Wishing Cross Station

Chapter Six

I forced my backpack up over my shoulder again and wished I'd brought a messenger bag instead. It would blend in so much more easily. Not that I had much of a prayer of blending in the way I looked. I was going to have to see about some proper clothing, and soon.

My need for clothing and shelter meant one thing: I was going to have to sell the watch.

I still had some cash on me from home, worthless here. Trying to introduce it into the timeline could do...who knew what.

I stopped walking a moment and sat down on one of the benches at the station. I pulled the silver watch I thought of as antique out of the inner pocket of my pack and contemplated it. "I'm so sorry, Grandfather. I wish I didn't have to do this."

I looked across the street from the station, past the horse-drawn carriages and small groups of townspeople milling around, and there I saw the jewelry store.

I sighed as I headed toward it, hating what I had to do.

A small bell sounded almost imperceptibly as I entered.

"Good day!" A man exclaimed in greeting. He sat at a small workbench behind the counter to the right and appeared to be working on a clock. Drawings of elaborate watch works and timepieces surrounded him. "How can I help you?"

"Good day, sir," I said, "I was wondering if you might be interested in a pocket watch I want to sell."

"Hmm. Well, Christmas is coming, might be good to have it in inventory." He looked me over curiously. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"No, just passing through. But I find I am going to be here a while, and I'm without local currency. I need to obtain some, and this is the only thing of value I have with me."

"Let me have a look, if you don't mind?"

I held the watch out, and he analyzed it closely. He had a loupe in hand already, so he focused in with one eye upon the case, examining the front and back. He popped it open both ways and looked at the gears. "You've got the key?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry, I forgot." I reached into my pack and pulled out the key, hanging from a small string so I'd be less likely to lose it.

I hadn't ever wanted to lose the watch my Grandfather had so cherished. I looked skyward for a moment and asked him silently once more to forgive me.

"Awfully special to you, isn't it?" The man was wise.

"Awfully."

"Well, you know, I'd be happy to pawn it for you. Give you some money to get by on. Then in a few weeks, you can pay me back."

"How much will you give me if I pawn it?"

"Let's see..." He marveled at the movement and the condition of the piece. "This is a lovely, lovely watch. Silver..." He weighed it, and then looked it over again. "I can't give you what you paid for it, of course. If you don't repay me, I have to make something. You understand."

"I understand."

He looked at me, considering. He seemed a thoughtful man, the kind who didn't want to take advantage of a stranger though he certainly was in a position to do so. "I'll give you thirty-eight dollars to pawn it. You pay me back the money within thirty days, plus five percent interest, and you get your watch back. Otherwise it's mine to sell as I see fit."

"You have a deal, sir. Thank you." I really hoped I could get a job that would earn me enough to come back for it before I left. Besides, the consequences of possibly leaving it in this time, wherever and whenever it really was, concerned me. If the book could be an 'anchor' or 'doorstop' to the wormhole on the 2015 side of things, what could something left behind by someone from 2015 do?

I consoled myself by remembering the watch was originally from 1875, so it wasn't out of place here, not really. It had just come along with someone who most certainly was.

"Very good. If you'll just sign my book, here." He pulled a large ledger out from a shelf behind him and began writing in it. He recorded information about the watch, then pointed to an empty line. "Your name, the date, and where I might find you in town if I need to contact you at all concerning the watch before the date on the pawn agreement expires."

The date... I struggled to recall what the board at the train station had said. Finally, I remembered and wrote December 1, 1880.

"Location in town..." I shifted uneasily. "Well, it depends. Who in town has a room to rent? You see, I'm looking for a place to stay for a while...and a temporary job."

He thought a moment. "I have a room for rent above the store, here in my apartment, but it's going to cost you six dollars a month." He hurried to add, "Payable up front, but by the week, if it helps you."

"It would help, thank you again." I did some quick calculating.

I'd have to save as much money as I could if I had any hope of combining it with a paltry income and still getting the watch back without starving in the meantime.

"Then again..." He sighed, as if hating to tell me but feeling he should. "If you talk to Mr. Wilson over at the General Store, he might be hiring extra postal delivery workers, seeing as it'll be Christmas soon. There will be a lot more packages coming into town than he's used to handling. If you can deliver them, he may rent you his spare room for a little less."

"Would you trust me to come right back and tell you if I got the job? I'll either be living there, or I'll be back to talk to you about renting your room. Either way you'll know how to find me."

He pondered this for a moment as I nodded toward the watch and continued, "You know it is worth more than you're giving me. Either way, with interest or by selling it yourself, you're going to come out ahead."

"You are smart." He shook his head and smiled at me. "I'll tell you what. You try your luck with old Wilson, and if he won't give you a job, you come back. I'll be busier than usual the next couple of weeks here at the shop. Pay would be less, but maybe we can work something out."

I sighed with relief. I thought I could get used to how kind some of the people seemed to be in this particular time and location. I reached out to shake his hand. "Thank you, sir. I'm grateful to you."

"Name's William," the man replied, shaking firmly. "William Best. But everyone just calls me Best, or, 'the jeweler' around here."

"I appreciate your kindness, Mr. Best. I will let you know what happens soon, one way or another."

"Thank you. I worry about strangers in town, on their own. You, especially being so young..." He paused. "You...came in on the special, didn't you?"

I was about to ask how he knew but with my clothing, it was obvious I was from out of town. Out of my time? Definitely out of place.

"I did."

"Thought so. You just be careful, okay? Not everyone around here is as open minded about the idea of visitors from the special as I am."

"You mean there have been others?"

He hesitated a moment before answering. "Not for a long, long time."

I waited as he moved toward a small safe, diverting my eyes respectfully as he worked the lock. I took the money he offered, and shook his hand again.

"Remember, watch out of pawn and paid back with interest before New Year's Day or it belongs to me."

"Understood. Thank you, sir."

He waved me toward the exit. "Hurry now, you've got work to do."

Indeed, I did.

Then he called me back. "Wait. What's your name, son? I can't make out the signature on the ledger."

"Keigan," I said, wishing for the moment I had a more common name. "Keigan Wainwright."

"Well good luck, Mr. Wainwright. Keep me posted as to how you're doing, mind? I...I'll worry about you."

I nodded and bowed my head slightly before exiting his shop.