The Clockwork’s Timepiece By: Alan Chu Now, here, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place.
The Red Queen

It was quite a peculiar headache: not an incredibly annoying pain as most headaches are often wont to do, but an almost exquisite -perhaps enjoyable- steady pulse at the base of his skull. Barely hampering his ability to think, much less walk, it was hardly an issue when Jamie decided to accompany his roommate to his first classes. When he finally noticed the unusual pain he remarked, “Why, how positively awfully neat,” (to no one in particular) “that this most interesting throbbing has seemed to have sprung up overnight. Perhaps I should investigate to it later.” And that, essentially, was the end of that.
Now perhaps he was concentrating a bit too hard on his work (as like most first -year students he was slightly overwhelmed with this sudden increase in studies) for by noontime he realized that the pain was still there. While not exactly commonplace, this continued pain again brought no concern to him as he had more important things to do. But by that afternoon the headache still remained constant, no more or less that that of the morning, and this began to worry him faintly. Promising to himself, “You should take more care of yourself and get some sleep,” he promptly (being somewhat foolish and believing himself to be immune to any defects) decided that instead of sleep, which he could catch up to tomorrow, he would go to his friend’s farewell party at Santa Monica that night.
As the night progressed, so did the headache. Barely remembering anything within the first few hours of the party, (as alcohol often induces) he found out to his almost hysterical horror that through waning moments of the party, instead of getting more and more intoxicated and thus sleepy, he became more awake and alert. Indeed the more he seemed to drink the more he seemed to become coherent and sober! This newfound tolerance did nothing to help his headache; in fact it grew more pronounced as the time passed.
Deciding that this headache was no longer amusing, he waded though the sea of sleeping forms to find his friend Matt and proceeded to ask where he secreted his pills in this house. Matt, having drunk more than what is normally recommended for his 180 lb frame, mumbled incoherently something along the likes of, “... G’ away... I need sleep...table on the kitchen...” and just like that he fell into a deep sleep.
“Well!” thought Jamie. “After tonite I really shan’t worry about passing out behind the wheel.” (even though he did not own a car nor did he ever acquire a valid drivers license)
Finally reaching the threshold to the kitchen, he noticed an enormous table situated exactly in the center and flanked by two track lights, identical in every fashion except bulbs. The bulb hovering over the right side of the table emitted a bright, normal yellowish/white light that is commonplace in any American household. The bulb on the left, however, was a black light, making everything that the light touched look like a negative photo. Taking a moment to observe the lights from a distance, he said “How very odd” with a very quizzical look on his face.
Entering the kitchen, he let his eyes adjust to the strange lighting. Finding the mix of the two lights displeasing, he adverted his eyes from the black light and moved into the normal light’s radiance. As soon as he crossed the room to the right side he felt the pain in his head throb fiercely, it became almost unbearable. Stumbling into the table, he clumsily began to search for something that would ease his headache. Out of place as it was, the half of the table that wasn’t covered with unwashed dishes and piles of paper contained rows and rows of pills and pill jars. Many of the pills he noticed were vitamins and/or prescription pills, (one jar seemed to have expired in May 1971) some had labels on the side, many others not. Anyways all this frantic searching was worsening his condition so he decided to sit down to rest. Massaging his temples as the pain had turned from hurting to splitting, he moved over to the left side of the table, as the light there was less intense. He began to think abstractly “Let’s see... today is the fourth... or is it the fifth? Yes it would be the fifth now because the moon has passed its zenith a few hours ago -I think. Oh drat, was I supposed to meet my girlfriend for dinner?” as the pain progressed: “Or was she supposed to meet me for dinner?” and sometimes he said, “Perhaps tomorrow night I’ll eat tonight’s dinner for her. Wait, that makes no sense. Or was it her for me? ...Well that can’t be because it makes no sense either.” And so on and so forth.
Almost half an hour passed before he realized that he was asking himself the same inane questions over and over again. Although barely standing up (he was quite proud of this fact) he proceeded to walk upright and cantered wobbly over to the table. Taking a deep breath, he began once again looking for a pill to relieve this headache. Brushing aside several expired pill containers, he noticed a glimmer of white on the corner of his eye. Reflecting almost piercingly in the spectrum of the black light, it was a small black pill with white lettering chiseled into the flat of its surface. With an almost single-minded abject curiosity he immediately forgot about everything else and snatched up the pill. Holding it up to the light, the pill shone a dark glossy colour. About the size of a Tylenol, it was shaped in more of a football-fashion. He would have completely missed seeing the pill except for the white lettering on its front side. In big bold letters, it proclaimed itself to be: FOR HEADACHES.
“Queer.” He said examining the pill in the glow of the black light. “How very, absolutely, positively queer.” Flipping the pill over, he looked to see if there was any more white lettering. Feeling strangely unnerved by this pill, he was half expecting to find it saying: Jamie, for the love of God please eat me! Seeing the back devoid of any suggestions, he then looked around to see if anyone was trying to play a trick on him, maybe the pill contained ink or some type of strange gasses. Seeing no one in the vicinity of the kitchen nor any cameras, visible or hidden, he shrugged his shoulders and popped the pill into his mouth. Walking over to the refrigerator, the contents inside contained no other types of liquid except for an old, forgotten soda. Figuring the soda to taste better than a half drunken and oft forgotten beer, (which, by the way, was distributed in great quantities all over the house) he took a sip of the soda and promptly swallowed everything in one long gulp.
“Perhaps this was not one of my greatest ideas.” he thought to himself immediately. Indeed this idea was reinforced less than a minute later as he began to feel funny, not like a sick funny, but an I-just-got-hit-on-the-head-one-too-many-times-and-now-running-in-circles kind of funny. He was beginning to become sleepy and disoriented, but at the same time he was getting jittery, kind of like he just drank four cups of coffee. Suddenly realizing just how small the house really was, he once again waded over the throngs of sleeping people and went outside for some fresh air. Instantly invigorated by the night air, he found himself sitting on bench situated in front of the house. Leaning back and folding his hands behind his head, for the first time in that whole day he felt normal -he was calm, the pill had kicked in and the headache was now receding. It was now back again to its original magnitude, and he finally felt sleepy. He stretched and yawned, then lazily shuffled down to prop his head on one of the bench cushions. “Everything is back in its place,” he thought. “I guess I just needed some rest.” And he thought no more about it.
...Which is why he became so disturbed when that next morning he woke up to find himself lying down on a sidewalk in downtown L.A. during its never-ending rush hour.
Squinting in the bright glare of the morning sun he rose warily, not exactly too sure of his bearings just quite yet. Walking backwards away from the street, he bumped his head against a metal pole. He turned around just in time to see two little children accompanied with their mother staring curiously at him. Smiling feebly back at them, Jamie turned to walk away. The mother paid him no attention to him whatsoever.
So he began to trot down the street wherein he saw two very young business men (they couldn’t have been over 20) engaged in a very verbose argument. The topic, he learned after eavesdropping, was something about how to use the ‘VRLM’ to ‘bypass’ Tele- something. Having no idea about anything that was said, Jamie hesitantly walked in front of them and with the most amount of confidence that he could muster, asked, “Excuse me sirs, could you possibly tell me just where I am?”
Instead of looking up to reply, the two young men walked right into him and still in the throes of their conversation, bumped and knocked him out of their path. Not even looking up or back at him, the two men continued to walk until the end of the crosswalk, where they turned on the corner and out of his sight. “What?!” sputtered Jamie. “Wait! You can’t... but... you just... what just happened?”
Shaking his head confusedly, he walked further down the street. Vying for the attention of an elderly woman Jamie was once again rewarded with the same results. Asking for directions, she simply walked past him in no great hurry and did not even notice him a few inches from her face. Quaking in desperation, Jamie began to hold his head with both of his hands and rock back and forth. “Well,” he decided after a few minutes of this, “this really isn’t helping any. I just have to find out what is causing these unusual circumstances and then perhaps someone can help me out a bit.” And to his surprise, at the exact moment after he finished his last word he noticed a middle-aged homeless man sitting contently a few feet away staring at him amusedly, occasionally checking his watch at indiscriminant periods in time. (Even though he did not have a watch on his wrist, or anywhere else on his person for that matter)

