expired

Chapter 8, Part 1

It had been two weeks since I'd left Clay. Some days I just wanted to know how he was, but I knew I couldn't do that. Every time I picked up the phone, I pictured him on the beach, tears in his eyes, the years flying off his clock as if they were seconds. That shook me out of it pretty quick.

The next time I went to the Tree, there was no sign of Clay anywhere. Gone were all of his tools, his bikes, and, somehow, his smell. The grass was still matted where his bike tires sat and his kickstand held it up. Not even a note was left for me, but I deserved that. I was just doing what I had to do.

The past two weeks I had fallen back into my routine. I took Clover for several walks a day, spent a lot of time at the Tree, and when I wasn't at the Tree I was at Tia's house.

Matt and I had hardly spoken at all. I was not yet up to apologizing to him. I had said some pretty hurtful things and I knew it, but I also meant every word. I wouldn't apologize for the truth. I wouldn't apologize for knowing more about him than he was willing to admit to himself, clocks and otherwise.

Jane was getting bigger. She did end up getting kicked out of her house, and was now living with us. It added an extra 10 minute commute to her college, but she didn't mind one bit. A few days ago she came out of her bedroom squealing with glee.

"I'm showing!!!" she cried, bounding downstairs to show Matt, who was getting ready to head to his new job at the automotive shop. "Look!" Jane held Matt's hand to her stomach. It curved slightly as he held it tight to her.

"That's amazing," Matt said, kissing Jane on the forehead. "I love you so much. And you too," he smiled, poking Jane's newfound bump.

I watched the whole thing go down from where I was perched at the kitchen table, pretending to be uninterested as I scrolled through my phone and ate my cereal, but I was so excited for them. As angry as I was at Matt, I'd never seen him happier.

And now we've arrived to today. I rolled out of bed, and immediately Clover was on me, leash held in her mouth.

"Girl, I just woke up," I groaned, swiping it out of her mouth. I could see the sadness in her eyes, realizing how mean that was. "I'm sorry," I patted her on the head. "We'll go in a minute."

It was practically a literal minute. I brushed my teeth, ran a brush through my hair, threw on some shoes and we were out the door.

Not only had my days become routine, but so had any interactions with the clocks. The smiles I gave to people felt fake, but I felt somewhat good when I saw their time slow. When I broke up a fight between one scrawny little kid and three kids twice his size, it felt like I was just going through the motions, but it was mildly reassuring when I saw the look on the little one's face.

I passed different houses, different faces, but all somehow the same. When I passed one house in particular though, something felt like it was calling me. It wasn't Clay's but I couldn't remember whose it was.

You don't have to be looking for anything.

It was Edith's. I remembered the mysterious conversation with her so long ago, talking about the Tree. It was reassuring to remember that day and the powers of the Tree. All the memories it held, all the lessons it has taught me. Yeah, it had brought me a lot of hurt, but the Tree solved any problem I gave it. And I didn't even have to be looking for anything.

So Clover and I continued on towards the Tree, through it's thick leaves and onto my chaise. Clover curled up onto the grass next to me, munching on it sleepily. Walks wore her out, no matter how much she loved them and always begged for another.

I was trying to enjoy my book, but something felt off. I looked around my eyes resting on my treehouse. It had been ages since I'd been up there. Without hesitation I climbed up the steps on the trunk, squeezing myself into the space that used to be so big when I was a kid and now I barely had room to turn around in. I picked up one of the first books I saw-- my grandma's journal. I chuckled to myself. No, I didn't have to be looking for anything, but the Tree always seemed to point me in the direction of what I needed. Some advice from the only person who has ever gone through the same thing as me would be a nice thing.