The Clock Shop (ORIGINAL VERSION)

9

I was still very curious about what was in the left tunnel, even after a long night of pondering about what might be down it. I wasn't sure if I should go down it or not. I decided to try to ask Mr. Clifton about Amanda Murray, her letter, and the tunnels.

     It was Friday, so I had to ask him that day, or else I would've been stuck with so many questions until Monday, which was too many days away.

     I went into the shop a little earlier than I had been, and it felt the same as it had every other day; like that tunnel behind that pendulum clock was never there. Mr. Clifton wasn't at his desk though, he was looking at one of the clocks near the front of the store.

     "Oh! You're here early, Hannah," he said as I walked through the door.

     "Hey, Mr. Clifton," I wasn't sure how I should ask about what I had seen over the past few days in his shop.

     "What brings you here this early?"

     "I wanted to talk to you about something."

     He stopped what he was doing, "Do you want to buy a clock now?"

     "I wanted to talk to you about some things I found in the shop," I felt awkward and crazy.

     "What did you find?"

     I pointed towards the grandfather clock at the back of the store, "I found the letter that was placed behind there."

     "Oh, well I assure you that it's nothing to worry about," he started to walk away towards another part of the store.

     "Who's Amanda Murray?" I said, hoping it would bring him back to the conversation that I wanted to have.

     "Oh, you read the letter," I could tell he wasn't very happy, and I don't blame him. I did invade his personal space, I got into his things when I shouldn't have.

     "I suppose curiosity gets the best of us sometimes," Mr. Clifton said after a long pause of silence. "Amanda Murray is my niece, my sister's daughter."

     "Oh," I guess I hadn't thought of her being a relative of his because they both have different last names.

     Now, since I figured out Amanda Murray is a family member of his, I thought maybe I could finally get to the bottom of what she saw. Mr. Clifton has to still be in contact with his niece, right?

     I wanted to send Amanda a letter and ask her what she saw, that was all I could think of and care about.

     I hadn't thought about something, and that was Mr. Clifton probably knows what she saw. He is the owner of the store, maybe he's seen it too. I felt dumb for not thinking this before. "Do you know what she saw? Have you seen it?"

     "No, I don't know what she saw and I haven't seen it, whatever 'it' is."

     "You don't know about the tunnels?" There is no way he doesn't know about this. Does he just think I don't?

     "So you know about the tunnels? That changes some- things."

     "As you said, curiosity gets the best of us sometimes, and that's what happened with me," I felt like I was getting closer to the answer.

     "Did you go down them?" He said this in a concerned voice. "You shouldn't go down them, it's perilous. I'm lucky Amanda made it out alive."

     "That's what I'm confused about!"

     "What do you mean?"

     I was still confused, had he not been in the tunnels? What I saw wasn't dangerous, and it didn't almost kill me. "Have you never been down the tunnels before?"

     "No, of course not. I was always too scared to go down them. Now I'm too old."

     "I wasn't in danger," I reassured him, "I went down the right path! I saw something amazing."

     "What did you see?"

***

We locked up the shop for the night so we could discuss what I'd seen and maybe what Amanda had seen. I still wanted to figure that out.

     I explained everything. I started by explaining the two different paths to choose from, that I chose the right path, and how I began to feel safe and stress-free.

     I told him everything I saw down the right tunnel. The waterfall, the mountains, the fields of flowers, the fireflies, the forest, and my house.

     Then, I told him my idea: "I think the left path might be the one that Amanda went down, maybe it was the opposite."

     "That's possible," he paused for a moment. "But, as I said, I have no idea what she saw. She never told me more about it, everything that was in the letter was what she said."

     "Are you able to get in contact with her? When was the last time you saw her?" I felt bad for asking so many questions, but they were essential to me. Since he hadn't seen it himself, and so far, Amanda and I are the only ones that know what's down there.

     We know the two different sides. We could share our stories and get the tunnel to be investigated further.

     "I can, I see her usually every year during the holidays."

     "Do you think I could write her a letter and ask?"

     "I don't know if she would want to talk about it, but you could try," he grabbed a notepad and pen from the desk, "let me find her address and write it for you."

     He sounded unsure, and I get that she might not want to talk about what she'd seen, but it was worth a shot.

     I smiled as he handed me the ripped-off piece of paper with Amanda's address on it. "Thank you so much, Mr. Clifton. I will be sure to let you know when I hear from her."

     "You're welcome, it is my shop in the first place, so I guess I'm obligated to tell you about the mysteries and what goes on here."

     "I'll be sure to mention you in the letter, and how your shop is doing," I smiled. I wanted to make him feel included in the letter to his niece. I didn't know what their relationship was like or if they even talked at family gatherings during the holidays.

     It was past the time he usually leaves, "I'll see you next week," he said as he started to make his way to the door.

     It was only 6 pm, so we opened the shop back up for the night. We didn't get a single customer during the rest of that evening.

***

That night, I started to write a letter to Amanda Murray. I had a big question: 'What did you see?' That's what needed to be answered.

     I sat on my couch in the living room, turned on some thinking music, and began to write my letter to her. I was hopeful for the future and excited about her response.