“Excuse me,” began Jamie timidly. “Can you tell me where I am?”

The man appeared startled that Jamie had spotted him and tried to talk to him. His entire demeanor changed, and the once-content man now seemed hurried and flustered. Rising to his feet in a flash, the man hesitantly looked around to see if anyone else perhaps was looking at him, as Jamie’s desire to converse with him was a rather odd occurrence. Wringing his hands together nervously, he said quietly and rather quickly, “I’m sorry but I shall be late if I linger here any longer. I have no time for you.” He then darted into the crowd and disappeared.
“Hey!” Jamie called. Without thinking, he decided to chase after the man. After all he was the only one who recognized his presence that whole day. Throwing himself into the crowd of business suits, Jamie gave no regard to those who he shoved out of his way, as he was pretty sure that they did not recognize him. Seeing a flash of dirty brown nearly 50 feet away and turning the corner, Jamie sprinted off into that direction. Gasping for air (as he was unused to any type of physical exertion) as he turned the corner he found out to his disappointment that the man was gone. Clenching his fists in frustration, he almost screamed a rather rude obscenity when at the edge of his eye he noticed a little crack in that wall that was connected to two buildings that he did not recognize. Barely fitting to the makeshift passageway, he found out to his great surprise that before him was a gigantic forest with twin sycamores reaching of almost 200 feet high.
Jamie stopped short and blinked twice, rather stupidly. “Huh?” He thought to himself. “A full-fledged forest in the middle of downtown LA? This can’t be right… right?” Looking behind him he saw the alleyway and buildings almost 100 yards away, he again stopped short in surprise. “I didn’t take one step away from the buildings, this can’t be possible.”
Understandably upset at this time, turned around to face the two buildings. He could have sworn that he only took one step, maybe two at most, but certainly not enough to cover that amount of distance. Although disturbed, all of the little odd events on this day piqued his curiosity. Trotting over to the edge of the forest, the foliage was so dense that there was no passageway between trees. Noticing an overhang jutting over a large boulder and another larger tree, there was a little dark tunnel, about 6 feet high and 4 feet in length. “Hello, what’s this?” he thought to himself. “I might as well see where this leads.” And with that he took a step into the forest.
The tunnel itself stretched on into the darkness far beyond Jamie’s line of sight. Feeling his way through the first feet of the passageway, he let his eyes adjust to the dim lighting. Although this tunnel, being rather dark and cold, disenchanted Jamie, he decided that there must be an end to it sometime (as most tunnels generally do) and vowed to find the exit. “After all,” he mused, “The worst thing that can happen is if I get lost, and that doesn’t mean much ‘cause I’ve been lost since this morning. Maybe I can even catch up to the homeless man.”
The tunnel seemed to stretch on for quite a distance. Jamie was walking at a normal pace, and felt like he was constantly moving forward but on a treadmill. For each step he took he remained in place, that for all his speed he was barely keeping up in place. Having nothing much else to do except walking he presently began to think of what he would see at the end this journey. Maybe there would be an old, abandoned gold mine where the homeless take refuge. Or perhaps there would be a (classically) evil old crone who coerced little boys and girls into accompanying her to dinner in which there would end up to become the entrée. In either case he just wanted to find out the mystery of the tunnel in time so that he could return home in time for dinner. “I wonder what the cafeteria is selling today?” was his most pervading question for the day, even more then the answer to all the queer happenings that occurred today.
Continuing to walk on the narrow path, out of the darkness he heard a howl that one can listen to at any hour of the day in any suburban area except that this howl was different. It was neither a howl of anger or hunger, but it was menacing. Later on Jamie would associate the feeling that he had with that of a man seeing a dead relative after being buried. At this present time however, Jamie simply decided to walk a tad bit faster, and in a few moments the howl faded away into the distance. Beginning to finally tire, he noticed a small glow at the far end of the tunnel. Instantly cheered, he began to jog to the exit, and upon reaching the end he stumbled over the threshold as he became disoriented to the sudden influx of light.
Slowing for a moment to observe his surroundings, Jamie saw himself in a lush meadow dotted with little stubby trees and rocks that were situated randomly, each of which were at the perfect height for sitting. And one of the rocks, Jamie realized, was being used to sit on. The bum he noticed earlier that day was sitting (quite contently) cross-legged on a stone about 50 paces from Jamie with his back turned to him. Jamie couldn’t see exactly just what the bum was doing at that moment, but it appeared that he was just sitting there, not really doing anything except checking for the time with one hand (still no watch) and eating a hot-pocket with the other. “Hey! There you are! Why did you run away back there?” Jamie boomed across the field.
The man appeared to be so startled that he not dropped his hot- pocket he also fell off his rock. “W- what?” he called back hesitantly as he fell off the rock. As the man turned around it seemed that he received an even greater shock at the fact that the person who spoke was Jamie. “You! Y- you followed me?” the man said incredulously. Pointing his finger at Jamie, he said accusingly, “Why d- did you f- follow me? Wh- what do you want?”
Shifting his feet and averting his eyes from the man’s, Jamie responded uncomfortably, “I just wanted to know how to get home, sir.”

