The Clock Winked (The Sagittan Chronicles Book 2) (27 page)

So he wrote that article, but he also wrote a book, and
instead of writing it about the gangs, he wrote it about the missing girl who
had leaped from the ladder and disappeared during that ever so strange and
eerie night at the Jameson Musk Estate.

He remembered that Quin had leaped up next to the wall of
the room and caught the edge of the Clock with his fingers. He maneuvered his
leg over the top and pulled himself up, standing menacingly with his black skin
glowing in the eerie light, looking out at a crowd of people who stood gazing
and open mouthed at the Clock.

He remembered that Simon spoke, and he remembered the things
that Simon said; and, he remembered the silence that fell over the crowd as the
words slipped into the morning sun.

He remembered that Butler had fired his gun at the floating
figure in the light; and then Quin had knocked him off the Clock and he had
landed in the arms of his brother. At some point, a flight of stairs had
appeared inside the Clock and John, Auvek, Teira, and Jirin carrying Rathead
were able to walk up and out into the morning light. He remembered that when
the police had appeared, quite like magic, nearly all of the gang members
disappeared without a trace, leaving behind only a large mess and a lot of
bullets. Only Jirin and Teira remained, and of course the unconscious Rathead.
John and Quin also disappeared, leaving Salve, Auvek, and Aunt Llewellyn to
tell a garbled story of how they had escaped from the mad Butler with a gun,
who had poisoned Jameson Musk and Chair Aderick.

Butler was taken away in handcuffs to jail, babbling about a
flying monkey and winking clock; and Lebron, his brother, who also rambled
about flying monkeys and giant clocks, was taken to an asylum.

Salve also learned that later that morning, when Auvek had
arrived home, he found Simon sitting patiently in
William Oliphant,
booksellers
, carefully rebinding books with torn pages.

Salve scribed each memory carefully and patiently into his
book, one word after another—the pain, the fight, the fear, the struggle—and he
printed them so they were all bound together into one, small, black book.

*****

Three weeks later the new bell—a silver one instead of gold—dinged
as Salve stepped into
William Oliphant, booksellers.
In his hand he held
a book—the book.

“This is for you, Auvek,” he said. He held out his hand. The
book had no picture on the cover, and no title. It was bound simply in black
leather. “I want you to put it in your secret library.”

Auvek opened it to the title page. It read “The Clock
Winked: A Story of a Young Girl Besieged
By A War Of
Many Generations,” by Sauvignon Pincer.

“You wrote it all down?” he asked.

“Yes. I don’t know what to do with it, but I thought the
secret library would be the most fitting home. I had it printed, just a couple
copies, because I doubt anyone would believe me.”

“Thank you, Salve,” Auvek said. He carefully placed the book
on the counter. “I’m flattered. I will take ultimate care of this book, don’t
worry.”

“I’m not worried,” Salve shrugged and gave a sad smile. “I
have other things to write.”

“Like what?” Auvek tilted his head.

“John hired me to write the cover-up story.
Something about Jameson having an illegal menagerie in his backyard
and a bunch of lions and monkeys escaping.”
Salve shrugged and grinned.
“It’ll be a great political scandal.”

“Is Bronwyn back yet?” Auvek asked.

A sad smile appeared on Salve’s face. “I haven’t seen her.
I’ll let you know if I do.”

“Okay,” Auvek said, as Salve turned to leave. “I have
something for her. Tell her, if you see her.”

“Thanks, Auvek, I will,” Salve said, and the new, silver
bell dinged behind him.

Auvek opened the book again to the first page. It read “For
me, it began with a quick cup of coffee in a coffee shop. I paid and she told
me that everything she said had to be kept a secret. Tell me this, dear
reader,
what sort of journalist keeps secrets? I’ll tell
you: a journalist in love.”

“In love?” he muttered.
“Hm.”

He then flipped to the very last page, the very last
sentence and read: “And with that she leaped from the ladder into the embrace
of the winds. They carried her home and she was never seen again.”

The book ended, but the story didn’t. A few days later,
Simon sat on the sidewalk staring up at Salve with wide black saucer eyes. “I
have a gift for you,” he said.

