“We will be soon sweetie, just be patient." Patricia sat next to her husband, the driver, in the passenger seat. She had been the family negotiator since the Malone family first set foot in the car.
“But I wanna be there now," Joey whined, his shrill, boyish voice ringing true to his age. Joey was 8 years old and the runt of the Malone family.
“Shut up! I'm trying to listen to music, okay? I don't even see why we have to go on this stupid trip." Sally's voice was less than whiny and edged more toward annoyance and frustration. A junior in school, Sally saw no reason she should be forced to go on "family fun" trips.
“Kids...kids, could you just...KIDS!" The car went silent; the crackling of the leaves could be heard inside the car. Their father never yelled. "We are going on this trip. Not because we hate you and want to torture you, but because there is nothing better in life than a little family time. Got it? Good. We are almost there Joey, okay? We are all going to make it out of this week alive and well." The car continued up the road in silence. Finally, it came to a halt outside of a log cabin.
“Look at that view. Now who is going to try and tell me they don't want to spend a week here? None of you, that's who." Steve let out a bellowing laugh while taking in the view to the left of the car. The driveway led into a big clearing with the lake to the left and a house on the right. The lake was surrounded by forest with just a dirt path leading down to the water front. Across the way, you could see mountains and other homes much like the one they stood in front of now. Of course, the view was somewhat obstructed by the dense fog that clung to the water’s surface. To the right of the car there stood a house, a big log cabin type home. The wrap around porch gave it a charming appearance, with two rocking chairs and a swinging bench stationed on the right portion near the railing, but the overall appearance was gloomy. The wood was stained a dark, deep, brown color and there were very few windows. When the family unloaded the car and went inside, the interior seemed just as melancholy. Due to the lack of windows there was very little natural light. This, of course, was not helped by the lack of man-made lighting in the house. There were few lights on the ceiling and only two lamps, both perched on the end tables of the dull, dark, blood red couch that was positioned in front of the longest window in the living room and right next to the door.
Immediately when they walked in they were standing in the living room facing the kitchen. The kitchen was sleek and dark. All the appliances were black and all the cup boarding was made of dark mahogany paneling. Looking from the kitchen into the living room, to the left there were two sets of stairs, one that went up to the rest of the house and one that went down into the basement. However, on the right there was a fireplace. The fireplace had a sense of grandeur, but in a very dismal way. On the mantle, there was a clock. Not to large, but not very small. The clock was simple and surrounded by dark brown wood. It was crowned with an ornate wood carving that resembled a laurel wreath.
“Well this clock must be Roman," Steve stated with a chortle.
“Why is that Daddy?" Joey asked with a smile as he tugged on his father’s sleeve. Steve instinctively pulled his son up into his arms. Joey was now tall enough to see the clock head on. He stared at the clock confused, tilting his head from side to side until finally asking, “What are the lines that are in the numbers spots?”
“Those are Roman numerals bud. The line pattern that takes up the place where a certain number should be is the pattern for that number. See the X? That’s a ten, and you see the V? That, kiddo, is five.” Joey stared at his father, then back at the clock, then back at his father again.
“Why are you so smart Daddy? When I grow up I wanna be just like you,” Joey stated matter-of-factly. A big smile spread across his face as he gave his father a hug and slid out of his arms and ran to explore the new home. Steve stood there looking at the clock, mesmerized.
“I think this week is going to go very well darling,” Patricia reassured him. He had been so taken by the clock that he had not realized her coming up behind him. She now had her arms around his stomach and her head on his shoulder. “The kids already seem to love it, and with the lake right here they can have fun and we can see them and know they’re safe. Safer than home that is.” Patricia laughed into her husband’s shoulder, and he could feel her body shake as she laughed.
“I think so too dear, I think so too.” He turned around and kissed her. “But it’s getting late and we should be getting the kids to bed, shouldn’t we? We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow, lots of family fun.” He laughed and watched his wife walk off to go get Joey ready and tell Sally it was time to call it a night. Steve turned back to the clock. What was it about this clock that possessed him? He sat on the couch perpendicular to the fireplace and stared at the mantle. Why was this clock so mesmerizing, so hypnotic?
“Aren’t you coming?” Patricia asked her husband. He sat on the couch, not phased his wife’s voice. “Sweetie, Steve dear…?”
“Oh, yes dear. I’ll come up in a few minutes. I just want to sit here for a while…long drive today.” He sat there staring at the couch. Patricia walked over tentatively and kissed her husband on the forehead.
“I love you Steve, I love you so much. I will see you in the morning, okay?” She walked away slowly from her husband. He sat there; too absorbed in the motion of the clock to say” I love you” or even “Goodnight.” The clock was just about to strike twelve when the ticking began. Not the typical ticking of a clock, but loud drumming coming from the general direction of the Roman clock. Almost as soon as the ticking began, Steve realized something peculiar. As soon as the clock struck twelve the minute hand dropped and began to move counterclockwise. Quickly, the hour hand followed and before he knew it the clock already read 7 o’clock and still continued moving. The loud drum of the clock rang on in Steve’s head until it stopped. The drumming, the backwards movement of the hands, everything just stopped. And he sat there and watched the motionless clock for what seemed like hours. He reached in his pocket to check the time on his phone, but his hands came out empty. Steve realized that he had made the family leave behind all electronic devices so as to enjoy the family bonding more. The clock ceased to move and so did Steve. Then there was darkness. Steve blacked out on the couch.