The man looked up thoughtfully. “Home... I don’t sup- suppose you know that y- you are already home?”

“This doesn’t look like Orange County to me.” Jamie challenged him, looking around doubtfully. “In fact this doesn’t even look like California.”

“But this is home.”

Gritting his teeth in frustration, Jamie said as calmly as possible, “This may be your home, old man but I want to know how to get back to my home, if you don’t mind.”

“I do have a n- name, if you wouldn’t mind calling me s- such.” He said earnestly.

“And it is...?”

“Alexander Tier a- at your service.” He replied with utmost seriousness. “Although I would like t- to t-talk to you further, I- I have to go do din- dinner.”

“Dinner? But it’s not even, ah...” He looked up to the sky to see the position of the sun “... one o’clock yet.”

When Jamie looked back to where Alexander was he saw him walking away northwards. “Hey!” He called to him again. Running after him “Wait up! Where are you going?”

He began to chase after him but Jamie ducked under an overhanging branch for a split second he lost eye contact with Alexander and just like that he was gone. “Wow... that was pretty amazing.” He whistled through his teeth. Seeing a sign up a little further ahead, he hurried up to see what it said. Gaily painted in yellow and black, the sign said: ‘To Dinner” and underneath it “will be served promptly at o’clock” (it was pointing to the left).
“Funny, they seemed to have left out what time dinner is.” He looked around for a bit. There were two paths, both beginning at the sign and curving like a V, one to the right and one veering off into the left. The right path looked passable, if a bit spooky. (As there was little or no sunlight and all the tree branches seemed to be on the verge of attacking any who dared to walk under its boughs) While the path to the left seemed to be a lot more promising, but there was something that was odd with the path. (He felt like he was seeing the path as a reflection through a mirror) Never containing the trait of courage in abundance, he said to himself, “Well, I suppose this path is as good as any.” And took to the left path.
He was very pleasantly surprised when a few moments later he came across a little brook with two little old ladies wading in the middle, attempting to catch fish. “Hello” they said in unison as he approached. “I’ve never-” began the first
“-seen you before-” said the second
“-young man.” finished the first.
Looking dazedly at the two, they spoke so fluently it seemed as if they merged the words together into one sentence. “Hi,” he said to both of the women. “My name is Jamie, and I’m kind of lost. Do any of you know how I can get home?”
“You’re lost? Well-” began the second
“-you should go and see Dorian-”
“-maybe he can help you.” ended the second.
Feeling relieved that at least they weren’t attempting to run away, he began to walk up closer to ask where he could perhaps locate this ‘Dorian’.
“Stop!” (he could have sworn that they both said this at once)
“You’ll scare-” said the first
“-away all of-”
“-the little-“
“-kittens.” ended the first. (or was it the second?)