A pomobile pulled up next to them. Quin sat inside. Salve
climbed in the back next to Simon. They drove in silence until Quin came to a
stop at the front door of Jameson Musk’s house.

“This is for you,” Simon said, handing him a piece of paper.
Scrawled in elegant script across the top was the word “Deed.”

“What’s this?
The Deed to Musk’s house?”
Salve asked.

“Yes,” Simon replied. “It’s a gift from Bronwyn. But there
is one more thing.” He climbed out of the pomobile and began to run towards the
side of the house. Salve followed, barely noticing as Quin drove away. Simon
led him through the back yard and fence, which remained open. The large bushes
of the maze were beaten and had holes ripped through their branches. They
passed down one aisle after another until they stumbled into the opening where
the Clock lay. Simon didn’t stop. He leaped onto the Clock and began to rapidly
brachiate up the ladder.

Salve hesitated for a moment, and then followed. One rung
after another, he rose into the air. The hot sun beat down on him and he began
to sweat and breathe heavily. A few times he stopped to rest, but never
for long, as he was determined to see whatever it was that Simon wished to show
him. Finally he reached the top, where Simon sat and waited for him.

“Do exactly as I do, Salve,” Simon ordered. “And trust me.”

Salve watched in stunned amazement as Simon jumped, plunging
downwards. Suddenly, he was sucked into a Door which lay on the other side of
the ladder, six or seven rungs below the top.

Slave climbed up onto the top of the ladder and sat there,
staring at the ladder. Jumping—did he really have to? He began to climb back
down the ladder, one step at a time until he reached out with one foot and
stepped through the Door. Then, closing his eyes he kicked out the other foot
and let go.

Three weeks later Bronwyn and Salve stepped into
William
Oliphant, booksellers.
The bell dinged.

“The bell!”
Bronwyn exclaimed.
“It’s silver!”

“You’re back!” Auvek leaped over the counter to give them
both enormous hugs. “The other bell got smashed when those gang members broke
in and stole Simon.”

“Is your uncle back yet?” Salve said, looking around. The
shop was pristine, not a book or page out of place, and not a single grain of
dust visible anywhere.

“No, he got suspended for dealing blue haze immediately
after he got out on parole. He’s stuck in jail for at least thirteen years. I
can do a lot here in that time. Also, speaking of jail, Rathead and Stryker
were both tried and convicted. They got life terms. Once they were captured,
mountains of evidence began pouring out of the gutters.”

“I always wondered where they put life sentence-ees. You
never hear about escapees,” Salve said.

“I don’t know,” Auvek replied, shrugging. “So, where have
you been?”

“Home,” Bronwyn replied. “I found my parents.” A grin split
her face. “They’re wonderful. And I met my grandfather and it turns out that I have
three brothers.”

“Any of them could have been the Keeper,” Salve added, “But
Wyn here is the oldest, so they had to leave her with Aunt Llewellyn instead of
one of the boys.”

“She came in here last week with a basket of cookies and
wanted a recommendation for a new butler. Teira works there now.” Auvek
grinned. “Aunt Llewellyn said you’d be back. Make sure you stop in.”

Salve chuckled.

“Who’s Teira?” Bronwyn asked.

“Musk’s ex-bodyguard.
Or Rathead’s.
Or both.
They all
have very confusing relationships. Jirin, the other guard, works here now. He’s
got the day off though.”

“What happened to Butler?” Bronwyn questioned.

“He got a life sentence. Samson Lebron, who was apparently
using the Meteor II Space Station to spy on the Clock, was also sentenced, but
he got off easier because he’s got connections, and he pleaded insanity. Arthur
Robsfeld is the new Director of Communications on Meteor II.”

“Where’s Simon?” Bronwyn asked.

“Oh!
Of course!”
Auvek exclaimed.
“You’ll never believe what I’ve gotten done. And you came back on just the
right day! Come look!”

