Dating Father Time's Daughter (Book 1)

Chapter 1: Average and the Angel

Father Time's biggest regret in life was his daughter.

This was a thought that frequently entered his mind as he trained her to be the next Time Keeper. He shook his head in disgust as a young girl (18) charged at him with a five foot long pink and black scythe.

Father Time, who stood 10 feet tall, flipped his silver and gold scythe to the side and blocked her attack. Sparks flew out in different directions as the two curved steel blades clashed.

The young girl was merely inches away from his face, which prompted him to take a further inspection of his daughter. He studied her dazzling dark eyes, her blemish free skin, and her curly pink hair that fell to the small of her back.

With a slight thrust of his wrist, Father Time sent his daughter flying in the opposite direction. Skillfully, his daughter somersaulted three times in the air and stuck the landing. She flashed a smile at her father, who continued to wear the same apathetic expression.

"That's enough for today, Pixie" said Father Time.

"What's the matter? I guess I'm improving so fast it's making you nervous" responded Pixie.

Father Time took his seat in a beautifully decorated silver and gold throne. Pixie and he were in Nirvana. Not the state of mind, but the actual realm. Nirvana was nothing more than an empty white void with Father Time's throne in the center, Cronus' Chamber behind him, and a humongous grandfather clock stretching across the entire sky.

"Your improvement is non-existent. Your progress is unsatisfactory. At this rate, the world will descend into chaos seconds after my death" said Father Time.

Pixie was puzzled. It seemed no matter what she did, pleasing her father was an impossibility. She knew that her scythe wielding abilities were above-average, her control over time was elite, and her use of entropy, or disorder, was perfect. But this meant nothing to the one who meant the most.

So she decided to leave.

Why waste her time and energy trying to please a man, who simply made up his mind that she could never please him? Even if this man was her father. Even if her destiny was to become the sole Time Keeper and to ensure the protection of time. She no longer cared. She no longer cared for a while now. She could see the writing on the nonexistent walls of Nirvana. Her father always wanted a son. She could never be that. She could only be herself.

A daughter.

Without uttering a word, Pixie gripped the end of her scythe and spun a glowing blue circle into the floor of Nirvana. Instantly, she sunk through the floor and disappeared.

Father Time sat in his throne and pondered how he could have gone wrong. He was so engrossed in his own self-pity that he didn't even notice his daughter walking out of his life.

***

Joe Means danced around the spilled oil that turned the kitchen floor into the equivalent of a deep fryer. In fact, all of the employees were frying. There was no air conditioning in the Freedom Fries kitchen.

Freedom Fries was where Joe spent eight hours of his life, five days a week. The store manager usually carouseled him from fry cook to drive thru to front register. Joe never complained. He saw no reason to complain. He was just thankful to be doing something productive with his time. Joe felt his entire life was a waste. He had no long-term goals. No five year plan.

To Joe, the future felt like an unwanted Christmas gift he had no choice but to accept because it was the expectation. He wished the present could be his only present, but the future forced its way into his life, whether through his stockings or a Christmas card.

"Is it okay for me to clock out Mr. McDonald?" asked Joe. A slight whimper was in his tone. A deluge of sweat formed on his forehead. A repetitive rattle was in his legs.

Mr. McDonald was a pudgy man, who had no shame in letting people know that he ate Freedom Fries for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert. He worked nearly forty years at Freedom Fries and he smiled whenever he saw Joe because he saw Joe as his legacy.

"Mr. Means! You finished your shift already?" boomed Mr. McDonald as he wrapped his greasy arm around Joe's sweat-soaked back.

Joe was the antithesis of a bodybuilder. He was rather meek and he often drowned in his own clothing. His uniform shirt was soupy around his collar and his pants were so loose he could smuggle an entire convenience store's worth of items in his pants and still require a belt.

With that said, Joe was tall standing around 6 foot 3 inches. But, he had messy black hair, stubborn acne on his face, and elfish long ears. No, Joe wasn't ugly. He just wasn't handsome.

"Yea. I actually finished my shift thirty minutes ago, but –"

"Slow down Joe, I'll get you your overtime" interrupted Mr. McDonald beaming with content.

"But you should really consider working twelve hours instead of eight. You can make more money" finished Mr. McDonald.

"But I make minimum wage. I don't think it'll make that much of a difference" said Joe.

"Oh, don't worry about that! It's not like you're doing anything else important with your time" said Mr. McDonald.

Joe sighed and said, "Um, actually, I have my high school graduation coming up. That's exciting."

Mr. McDonald's eyes brightened and a gigantic grin stretched across his face.

"Perfect. That means I can schedule you for twelve hours immediately. And you can work weekends and holidays too! Sometimes I can't tell if you're a pushover or if you just don't value your own time."

***

Joe crossed the street with his head down, one hand submerged in his pocket, and his other hand holding a Freedom Fries bag. He wondered if he was doomed to spend his entire life working and eating at Freedom Fries just as he heard the sound of a glass bottle shattering.

Joe looked over towards the park and saw a gang of men in leather jackets moving closer to an 18 year old girl with pink hair. He also noticed the pieces of glass scattered around her feet.

Pixie was no stranger to aggressive men, but she wasn't familiar with being handicapped. She exhausted too much of her strength training with her father all day, and as a result, she had no energy left to spend on the gang of "tough guys" surrounding her.

"I just want to take you out on a date," said the cinder block-headed leader of the gang.

Pixie took a step back and weighed her options. If necessary, she wouldn't hesitate to fight back, but it would attract a lot of unwanted attention. She could already see tomorrow's front page news and trending topic online about a pink haired girl, who beat down a gang of men in the kid-friendly neighborhood park. Pixie needed to get out of such a public place.

She took a second step back and bumped into a man. For a second, she thought the gang had already surrounded her, but then she heard a voice.

"Hey, could you guys leave her alone... please?"

Pixie looked up. Joe was behind her.

Never before had she seen a human so terrified.