The Way to Truth

Chapter 3-The Special place

Time passed surprisingly quickly.

The first week of school went by pretty smoothly....I used to be finishing the truckloads of homework while Nathan just sat there like a five-year old kid, staring at everyone and everything. All he said in the entire first week was 'interesting'. Insane, right? He did not know how to socialize, he would ask me the name of every single wristwatch any random passerby was wearing and why our homeroom teacher repulsed all of our attention to her lessons. The list of his strange antics could fill up thousands of pages. I even had to remind him how to use a fork at the cafeteria. I know it isn't right to judge others, but Nathan was quite creepy. What should I do about him? All of that confidence on the first day of school had dissipated; now he just sat there like an empty husk, waiting for me to tell him how to use a pencil. Troubled childhood? Psychological issues? Sometimes, his mannerisms did not even seem to belong to anyone from this planet. His violent mood swings would be explainable since he is a teenager, but it still did not justify how he switches from a 21st century teenage boy into a 19th century Victorian gentlemen. It is a bit, or rather extremely annoying, but I'm not a mean girl so I'll bear it out a bit longer. Its not as if I would want to copy those overdone, vomit-inducing girls. Raina still interfered, angling to snatch away my new found company, and the thought of her annoyance makes my heart light up with pure glee.

Thursday_
My eyes continuously rebound between the clock and Mrs Sindel's half asleep expression as she continued narrating Act 3, scene 1 of 'The Merchant of Venice'. My hate for slow-moving Thursdays was beyond words. 'Five minutes till twelve,' my mind comforted me with reassuring words, that soon, this bore of a period would end. I mean, the Merchant of Venice is such a simple play, one of Shakespeare's easiest, yet everyone in class asks so many questions. Each time someone raised their hand, the urge of pulling out my hair in frustration grows; it took Mrs Sindel  hours to answer each question brought forward. First, she makes the person repeat the question as many times needed for it to get through her hearing aid, then she'll flick through the book, page by page searching for an answer she obviously does not know. It was often the backbencher boys who bullied the nerds of our class into supplying her with questions, just so that they could enjoy forty five minutes of sleeping time.
TRIIIIIIIIINGGG!!!
The bell for break rang furiously, causing an instantaneous migration of teachers and students from the dull atmosphere of the melancholy classrooms into the open yard, desperate for fresh air. I too packed my bag in an instant turning towards the door, and looked at Nathan who, for the first time had seen something that caught his attention. Following his gaze towards the highest point of the wall, I noticed that he was staring at our class clock with great interest.

He just stared at the dusty clock on the wall, mesmerised by its... well....'vintage extravagance'. It was nothing as special as what he described it to be; just another made in China, plastic framed analogue clock with a rusty dial, yet he just couldn't turn his attention away from it. "Sesame, this clock is....beautiful," he muttered in a half-whisper,"It has such a simple colour scheme and ordinary design, yet the red seconds' hand continued to tick on busily, swirling to the rhythm of time."
My new friend was giving me a spiritual lecture on a clock. Yes, highly unbelievable but undeniably true. In turn I also looked up towards the sullen clock, and to my surprise, it was the first time I had seen it have a red ticking hand. Were my eyes playing tricks on me? I had examined this classroom so many times out of utter boredom, but how is it that I've never noticed that the clock had a red minute hand? "I think I'll name him Jeff. Yes, Jeff is the ideal name for him," he slowly whispered, still holding his gaze. "Uh that's a l-lovely name Nathan. I think we should let the clo- I mean Jeff rest. Come, its break," I said in a tone as even as I could possibly manage as I led him out of the room towards the yard.
Now that I think about it, Jeff is a nice name for the clock. A normal person would declare Nathan was absolutely bonkers, but how is it that what he said actually made sense to me? How can I judge him if I agree with his views on naming a clock!?