He woke up later in the night to see that the clock still read 12 o’clock. His head throbbed and he did not know whether he had dreamed it all or if the clock was correct now. Steve grasped the arm of the couch and shoved himself up with a groan. The floor boards creaked as he moved across them slowly, up the stairs, and into he and his wife’s room. He untied his shoes and put on his pajamas slowly, hesitant of waking his wife up. He pulled the blankets up over his body and sunk into the mattress, quickly drifting into a deep sleep. Soon, the sun was beating on his face from the window parallel to the left of the bed. He reached over to grab his wife’s hand, only to realize she was not there. He stretched and yawned, then rubbed his eyes before slowly moseying out of bed. He wrapped his robe around his body and slid his feet into his slippers. As he climbed down the stairs, he could hear his family laughing in the kitchen below. Feelings of love and joy spread throughout his body. “Good morning everyone! How did we all sleep?” Steve’s wife walked over and kissed him with the skillet in her hand. The smell of waffles and bacon could be smelled all over the house.
“I actually had a really nice dream Dad! You and I and Sal were out on the water and you taught me to swim and then we had a picnic with Mom and it was great!” Joey was bouncing in his seat with the joy of letting his father know the activities of his dreams.
“Sally, what about you?” her father asked kindly. “Did you have any fun dreams?”
“I’m not a child Dad. Don’t treat me like I’m five. Yes I had a dream; no I do not care to share. Is that all you wanted to know?” Sally turned from her father abruptly and resumed eating her breakfast.
“Well okay then, what about you Pat? How’d you sleep?”
“You came to bed really late last night Steve, are you okay? I was going to stay up, but I was so tired and I assumed you would be back soon…” Patricia gave him a worried look.
“I’m just dandy sweetheart, must have fallen asleep on the couch or something. I’m fine though, and ready to have some family fun.” Steve grinned as wide as he could, even though he did not know if what he said were true. He only remembered that the clock had been acting strange last night, but as he looked at it now it seemed fine. I must have been delirious, Steve thought to himself. Clocks don’t just rewind and reset. I was just dreaming, just dreaming. “So why don’t you kids just put on your suits and we all can hope on in to the water? Doesn’t that sound fun?”
“No,” Sally replied abruptly, “It actually sounds the exact opposite. But I assume I will be forced to anyways so…Come on Joey, I will help you find your swim trunks.” Sally helped Joey off of the stool and walked with him up the stairs.
“Thank you for helping your brother Sal. Your mother and I really appreciate it.” Steve turned back to his wife. “That girl is something else ya know? She can be a really good girl though most days, just not when we take her away from society.” Steve laughed and kissed his wife as he headed up the stairs to put on his trunks.
A little while later, the family gathered on the porch. They made plans to meet up in a little while for dinner since the kids and Steve had packed sandwiches for the trip on the lake. The kids kissed their mother goodbye and they headed off on the boat into the morning mist. The lake shone like polished glass and was shattered by the wake of the small power boat. In the middle of the lake, Steve stopped the boat and Sally jumped in head first and began to swim away. “Don’t swim too far Sal, I still want to be able to see you.” Steve turned to his son. “Now it’s your turn bud. Ready to learn how to swim?” Joey nodded his head eagerly, a big smile on his face. “Ok kiddo, don’t worry. Daddy isn’t gonna let anything happen to you,” Steve said as he helped his son onto the ledge of the boat. “Now this is an important skill, may come in handy later in your life, so listen up. What you’re going to do is this. Once you get in the water start moving your legs in a squid like motion and moving your arms in slow circles under the water. Try and keep your head above though. Dad will be right here if you need me.”
Joey slowly lowered himself into the water with his father’s help. He began to furiously kick his legs and circle his arms. Although he looked a wreck, his head never went below the water. “I’m doing it Dad, I’m doing it!” Joey reached for his father’s hand, now out of breath from all of the work he had put into swimming. Sally headed back towards the boat, and they all got in and cruised away off to other parts of the lake. When the sun started to set, the three headed back in to shore. On the beach, Patricia waited kindly. They all hoped off and gave her hugs, then proceeded to head back to the cabin.
Dinner was typical, chicken and mashed potatoes, and they all talked about their day. Joey ran on and on about learning to swim, and Sally went on about how she had seen some of the most photo worthy scenery in her life on the shores of the lake. Patricia talked about her day and how she had tanned and knitted on the porch. Steve sat, listening to everyone’s stories and laughing at all the silly things he loved about his family. At the conclusion of dinner, the family all went upstairs except for Steve. He sat on the couch and stared intently at the clock again. He had promised himself that he would not get caught up, but something about the decoration enticed him. Once the clock began to inch towards midnight, he began to hear the ticking. The very same drumming noise he had experienced the night before. Walk away Steve, walk away while you still can, he thought to himself. But then the movement began, and the clock began to turn backwards. The rotation of the hands abruptly changing and swooping counterclockwise as they had done the previous night. Before he realized what was happening, Steve was once more blacked out on the couch. However, this time he did not wake up. He only woke up to the sound of his wife and children’s voices as they stampeded down the stairs.