“The kittens?” he repeated lamely. “Um, why would the, um, kittens, uh, be in the stream?”
The first woman stopped what she was doing and began to stare at him warily, “Well, kittens are-”
“-like small cats-”
“-correct?”
“Well is suppose...” he began.
“And like cats-” she interrupted him rudely.
“-kittens do hate water.”
Nodding at her assumption, he found himself quite unable to find a suitable response.
“Anyways,” she continued. “My sister and I-“
“-decided that since large-”
“-volumes of water is the-”
“-last place any kitties would want to be,-”
“-this is obviously where they would hide.” She (with utmost satisfaction for figuring this out) concluded.
“Besides,” began the second sister. “My little Timmy will be so afraid by himself.”
Jamie gave her a shy smile, relieved that finally one of the sisters completed a full sentence. “I’m very sorry to hear that.” He said sincerely. “Can I do anything to help find your lost kitten?”
“Oh no, no.” She chuckled. “Timmy is no kitten, he’s-”
“-her son.”
“Oh I’m sorry. I thought we were talking about your lost kit-” he trailed off confusedly. “We... we were talking about cats... right?”
“Now why would we be-”
“-talking about felines, dear?” she (the second) answered sweetly. “We are looking for my son, remember?”
“Yes ma’am, I suppose that it would be quite pointless to speak of cats when your son is missing.” He said agreeing with her.
Pleased to see him finally agree with her, she clapped her hands robustly and said, “Well although it was nice chatting with you young man-”
“-we really must be off. Now, now, run along.” And they both shooed him up further down the path.
“They were very nice women, if a bit confusing.” He thought to himself. Noticing the area around him getting darker as he walked down the path, Jamie reached down into his pocket and pulled out an old Zippo lighter. Although he didn’t smoke (he found the habit to be distasteful) he always kept the lighter with him, as it held more of a sentimental value to him than practical. True to his personality, he always kept good care of his belongings, and his lighter was always brightly polished and contained a new flint and fluid. Letting the light emitting from the flame illuminate the path, he noticed that overhead the forest boughs grew more thickly, and though still midmorning, the air around him lay dark and still.
Jamie felt goosebumps erupt from his skin as a chill wind penetrated through the path. “Alright,” he whispered to himself, “this really sucks. I just want to go home and sleep. In fact this whole day really sucks.” He began rambling, “I mean I’m missing all of my classes today, so I’m gonna fall behind and fail freshmen year, like I really should not be here, I don’t even know where here is. I mean this really, really, really sucks and I’m sick of this and...”

“Hey, quiet down a little, if you please.”

Almost jumping 4 feet to the side, and almost giving out a shriek he turned around and saw a very peculiar sight. Swaddled in clothes two sizes to big for his diminutive body, the little fellow stood up at about four and a half feet in height. He was rather dark in complexion, in fact he was dark all over as he was wearing black shoes, black pants, and a black sweater with his hood on. Jamie wasn’t too sure of his actual weight as the clothes draped around his rail-thin frame, but he knew that the actual fellow couldn’t have been over 90 lbs.

“Wow.” He sighed out in relief. “You gave me quite a fright back then.”

“Really? I am most awfully sorry about that. Are you lost or something?” He asked in perfectly structured English vernacular. He peered up at Jamie inquisitively and boldly walked up to him. “You,” he said poking his finger into Jamie’s stomach, (as he could only reach to Jamie’s shoulders when he was on the tips of his toes) “Do not belong here. Who are you, really?”

Walking back two steps as the little fellow’s close proximity made him uncomfortable, he replied, “Well you are quite correct on all accounts. My name is Jamie and I do not belong here. I am quite lost and I was told that I could perhaps see someone who could help me find my way back home.”

“Hmm, someone who could help you...” Contemplating for a moment, he yelled out, “I got it! You must be talking about Dorian, I’m sure of it.” He concluded happily, pleased that he could solve Jamie’s riddle with one answer.

“Dorian eh? Could you show me where I could find him, little one?”

“Little one?” He shouted indignantly. “First of all my name is not ‘little one’, its Stephen, and secondly I am exactly 14 and 1/5ths years old to the day.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you, its just that you look so young and...” Jamie trailed off as he saw Stephen narrow his eyes when he mentioned the fact of his very youthful looks. Clearing up his throat, he finished up hurriedly, “Anyways could you perhaps, ah, show me the way to, um, Dorian?”

“Sure, I suppose. But there’s one problem...” He paused for a moment then added, “What do I get out of it?”

“Uh, I don’t know. I really don’t have much on me, what do you want?” asked Jamie.

“Hmm, well lets see. You don’t seem like a very rich fellow so I won’t make you part with anything valuable... well I guess that item there will do.” Stephen said, pointing to the lighter.

“Oh no, oh no, I couldn’t possibly part with this lighter. You see it was a present from my grandfather who just last year passed away. It’s the most important thing that I carry with me. I can’t give you the lighter but you can have anything else that I possess on my person.” He said desperately.

“No,” he replied shaking his head, “I don’t really want or need anything else. You either give me the lighter or there is no deal.” He finished with authority.

Considering his options right now Jamie realized that he really didn’t have many. “I guess I have no choice. Lead on.”

As the two walked further down the path Stephen lead Jamie into a series of turns so often that he could have sworn that they were going in circles. Whenever he questioned Stephen about the direction they were taking however, the boy grew irritable and moody. But when Jamie asked him about anything else he became quite energetic and verbose. After a few hours of these constant mood swings he became used to it and found the conversation to be quite interesting.
“I personally hate to talk to anyone in the courtyard, (Jamie found out earlier that day that the ‘courtyard’ was where Dorian and many other people lived) but I especially hate to talk to Twisted Elizabeth. She always orders me to do things, like fetching her colored candles and other such nonsense.”
Not even taking the effort to listen to Stephen rant (as he had been doing such for what must have been hours) Jamie threw in a sympathetic “too bad” and a “that’s horrible!” every once in a while. That last sentence however caught his attention. Jamie asked, “Who’s the twisted Elizabeth?”
“Twisted (with a capital T) Elizabeth is Traci’s sister, they’re twins.” Stephen clarified. “I think I dislike her more than anyone else in this place, in fact I loathe her.”

“What did she do to you?” he asked.

“Not only me, she made everyone very upset with her. That is why Dorian had her banished from the courtyard. She stole his dinner from him once, and tried to put the blame on me, or course. They say that she took the kittens from the two grannies (the women in the brook) and made them into soup. But the worst thing that she did was to free the Hound.” At this last declaration he gave a slight shudder.

“What’s the Hound?

