Patricia Clarkson

Chapter 1

The Clock

“Ouch! What was that?” he gasped as his body jolted forward. Balanced on one leg, he looked down to see what was there, but it was too dark. He hobbled across to his bedside table and switched on the lamp. Then he saw it.

“Oh! No! Not again!” he sighed.

But he had it coming. Knowing how dangerously he slept, he should have taken his Mum’s advice to leave the clock on the dresser and not his bedside table seriously. Now he’d have to pay for a new one. He went silent for a while and listened out for her. He hoped she hadn’t heard the noise in his bedroom. But then there was a gentle tap on his bedroom door. It was his Mum.

“Is everything okay in there?” she called. “What was that noise?”

“I’m okay, Mum,” answered Joel quickly. “I’m just getting ready for school.”

Fortunately, he hadn’t sustained any cuts or bruises from stepping on the broken bits. But sadly, his alarm clock wasn’t so lucky. Joel picked up the pieces from the floor. He wrapped them up in a paper bag and shoved the bag in the back of his wardrobe. He was already thinking of ways to replace his broken clock before his Mum found out.

There was no point asking her for a new one. She would go ballistic if she found out it had broken. A hundred euros was a lot of money for an alarm clock, but they said it was durable. It was his fourth clock, broken in a month, and most likely his last if his Mum found out about it.

His need to keep track of time was paramount now that he was in secondary school. Most of all, he had to avoid being sent to room 101.

The boys in his class had described Room 101 as a scary place. But Mrs Gammon never cared. She had a reputation for detaining pupils who came to school late. The thought of room 101 sent chills down his spine. He must get a clock soon or prepare to encounter room 101.

“Hurry up, Joel!” called Mum a little later. “It’s seven thirty; breakfast is ready.”

“I’m coming, Mum!” he said. Then, it dawned on him.

“Seven thirty, oh no, Bobby!” he gasped, realising he had missed his morning walk with two-year-old German Shepherd, Bobby, at seven.

Bobby was waiting outside Joel’s bedroom door when he came out.

“I bet you’ve been here since seven o’clock, huh! Bobby?” said Joel, patting the dog’s head. Bobby stared at him, barked, then launched onto Joel and licked his chin. He was excited and wagged his tail.

“No, Bobby, sorry, no walk this morning,” said Joel, stroking Bobby’s back as he gently put the dog back on the ground.

“I’ll be late for school, and I need to have breakfast. We’ll go another time, but not today, okay, Bobby.”

Bobby was well-trained and understanding. He whimpered a bit, then followed Joel quietly into the kitchen.

Colony Grammar School was just ten minutes away from his house. His Mum’s car pulled up outside the gates at eight forty-five precisely.

“I’ll be back around seven-thirty tomorrow evening,” said Mum. “So, Granddad will pick you up after school today and tomorrow.”

His Mum was starting a new job and going out of town for two days of induction training.  

“Okay,  Mum!” said Joel. “Bye, Mum! Bye, Bobby!”

Bobby barked. He put his paw out the car window in the back seat. Joel patted Bobby’s head and waved goodbye as the car pulled away.

Bobby was to stay with the dog sitter while his Mum was away. The last time Granddad and Grandma had him, he ruined their new leather chair. He chewed the armrest to its bare wood, and they had to replace it. Granddad wasn’t too pleased about paying extra insurance costs, either.

A car pulled up beside Joel, and a hand stuck out the window, waving at him to stop. It was Darren. Darren was his best friend since nursery. They were two peas in a pod, his teacher once said.  

“Hey!” said Darren, panting heavily, as he walked up to him. “Wait up!”

“Hey!” said Joel. His eyes caught Darren’s car as it pulled away. “Got a new car?”

“Nope!” said Darren. “Rental—Mum’s car got knocked off the road outside the house. Luckily, no one was in it, or it would’ve been fatal. It’s in the garage for a few days.”

“Oh! … Hey! You won’t guess what happened again …” Joel began.

“You broke your clock again, right?” said Darren.

“But how did you know that? I hadn’t even finished my sentence!”

“I’ve told you a million times before; I have powers. I can tell what people are about to say and their thoughts. All I need to do is focus on them, and I’m in their heads.”