“Steve, sweetie, did you sleep down here? Oh goodness.” Patricia looked at him worriedly.
“I’m fine, I promise. I just…I must have fallen asleep that’s all.” Steve rubbed his eyes and looked up at the clock, it read 9 o’clock.
“Well Dad, I was hoping us three could go swimming again,” Sally offered, “If that’s ok with you and mom…?” Sally looked at her mother for approval. Mrs. Malone nodded her head and so Sally took Joey upstairs to go get ready for the day again. Patricia then walked over to her husband when the children were out of hearing range.
“Are you sure you are ok dear? I can drive the boat.” Steve shook his head.
“No, Pat I’m fine I swear. Just got tired and drifted off.” So by mid-day the kids and Steve were off on the lake again leaving Mrs. Malone to her private day. The day was so similar to the previous, he helped Joey swim and let Sally wander off and do what she wanted, and when the sun began to lower they all conferred back on the boat and headed to shore where they met their mother and went inside for dinner. As the night before, they ate a chicken dinner with mashed potatoes and corn, and laughed about their day. Steve laughed mechanically between sporadic glances at the clock on the mantle, the Roman clock. What was it about the clock that was so mysterious? Just as the night before, the family all headed up before Steve. He sat again and waited on the couch, and like clockwork at quarter to midnight the drumming began. Soon after, the clock began to rotate counterclockwise and he then found himself blacked out on the couch, waking up to his family’s voices coming down the stairs.
That is how his days went, what seemed like years passed by. Every day just like the last, same activities, same food, same clock. The clock began to represent the order of disorder. Although it disoriented him, it was clockwork, always constant and always the same. Steve was slowly losing it, being driven into madness by the monotony of the days. How long had they been at the house on the lake? Steve couldn’t tell, and feared if he asked he would be looked at as crazy. So the days went on, slowly mixing together until it was all just one endless day. His wife began to realize the changes in her husband and began to worry. One evening, when he seemed at his most paranoid, before she went to bed she confronted him.
“Steve, I’m worried. You’re starting to scare me and it’s not ok that the kids see you like this. What is wrong, talk to me? We are married; we should be able to talk!” She stared at him, anticipating a response.
“See the clock? That is what’s wrong. It drums, and it moves backwards. The ticking, Patricia, the ticking. Listen to the ticking.” He stared at the clock madly.
“This is what I mean Steve! What ticking? The clock is broken! It has been since the day we arrived!” Patricia stood up and backed away from her husband. “I don’t know what has gotten into you Steve, but you’re scaring me. You are really freaking me out.” She turned and ran up the stairs, locking their bedroom door as she got inside.
“They all think you’re crazy Steve. ‘Ticking, what ticking?’ I hear the ticking, Steve hears the ticking.” And the clock began to rotate, moving quickly backwards as he let out a maniacal laugh and blacked out.
The next morning he woke up to the sound of his wife’s voice and his wife’s voice alone. “I sent the kids out on the boat Steve, Sally has her boater’s license and I don’t want them out there alone with you. Not with how you’ve been acting lately.”
“But you are ok alone with me, are you?” Steve slowly climbed off the couch. His face looked emaciated from the lack of sleep over the time span at the cabin. He had black rings around his eyes and his skin seemed to droop over his skull. He slowly crept in on his wife. “Too afraid, are you Patricia? Scared of your dear husband Steve?”
Cornered into a chair, Patricia fell into the cushioning across from the fireplace. “Steve, please stop this madness. We are leaving today, I already have the kids’ bags packed and once they get back tonight we head home. Calm down…I’m begging you.” Tears began to stream down Patricia’s face as she realized why her husband had been searching the room and now was walking towards her with a rope they used for waterskiing. She jolted up out of her chair, but Steve was too quick and grabbed her using the rope and pulled her back into the chair and began tying her up.
He began whispering in her ear, “You all think I’m crazy. Silly Steve is crazy, but he isn’t. See the clock, the Roman clock, it’s moving. Do you see it moving?” He tied the rope tighter and tighter around his wife’s body.
“I see it Steve, I see it. The clock is moving Steve, I-” The wind was knocked out of her by the tugging of the rope. She began to sob as her husband walked back into the kitchen. “Why are you doing this? You love me, and you love the kids, and we are going home!” Steve came stumbling into the living room again with a box of matches. He opened the box and struck a match. “NO! No Steve, don’t do this! Stop!” He placed the first match on the back of her chair, and the second and third on her arm rests. The chair went up in flames, along with his wife’s clothing.
Steve then began to throw matches around the living room until the whole lower floor was ablaze with crimson red fire. He maniacally laughed as he resided to the couch and listened to the ticking of the clock and the screaming of his wife. “Tick tock, goes the clock, tick tock, tick tock.” His pants began to burn, leading up to his shirt until the fire surrounded him and consumed him.
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