“The Hound looks like, well, I don’t really know what the Hound looks like.” Stephen admitted. “But I do know what it does and where it is. The Hound will eat anything that ventures near its lair. When it howls I always get scared, like I’m a four year old again.”

“I think I know what you’re talking about.” Jamie began excitedly. “I heard it right before I met Alexander. It had the oddest ring to it, like a dog but something more than any dog I’ve ever seen.”

“Ah hmm.” changing the subject, “So you have met Alexander? He is a most annoying character, wouldn’t you agree? I can’t stand him, he is always so nervous and antsy.”

And with that he reverted back to his original topic of conversation of how people mistreat him so.

A few moments later Stephen stopped and said proudly, “Well we’re here. I guess I’ll leave now, I’ve finished my part at least. You’re on your own from here.”

“Um, hey thanks a lot I guess... but where exactly are we. This place doesn’t really look like a good place to be labeled as a courtyard.” Jamie gestured, pointing around him. The terrain that he was situated in was uneven; the ground was pretty much made up of hard compact dirt and covered in roots that linked many tall pine trees together.

“Well of course this place isn’t the courtyard. That’s a couple of hundred paces north from here. I’m not allowed to show up anywhere near the gates ‘cause Dorian is kind of mad at me. Anyways to make a long story short, I’m banned from entering the courtyard for the next, um (counting his fingers) three decades.” He said thoughtfully, “I don’t know why he was so mad, all I did was borrow his pipe for a while, I really did mean to return it.”

“Alright well, I guess I’ll see you later.” Jamie said absently, his focus turning northward.

Stephen looked downcast. “Not very likely.” Seeing Jamie’s puzzled expression, he said reassuringly, “Oh don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll treat you better then they do to most other people. Just watch out for Dorian, he can be a pretty mean guy... wait correct that. He is an especially mean guy.”

“I’ll take that into consideration.” With that he turned around and headed off northbound.

True to his word, after about a few hundred paces northward Jamie encountered a large circular wall made up of large, uncut stones in the middle of the forest. Entering through a large hole in the wall he found out to his surprise that the inside of the courtyard resembled that of a manicured garden. There was a plot of land for every type of garden flora, and connected to each garden was a small summer table where all types of people were engaged in conversation. It was like a never-ending afternoon dinner party. There were clusters of people here and there, and in each individual garden there were different classes of people: from paupers to nobles, average income to high class/ wealthy. Each group, he noted sat with their own, there was no intermingling between any of the classes.
As Jamie walked around the courtyard he noticed just how large the place really was. The inside, he noted, was in fact much larger then the wall that it was surrounded by. In fact, as he looked across the courtyard, it seemed to continue on forever, he couldn’t see where the wall ended. The dimensions of the wall from the outside were probably about two football fields across and likewise in length. From the inside the courtyard seemed to stretch on for miles.
“Alright, just how I am going to find Dorian in this crowd?” Jamie wondered to himself. Wandering around aimlessly, he passed by several groups of girls. Smiling shyly at them, he nonetheless walked past them, as he couldn’t quite well up the courage to ask them where he could find Dorian. As he passed another group of giggling girls, he saw before him a nice small little garden that was filled with red tulips with a single, gorgeous white rose emerging from the center. Seeing no one around, he decided to sit on the chairs near the table, (as he was tired from walking all day) and rest for a moment. Finding the plush chairs to be exceedingly comfortable, he began dozing off when he heard an amused voice call out behind him.

“What are you doing sitting my chair, sir?”

Shocked awake, Jamie spun around and sputtered out, “I’m so sorry! I was just wandering around and being a bit tired, saw this lovely little garden, and uh, decided that the chairs would be a nice place to rest for a moment.”

“Don’t worry about it. Hey, I’ve never seen you before. My name’s Sarah, how do you do?” She asked politely, extending her hand in greeting.

Smiling, he found out to his surprise that this girl charmed him. “I’m actually a bit lost, but other than that I’m fine. My name’s Jamie.” He responded, shaking her hand.

“Well its nice to meet you, Jamie. So where are you trying to go to?”

“I’m actually supposed to find someone named Dorian, someone said that he could possible lead me home.” He answered truthfully.

“Dorian?” She asked incredulously. “Why, that’s my father! I could show you the way to him.”

Grabbing a hold of him by his arm, Sarah proceeded to lead him through the maze of gardens. As they walked together past the diverse (but very often) beautiful gardens, Sarah explained the differences of each and of their owners. “You see, the gardens are almost a mirrored reflection of just how the hierarchy is around here. The wealthy here have the larger and more elaborate gardens, the poor have the simple gardens. Like every culture we have our wealthy and the less fortunate, its just that we don’t believe that anyone should be poor, at least in the sense that they have no place to call home. Each individual person here has their own home, but we really don’t need it here. Everyone is welcome in each other’s garden, it’s like we kind of share everything.”

Jamie thought about this for a moment, then answered, “So it’s kind of like a workable form of communism, right?”

Sarah looked at him curiously. “You aren’t like anyone else around here. No one here knows anything about government or politics. We do the same thing every day, every hour. So why is it that you are so different?”

“I’m from Orange County, you know, in L.A.. I somehow got lost and now I’m just trying to find my way back.” he said sheepishly.

“Sorry, I’ve never heard about this L.A.. No one else here cares about things like that except for me. I want to see how it’s like to go to the outside, to see different things. It’s just something I want, you know?” She paused for a moment to regard what she just said. “You must think that I’m odd, don’t you?”

“Not at all! In fact you are the first normal person here that I’ve met so far. Everyone else is so strange, so foreign to me. How come you are so different?”