“Yeah, right! So tell me what Lauren is thinking?” said Joel, watching Lauren as she walked ahead. He secretly had a soft spot for her and hoped Darren would pick up some vibes about her liking him. “Go on then, zoom in on her thoughts right now, if you can?”

“I could!” said Darren cheekily as he slowly edged forward, ready to run. “But you wouldn’t like what I’d have to say.” Then he took to his heels and charged off into the school building.

“Get back here, you!” said Joel, chasing after Darren, who ran off ahead of him, laughing. “Just wait till I get my hands on you, Darren Coleman …you …!”

“Quiet!” The voice of Principal Morgan screamed down the Tannoy loudspeakers as Joel turned into the corridor facing his classroom. There was a camera right in front of him. He imagined Principal Morgan must have seen him on the camera. So he started walking briskly.

“Remember, no running in this building,” said Principal Morgan.

His classroom was in the main building, two doors from the Principal’s Office. Year1-A had the youngest of all the first-year pupils in the school. He was eleven, but most of the pupils in his class were between twelve and thirteen years old. Except for Barry Barlow and Kingfisher King, they were fourteen and repeating the year anyway.

It was noisy as usual when he walked into his classroom. Monday mornings were the worst mornings in school because everyone had done something over the weekend that was worth sharing. Joel was relieved he was early this time.

“Quiet, please,” said Mrs Gammon, walking into the room. In an instant, the room became deadly silent. But not for long!

“We have a …” Mrs Gammon frowned, her eyes fixed on them like an angry tiger ready to pounce on its prey. Her voice was sharp as a razor.

“Barry Barlow! Kingfisher King! Stop talking, and you — sit.” Her bony finger wagged at Barry standing by his desk talking to  Kingfisher.

Barry’s face turned red with embarrassment. He slowly pulled out his chair and sat  down. Kingfisher, who was already seated, had a goofy grin, elbows on the desk, and his head leaned forward with his chin resting on the knuckles of folded fists.

“Sit up straight – Kingfisher!” she belted out. “You’re in class, not a fish market. No slouching!”

King, as they called him, was not taking too kindly to Mrs Gammon’s attacks. But Mrs Gammon carried on without a care.  

“As I was saying,” she continued. “We, Mr Sole, and I have a surprise for you.”

A wide smile slashed across Mrs Gammon’s face. Joel couldn’t believe that she was smiling at him. Well, not just him, but the rest of the class too.

“That’s right,” said Mr Sole, walking over to Mrs Gammon in the front of the classroom.

“He wasn’t here a minute ago,” thought Joel as Mr Sole strode in. “He must have come in quietly.”

Joel stared at Mr Sole’s tight, worn-out, dusty grey pinstripe suit. He looked ridiculous in it. His sleeves receded to show off a good chunk of his forearms, and his hugging, slim-fit trousers were halfway up his shin. And to top it all, he wore meadow green woolly socks, a pastel pink shirt and a bottle-green skinny neck tie. His shoes, a pair of creased, brown leather shoes nicely polished, had seen better days, and they squeaked as he walked. It was like he’d stepped out of a time warp.

As it happened, Joel was not the only one intrigued by Mr Sole’s choice of clothes. So was Kingfisher, but unfortunately, King expressed his thoughts with a loud laugh that rang through the classroom and, of course, got the attention of Mrs Gammon.

“Kingfisher! Do you have something to share with the class, or did I say something funny?” She scolded.

“No, Miss!” blotted Kingfisher. “Sorry, Miss.”

“And you should be!” said Mrs Gammon fiercely, and then she nodded to Mr Sole to continue to speak to the class.

“You had good grades in your ancient clocks and time test last week,” said Mr Sole. “So today we are going to the Time Museum.”

It  was a good time for the class to be noisy and scream with excitement. But it was not primary school, and the pupils behaved maturely. Joel grinned. Some boys threw a half-punch gesture in the air. Others sounded a long “Yes!” under their breaths to express their excitement for the proposed adventure, which was to take them away from the classroom, something they all needed.

Joel thought he might not need to wait until after school to get his new alarm clock. He could look for one in the gift shop at the museum instead. It was a good idea, and he couldn’t wait to see it through.

…

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