. It amuses me when mankind speaks with such authority of past, present and future, because there actually is no present. By the time the word leaves their lips, it is already in their past, is it not?”

“I guess so… but why can’t I see my own sand?”

“To see one’s own time would reveal the precise span one has to call their own, which always has been, and always will remain a mystery. This is for your own good, you see, for to dwell on the inevitable as it approaches ever closer would overshadow what else might be accomplished if that concern weren’t so dominant.”

Paul was silent, the old man’s calm voice soothing, making perfect sense. He felt as if he’d somehow ascended to a higher plane, a place where the concerns he’d felt all his life were rendered meaningless by comparison. 

He noticed the old man smiling at him.

“Ah, it appears that understanding is occurring, is it not? That is good, it’s very rare for a mortal to have so open a mind to these concepts. A welcome change, I can assure you.”

“I’m just taking it all in, but what you said makes perfect sense. I’ve never thought of it that way before, that’s all.”

“The mind has an extraordinary capacity once you allow it to open to new ideas and concepts. Most mortals seem to fear a loss of control if they put aside their preconceptions, which makes those who do, such as yourself, very rare indeed.”

“You keep using the word ‘mortal’. Aren’t you…?”

“I was once, a very long time ago as you measure time, before I came upon the Annex and became the Timekeeper. That transition changes things.”

“I have to admit, I’m fascinated by all this. I think…” 

A loud banging sound interrupted him, Narmal looking over Paul’s shoulder at the source of the noise somewhere behind him.

Paul’s head snapped upright. He shook himself awake, having dozed off in his chair after all. He looked up at his door, where car headlights from his driveway cast a clear silhouette of a uniformed man knocking on the frame surrounding the opaque glass.

“Oh, thank God! He’s here!” Paul said as he got up and padded to the door in his bare feet. As he turned the bolt to unlock the door, he felt something gritty under his foot. How’d I get sand in here? he wondered as he turned the knob and pulled the door open.

“Hiya marshal, just let me gr…”

Paul never got to finish that sentence, the loud report of the gun launching its lethal payload into his forehead, through his brain, then out the back of his head, finally lodging in one of the stair risers behind him as his body dropped to the tiled floor.

Julian Deveraux smiled and tipped the brim of the uniform hat he wore as he turned and strolled back to his car, calmly backing down the driveway and into the road.

As Deveraux drove off into the night, Parone, formerly known as Paul Mattingly, rose up off the great chair and walked purposefully to the hourglass in the center of the Annex. He softly recited the words carved into the beam as he turned the great wheel on the frame and the hourglass rotated end for end, the first grains of pure white sand continuing their endless journey through the narrow throat of the glass to fall from the top to the bottom.

The new Timekeeper nodded sagely and returned to the great chair to begin his watch.