She replied, “Do you remember the way that my garden was designed? Admittedly it is quite small compared to the other gardens surrounding it, but when you look at it from the perspective of the single rose at its center, the surrounding garden of tulips grows long and almost endless. The tulips, though beautiful, are content to stay in the garden. The rose however, wants to get out to see the world, so it stretches upwards to see what is missing from outside. But it knows it cannot ever go anywhere else because its roots are too far intermeshed with the tulips.

“I don’t know why I’m different, but it has always been that way. I think that is one of the reasons that I live by myself instead of my father, I would have probably drove him into insanity.” She said ruefully.

After this speech the two fell silent. Jamie thought about what she said and this seemed to make sense. In fact the only thing that made sense during this past day was Sarah. “She looks so very young,” he thought, “but she’s so different from anyone I ever met before, here or otherwise.” He studied her closely. She couldn’t have been more that 16, possibly 17. She seemed to be delicate, like she was made up of white porcelain. Her face though was too delicate and flawless to be that old, she looked to be around 12. Jamie felt drawn to her, not because of her beauty, but because of something less tangible that she possessed.

After a few more minutes of silent walking, she asked him softly, “After you see my father could we talk for a little longer? I would like to get to know more of you.”
“Sure, no problem.” He answered.

“See that grove of trees up there? My father will be waiting for you up there. Let me go up first and tell him that you need to see him. Just wait here for a few seconds.”

The moment that she left Jamie could smell the pungent aroma of roses that seemed to follow Sarah. Looking around him he saw what appeared to be two richly dressed noblemen arguing over tea and crumpets. To his left there were a group of teenage boys throwing teapots and crumpets at each other, and to his right were three little old women doing whatever it is little old women do.

“Why is it that all I see are people eating and lounging around? No one is doing anything else. No one here goes to school or work or even out to play! This is the very antithesis of a working society... how odd.” Jamie thought to himself.

“Hey Jamie!” Sarah called out to him from the edge of the grove of trees. “You can come in now. Dad’s expecting you.”

Walking wearily to Sarah’s side, she gave him a reassuring smile and said, “Just make sure that you always tell him the truth and he shouldn’t be too hard on you, trust me.”

They both walked down the path until they reached the center of the grove where they found Dorian sitting down cross-legged on a large flat rock. “Hey dad.” Sarah called out. “This is Jamie, he needs to see you. I guess I’ll leave you two alone to talk. Be nice to him, will you papa?”

Giving him the thumbs-up sign as she passed, he nonetheless felt intimidated by the man sitting in front of him. Although Jamie wasn’t too of his height (as he was sitting down) Dorian looked liked he would be around 50 years old but still containing a physique that easily put Jamie’s to shame. The man was dark-skinned in complexion, which was a great contrast to Sarah’s pale skin tone.

“What do you want from me?” he demanded.

Jamie replied simply and sincerely, “I really don’t know where I am and I heard that you could possibly show me the way home. Everything that I encountered here seems to be the opposite of what is should be... do you understand what I’m saying?”

“No, I don’t. Would you care to explain just what you mean? As of right now all you’re doing is spewing out gibberish to me.” Dorian said rudely.

“Okay, this is what happened...” Jamie began his story from the very beginning, about how he had a headache and went to the party. All the events since that night were recounted in careful detail, all the way up to when he met Sarah and when she lead him to see her father. “...And that is why I am here in front of you. I really don’t know what is going on with whatever is happening, and I need your help.”

“Don’t you know anything about the rules and order here? I have no idea where this ‘Orange County’ is, but if you want to get back to where you lived all you have to do is to go back in time.” Dorian said condescendingly, as if speaking to a rather dimwitted child.

“What do you mean, go back in time? How in the hell am I supposed to ‘go back in time’?” Jamie said indignantly. “Look, I don’t want to be here and I’m sure you don’t want me to be here, so if you could possibly give me some advice on how I can leave, I’ll never bother you again.”

“You don’t know anything about this world, do you?” He asked Jamie. Not waiting for his answer, he continued, “I’m guessing that we live in a very different place than you do. I do have some advice, if you’re willing to hear it.”

“Sure.”

Dorian stood up and walked over to him, so that they were both at eye level. “Don’t be so impatient, it’ll be the death of you yet.”

“So you are going to kill me because I’m impatient?” Jamie asked him dubiously. Dorian’s no-so-friendly attitude was beginning to irritate him. He said with as much sarcasm as possible, “Is there any other such information that you could graciously bestow upon me?”

“No to the first question and yes to the second. We kind of have a rule here that no one ever dies.” He said, pulling a pipe from his pocket and lighting the remaining tobacco inside. They both stood in silence for a few minutes, Jamie tapping his right foot impatiently and Dorian calmly smoking from his pipe. “Okay, I guess I’ll start by telling you about the rules that we follow here. Take a look around you, what do you see happening?”

Jamie turned his head around. Looking down the path he still saw people talking about and eating dinner. Some were tending to their gardens while others were sleeping in the fresh cut grass. “It looks to me like everyone is having dinner.”

“Exactly. What time did you get here, I mean what time did you come into the garden?” Dorian asked expectantly.

“Well it seems like I’ve been here for a two to three hours at the most.” He said thoughtfully.

“Exactly!” Dorian repeated. “You’ve been here for quite some time yet you still don’t see what is going on. Look at the time of day around you, see where the sun’s rotation is. Nothing has changed, it all stays the same! Now do you see what I mean, are you beginning to understand?”

“Why you are absolutely right!” Jamie exclaimed wonderingly. “But how can this be? How does this tie in with me?”

“This is the only way that I think will get you back home. You can’t just walk out of this place, anywhere you go you’ll eventually wind up at the courtyard. So that’s why you have to go back in time.”

Jamie looked up at Dorian and said, “So how exactly do I go back in time?”

