Stuck

The gate creaked with rusty decay.

A nearby karaoke bar aired an array of novel songs. A ten-wheeler truck overflowing with rice sacks passed by. Clumsily assembled “tricycles” cluttered the now paved road. Always in a hurry to get to their destination. No time for slowing down.

The hustle of progress shut off as the gate closed of its own accord. And all that was left was the sound of his footsteps as he walked along the cobblestone path.

The old house smelled of the stale scent of books, flipped open for the first time after being stockpiled inside “balikbayan” boxes for several years. Cobwebs adorned the windows. A beam of light seeped through the glass pane, creating a haze of scattering dust. The grandfather clock stood regal among the white sheets that covered the wooden furniture. The broken glass reflected the coppery sheen of the pendulum. It had stood still since the day his father died.

Time doesn’t stop running even if the clock is broken. It won’t wait for us, Ben. We have to keep up with it.

The old house reverberated the things gone but had always remained. Those words had haunted him for years. And the pendulum brought him back to that day when the weather wasn’t fit for fishing yet the sun had given off hope as it filtered out light from those gray clouds. His father was busy tinkering with the grandfather clock, trying to make the pendulum swing again. But he abandoned his work for his son’s insistent pleas. He kissed him on his forehead. And the waters danced with rage, turned the boat over and washed out the years that followed.

Suppressed giggles brought him back from his reverie. His eyes followed his daughter as she danced along with the dusty rays of the sun. Sparkling eyes went well with her toothy smile. His bliss. His redemption. The only thing in his life that put off his guilt aside. At least, for the moment.

“Wow! It’s beautiful. What do you call that, Pa?” his daughter asked with wide-eyed curiosity.

“It’s a pendulum.” he answered as he hugged her tight.

“Make it move, Pa”

“It won’t. And besides, there’s a spider crawling about. See?”

“It will just pass by. Sige na. Please…..” she insisted.

Seems like a storm is heading our way, Ben. It’s blazing hot, Pa. It will just pass by. Sige na. Please…..

“No.” and he kissed her forehead.

And before the tears could fall, he turned his heels around. He would do anything for his daughter. But not the pendulum. The thought of it had tortured him in solitude. The sight of it now had crumbled him to pieces. A touch would definitely kill him.

He heard a heavy panting. He looked back to where his daughter was. Her breath was shallow but she was wearing a reassuring smile and beside her stood the grandfather clock, regal and proud. The weight swung back and forth. And as the short hand struck the eleventh hour, the pendulum illuminated the entire house with a bright bronze luster. [515 words]

 

Tags: Flash Fiction, maureen, Prose, stuck