By James Bernardo
"It's dead.", the watch repairman squinted as he examined the innards of the old timepiece he held gingerly between his wrinkled fingers. " I think we need to restore the mechanism. It will take some time.", he said as he placed the watch down the counter.
"Okay, how long do you think it will take?", I eagerly asked. " Come back in about two weeks", he replied as he quickly wrote down the cost for repairs and handed the paper to me.
" Wait, two weeks? I don't have that long. You see, that was my grandfather's favorite watch. He died yesterday. We wanted it buried with him. He would have wanted that.", I was surprised at my candor towards the repairman.
I guess I was already feeling the emotional strain of my grandfather's loss coupled with the incessant nagging of my mother to help make preparations for his burial.
" Please, sir, can you rush the job? I can pay extra if I must. I just need it in three days.", I pleaded.
" Why do you need it to work? He won't be using it anyway, you know." , he quickly retorted.
He was right but it didn't matter. I wanted to give my grandfather his beloved watch in perfect working condition to honor him. Besides, he wore it the day his heart gave out.
" Please, sir. I've gone to other repairmen and they all said the same thing. You are my last chance.", I was close to tears as I handed him what was left in my wallet.
"I'll see what I can do. I can't promise you it will work perfectly but it will work.", he relented. " Thank you, sir. I'll be back in three days.", I answered with a glint of hope in my eyes.
The three days ticked by quickly. I approached the watch repairman who was busy piecing together another timepiece, the springs and gears scattered around the table. He looked up and smiled sheepishly. He handed my grandfather's watch with a tinge of embarrassment. " I fixed the mechanism, tried winding it, it should have worked but it's still dead.", the repairman said as he handed me back my money. " I'm really sorry. "
My heart sank as I reached for the watch. In spite of its age, it looked pristine and well-loved by the man who wore it for more than 50 years. But it remained lifeless like the same man who lies in a coffin at a funeral home. I looked up and saw that it was almost time for the burial.
The open casket offered an unobstructed view of my grandfather's body. I gently lifted his stiff, grey hand and carefully fastened the watch around his wrist. I tried winding it again, wishing it would come back to life.
The night enveloped the day quicker than expected. Sleep eluded me because my dog, Travis, would not stop barking. He usually alerted me if there was someone by the gate or a stranger was walking across street or if he was trying to flush out the rats that come out of the drain pipe. I walked up to the window and slightly parted the blinds to survey the poorly-lit street below. Nothing.
I slid back into the crumpled sheets.
As I closed my eyes, I felt the stillness of everything around me.
Ever so faintly, the silence dissipated when I heard that familiar sound.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Copyright © 2019 by James Bernardo
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