“Remember that pill that you said that you took for your headache? Well there you go. Take another one and you’ll probably be back to the time right before you took that first pill. I think at least.”

“So where can I find some of these pills?”

“The better question is: why should we give you these pills?” Dorian answered smugly.

“Fine! Forget I said anything. I don’t need your help, I’ll find my way out of here, thank you very much.” He then turned around and proceeded to walk down the path to meet up with Sarah.

“Wait, come back.” Dorian called after him. “I have something to say to you that might help you get out.”

Jamie turned around expectantly. He decided that he really had nothing to lose in listening to what Dorian had to say.

“When you leave this grove of trees, meet up with my daughter and instruct her to take you to see Traci. She’ll know who Traci is. I have no pills for you to take, but Traci does.” With that last word he took the pipe out of his mouth and placed it into his front right pocket. He turned away and cantered off into the forest.

“So how did it go?” Sarah asked him as Jamie emerged from the forest.

“Not too bad, he wasn’t as crass after I attempted to leave. He said something about having you introduce me to this person called Traci, right?”

“Traci!” She cried with dismay. “He wants me to show you Traci? She is the only person who makes me uneasy, she and her sister, ‘Liz. They’re kind of creepy, I think that insanity runs through their veins.”

“Oh that’s all right,” he chuckled as she began to lead him to the eastern gate of the courtyard, “I think that almost everyone here that I’ve met is a bit crazy or senile. I mean everyone except for you, of course.” He said hastily as she shot him a not-so-appreciative look.

A few minutes (or was it hours?) they approached the eastern gate. This gate was much smaller and less ornate then the one that he used to get inside of the courtyard. The gate itself was made up of three long basalt stones that were framed in argyle. There were no elaborate markings of any sort, and the hinges that held the sagging wooden doors itself looked rusted and decimated.
“Well here we are.” Sarah announced. “Sorry about the condition of the gate, not too many of us use it anymore as there isn’t much to do on the eastern side of the courtyard. People also avoid going eastward as only the two twisted sisters live there. No one else has lived there for quite some time, at least as long as the sisters have been living there. Traci’s harmless, but I can’t really say the same thing about Elizabeth. Those two are twins, but they hate each other.”

“I see.” Jamie murmured. “So where can I find this Traci?”

“See the path in front of you? Walk down past the first intersection and at the next intersection take a left. At the end of that road take another left and you’ll see a large house. Traci lives there, but I’m not too sure where Elizabeth lives.”

“Alright,” He said enthusiastically, “That should be no problem.”

Looking down to the path he saw that it was very little used, there were patches of vegetation growing in every direction. “Thanks a lot,” he said, turning around to face her. “Without your help I could have never... never... um Sarah?"

As he looked around to thank her, he found out to his surprise that she was gone, seemingly like she vanished into thin air. A cool wind picked up, and as he felt the breeze across his face, he smelled roses cloying to him like perfume.
Amazed but not entirely surprised (as he had seen much more unusual things that day) he began to walk down the path. The wind picked up, but it no longer brought about the scent of roses. Instead it smelled more earthy, like dirt mixed in with decaying foliage. The path to the second intersection was not long, but extremely hard to penetrate. Oftentimes vegetation had completely grown over the road or sticks were piled up in the most inopportune places to make his progress more arduous. Though the journey was more difficult than he had originally anticipated, he got to the house in a better time than he expected.
“Gorgeous.” He whispered, awestruck by the size and beauty of the house. It couldn’t even be called a house; it was more like a mansion. Built like an old Victorian-style structure, at each corner of its third story roof had a large screaming gargoyle statue. In front of the mansion was an old dried up well with the centerpiece being a naked angel with its head broken off. The enormous doors itself was flanked by two massive columns that stretched up nearly 60 feet in the air. All in all this was a pretty impressive place to visit upon.

His voice caught as he knocked on the door. “Hel- hello? Um, is anyone home?”

Knocking again, he waited to no avail. He tried to turn the door. Finding it unlocked, he pushed it open with a loud creak. Taking a few steps inside, he found out that it was nearly pitch-black, and the light from the doorway couldn’t illuminate even the first room that he was in. “Oh this is quite disturbing, it really can’t be good.” He said to himself.
Walking around the front foyer, he let his eyes adjust to the nearly complete darkness. Felling a bit braver, he ventured up the first set of stairs. “Hello?” He called out. “Is anyone out there?”
He felt the railing as he ventured up the stairs. Clogged with settled dust, he gagged some particles flew into his nose. As he reached the second story, he took a left as he saw a light shining behind a door. Knocking on the door, he once again repeated, “Hello, is anyone there?” Hearing no answer he opened the door. Looking into the room he saw two oversized chairs facing the fireplace that was cheerfully lit despite the summer-like temperature outside. As he entered the room he could feel the heat emitting from the fire, it made him feel like he was participating in a sauna. Walking upon the outskirts of the walls, as he circled the room he took into notice the rows upon rows of books that was littered all over the ground.
Realizing that there was no one on the room, he turned around and proceeded to close the door. As he approached the doorway entrance he saw a silhouette of an old woman just two feet away from him. This time he did give out a terrified shriek (he hit a note in which only dogs could hear) and fell backwards, straight on his buttocks. As soon as he could find his breath, he gasped out, “Oh my lord, don’t ever do that again! I don’t think I’ve ever been so cared in my life.”

The woman gave out a cackle, “And you might you be, traipsing through my home as if it were yours?” (She said this with great humour)

“I’m, I’m sorry.” He said, continuing to gasp for air. “My name is Jamie, I’m supposed to talk with you, if you are Ms. Traci.”

“Why I am! I am her, if that’s what you mean.” She said smiling merrily. “But I don’t answer to ‘Ms. Traci’, my name is just Traci. What is it that you need?”