He led them upstairs into the book dump. It was completely
remodeled. Bookshelves were arranged in rows from floor to ceiling. In the
center of the room sat a classy-looking bar; bottles of wine and beer lined the
wall behind the long, marble-topped counter. A number of chairs and tables were
scattered over the room. Bronwyn gasped with delight. Auvek had decorated with
black and red and white with accents of green. Potted plants hung from the
ceiling.

“Oh, it’s beautiful!” she exclaimed.

“It’s going to be open at night,” Auvek said, “for book
lovers. They can come in the back door—I installed an extra door into the empty
room—right up the stairs, and voila! Beer, music, dancing, and best of all—” he
gestured to the empty bar.

“Me!” Simon popped his head up. He leaped onto the bar and
bowed, his tail flicking out behind him. He was wearing a bowtie. Salve
laughed. “Actually, the best part is—we open tonight!
Free
wine with the price of admission.
Come meet the current curator of
William
Oliphant, Bookseller
and his robot monkey.”

“It’s a library, too,” Auvek said. “So people sign up and
they can check books out for free, as long as they bring them back, of course.
And I decorated so the whole place would match Simon.”

“Auvek, this is great!” Salve said. “You’ve done a fantastic
job. What time does it open?”

That night,
William Oliphant, booksellers
glowed in the light of a new beginning
.
Quin and John showed up for the party, as did Aunt Llewellyn, of course. She
was delighted to see Salve and especially Bronwyn. Jirin and Teira tended the
bar and checked out books for the patrons, and even Misty, the graduate
student, decided to leave her textbooks in lieu of other books, if just for one
night. The entire Pomegranate City book club came as well, and got so drunk
that they began to first recite verses and then put on a highly irregular
version of a Makes Pierre play, with many mispronunciations and a lot of
laughter.

Auvek floated around the room in a chalk-striped lounge suit
and bowtie, happier than he’d ever been. He charged admission, but gave out
handshakes and smiles for free. John milled about as well, and introduced Auvek
to many affluent people from the community, who all commented on his youth and
prosperity, and complemented his fortitude and innovation. Simon poured drinks
and let himself be petted. He chatted to the guests about literature and beer,
and proved to be quite knowledgeable on both topics, as well as many others.

Once again
William Oliphant, bookseller,
was the talk
of the town and the first place anyone would go to talk about books.

POMEGRANATE

CITY STAR
WILLIAM OLIPHANT, BOOKSELLER, RETURNS WITH FLAIR

By Sauvignon Pincer, journalist

Last night at 8pm, Auvek Oliphant, current curator of the famous
William Oliphant, bookseller,
opened his doors for the first time at his new cafe and bar, called
Simon’s Books and Beer.
His beloved robotic monkey, Simon, poured drinks and cracked jokes for the customers as they swarmed the upstairs of his shop.

During the technological revolution, when so many books were being burned, William Oliphant, XXII saved thousands of volumes upstairs in his shop, which Auvek has now turned into a library. Not only are drinks available (only after 8), but community members can check out books for free. In addition, the guests were treated to an impromptu, drunken rendition of Makes Pierre’s Rita and Frank by the Pomegranate City book club. This was met with much laughter, and the book club added about thirty members.

The opening party included music by the Baritone Brothers, the Jazz Wosname, and We Done It. With the price of admission, patrons were given free wine from 8 to 9, and Auvek, dressed in a dapper suit and bowtie, strolled among the patrons spreading his smile and offering handshakes free of charge. Simon made a huge hit with adults and children of all ages.

From 8 to 11, Tuesday through Sunday,
Simon’s Books and Beer
will be open for adults, and the library will be open for children from 5 to 8.

William Oliphant,
bookseller’s
is open downstairs from 9 to 5. Bring your children, bring your spouse—there is a little something here for everyone.

Acknowledgements:
I would first and foremost like to thank my mother, Nancy Sieling, for beating me over the head with positive thinking and constructive feedback throughout the whole process. I would also like to thank my father, Peter Sieling, for being a brilliant role model and encouraging me to achieve more. My brothers, Gary and Evan, provided a great deal of assistance with my website and graphic design. In addition, my writers group offered invaluable critique and optimism. Finally, I would like to thank David.