In this desert, you'll be baked alive if you're not careful. The sun is relentless, and the sand and the wind aren't much better. Water is more valuable than gold when you're thirsty.
Hearing tales of riches and gold, thousands came seeking their fortunes. Most left penniless; some got rich, but the strong- they made it work. A watchmaker used to live here. He made the most beautiful, most accurate watches in the world, but despite being talented, the man was a jinx. My father saved him from drowning in the Colorado. He gave my father a watch to repay him. It was mine for twenty years, but I passed it to my boy Phillip.
The watchmaker had children (somehow). His granddaughter, Lila, is as cute as a bug's ear, and Phil is head over heels for her. He won't admit it, of course.
Now, a couple of weeks ago, they got themselves into a little trouble. Philip took her for a ride on his motorcycle. Don't ask me how, but they ran out of gas in the middle of nowhere. Lila must take after her grandpa. Somehow, when they were walking to town, she got herself bitten by a rattlesnake.
Phil's a sweet kid; not the best under pressure, but he made me proud. He ran for miles alongside the river, kicking up dust and burning under the sun. He started thinking about how soothing and cool the water looked, and that gave him an idea: he jumped into the river and tread water. He dodged rocks and branches, floating on his back through the coursing water.
He ran through the town into the hospital. Within five minutes a helicopter was dispatched to search for Lila. They found her face-down in the hot sand; her skin was burned and she was severely dehydrated. They might not have noticed her if Phil's pocket watch hadn't reflected the sun into the pilot's eyes.
Phil slept in the hospital that night and visited Lila each of the nine days she was there. He took her to prom that year. She looked gorgeous. Phil couldn't stop smiling. He pushed her wheelchair all night long. The snakebite healed perfectly, but the poor, unlucky girl broke her femur a month later. It must run in the family.
YOU ARE READING
Tales from the Antique Store.
HumorA collection of stories I was commissioned to write but were never published. They are each based on one of five antique objects: A Crib A Baby Carriage A Pocket Watch A Sculpture Pottery I was never given any images of the items, and I had to write...