“Well, I...” He began, brushing the dust off his shirt. “I need your help. You see Dorian sent me to you so that I could retrieve a certain pill from you that supposedly alters time.”

“Why yes, I do have such a certain pill!” She exclaimed, grabbing his hand and leading him to the chairs. “Here sit down young man, it looks as though you need to rest up a bit. Would you like something to drink or eat?”

“Yes, that would be wonderful. Could I please have a glass of water?” He asked her, his throat raw from inhaling all the dust from the house and all the screaming that occurred.

“Oh I’m sorry, I don’t have anything to drink here.” She said absentmindedly.

“But didn’t you offer me something to drink?” He asked her, quite confused at this point.

“Did I? I really don’t remember me saying such. After all it is awfully rude of you to enter my house uninvited and to demand something to drink from your hostess! Where did you learn your manners?” Traci demanded.

“I’m awfully sorry for disturbing you, ma’am. But I was told from Dorian that I could obtain a pill from you.” He reiterated.

“Of course you are! You already told me that. Do you think that something is wrong with my hearing? You don’t have to tell me things over and over again. Just because I’m old doesn’t mean that I’m senile, you know.” She said indignantly.

Not really knowing what exactly to say, Jamie remained silent and studied the floor. Clasping his hands behind his back, he waited for Traci to initiate the next lines of conversation, lest he anger her again and be refused access to her pill.

“So...” Traci began after a few moments of silence. “Why do you need my services for?”

Jamie looked up hopefully at her. “Well you see, it all started like this...” And he once again began to recount his adventures to her. She let him speak the entire time and didn’t interrupt once. After he finished, Traci leaned back on her chair and thought for a moment.

“Can you help me?” Jamie asked her timidly, after what seemed to him to be an eternity of time.

“Hello?” He asked again as she didn’t respond.

“HELLO?” He asked again loudly.

“What?” She cried out, sitting upright. “Who called?”

Looking around her, she saw Jamie sitting across of her on the other chair. “Who are you and what are you doing in my home? Don’t you know that it is extremely rude to wake me up without my consent young man? Out you go now, scat, scat!”

Jamie stood up confusedly. “But ma’am,” he said shakily, “You asked me how you could help me with my problems.”

“Well I did, did I? I don’t remember such. Perhaps you have been mistaken. Why would I help you?”

“I don’t know.” He mumbled hopelessly.

Traci looked at him with concern. “Well don’t cry now, it’s not becoming of you. Here, I have an idea. You probably won’t believe me but I have this pill that could possibly solve your problem (whatever it is, at least). In exchange for this pill all you have to do is one tiny little favour for me. It’s a miniscule problem, really. Not really worth the effort to solve.”

Jamie sighed. He really didn’t have a choice, so he asked her, “What is the problem?”

Traci responded with all seriousness, “It’s kind of funny, actually. I need you to simply kill my sister.”
Jamie blinked twice. “Kill your sister.” He repeated. “You want me to kill you sister. Right... and why now?”
“Well,” She began, giving him an exaggerated wink, (as if to signify that they were sharing a great secret) “Believe it or not, my sister isn’t exactly the most stable person in the world. You see, they say madness runs through my family, and she had the unfortunate chance of being one of the victims. She lives a few miles east from here and does nothing but collect children to build up as her soldiers. For some reason she calls herself ‘Queen Elizabeth’. Her plan is to force Dorian to start time again in the courtyard, for what reason I do not know why. She is quite a nuisance, and I am also kind of embarrassed to have someone as crazy as her associated with me.”
‘And of course you aren’t insane, you just want to have your slightly deranged sister killed. That seems pretty normal to me.’ He thought to himself sarcastically.
“Oh no, I don’t really want her killed.” Traci said sweetly. “I just want her to stop pestering everyone.”
Stepping back in surprise, Jamie blurted out accusingly, “You read my mind, didn’t you?”
“Well of course I did, dearie. Lets see, what are you thinking about now... you are wondering about how time has been stopped here, haven’t you?”
Jamie nodded in affirmation. “It’s actually quite simple. You see everything you see has something else working to make it there, correct? You believe that everything has a meaning behind it and that everything can be explained. Well the same concept occurs here, it’s just that most of the people in the courtyard don’t really care at all about the explanation of anything, let alone the explanation of everything. Everyone is content with eating their dinner and smoking their pipes that they don’t realize that time doesn’t apply here. But it wasn’t always this way.
“You see everything works here for a while, but eventually it breaks down. Each thing here is connected to something else, the idea of time was connected to the old grandfather clock. The clock itself really was useless, it never kept the time correctly, and it never sounded off at the hour, and when it did sounded off, it was every once in a while, whenever it felt like. So my sister and I decided to see what would happen if we broke it. We threw sticks and stones at it but they were useless. So we decided to break open the faceplate with a hammer. After a few minutes of hammering, we shattered the faceplate but the clock was still ticking. At this point my sister was determined to destroy this clock and she threw the hammer into the clock’s timepiece. As soon as the clock broke, the time stopped.”
Jamie thought about what she said for a couple of seconds. This makes absolutely no sense he thought. I am supposed to trust this woman who says that time is connected to a clock, and when it is broken, time is also ‘broken’. He asked, “So that is why you were banished from the courtyard?”
“No, no. The people of the courtyard were also happy that time stopped at such a convenient time. Since we broke it around dinnertime, no one has to work anymore because it is always time for dinner. My sister got banished for a number of things (I’d rather not say what-it is quite embarrassing) that she did to the people of the courtyard. Because we’re twins and I look like her, the people couldn’t tell who was who. So to be on the safe side they banished both of us.” She concluded happily. “They built me this really nice house for us, though.”