A Life Change

In my story ‘The Clock House,’ a future Timekeeper lost his job. I decided to do a follow-up story when my meet-up writing group presented me with the challenge theme: Life. The following plausibility may have happened to Delbert:

The ChronoScope projector on Delbert’s living room mantle didn’t tick like the last outdated clock of the world, it pulsed. When activated, it would display to the user 3 separate dimensional images of the viewers life. Each image presented velocity, or youth years, then gravity, the middle age of life, and plausibility, the unwritten likelihood of an outcome in life. This phenomenon was similar to having your life flash before your eyes.   

All former Timekeepers received a ChronoScope projector. Many like Delbert, found the concept of not relying on time hard to accept. They believed time kept the world on track, compensating for irregularities in the universe. Delbert showed his loyalty to time keeping by working and living in a two story Clock house for many years until time was decentralized. Time became a fading past. Humans forty years old barely remembered what a digital clock was. Analog time was lost to everyone under twenty years of age. But Delbert remembered. He remembered his sacrifices to time.

The World authorities insisted he view his life using the CSP. An enforcer could show up to verify he complied, but he didn’t know when since time wasn’t used anymore.

“Enforcement will come when the internal process of verifying regulation was due,” he mocked.

Lighting up an unfiltered cigarette, he sat on his couch. Sitting silent, he blew smoke from his lungs that filled the room.

“Something important as time is taken away, but these cancer sticks are still here and haven’t changed in a hundred years,” he lamented ironically. Delbert turned on the CSP with a wave of his hand.

It began to pulse with the rhythm of a heartbeat, controlling all technology within reach. The room’s overhead ceiling light dimmed as the projector’s lens beamed out a 3-dimensional image of Delbert during his youth in an educational setting. A familiar background consisting of a whiteboard, desk, and chairs materialized in the middle of the living room. The images appeared real enough to touch. His mind recalled how he was taught life was a linear march towards a goal, but concentric obstacles like the rings of an ancient redwood would impede his progress. He was viewing youth velocity, chasing after his dreams measured by achievements, milestones, and ambition.      

Then came the middle years, the gravity. Delbert felt the tug of a child’s hand around his finger, but the vision of a Timekeeper’s career became the priority. A soft touch to his hand; was it a woman’s? He watched the high-resolution image of a wife and children begin to fade away. To him they were white noise, noisy distractions as he focused his life on time keeping.

“I gave my life to be a Timekeeper,” he declared.

The room began to spin and settle on a golden hue. Delbert sat in his living room holding a burned-out cigarette. The CSP was starting a current likelihood life vision, plausibility. He lit another cigarette.

The two-story Clock house he lived in materialized, revealing a sign stating the property was a historic landmark and was a protected site. Delbert watched an image of himself throw a flaming object at his former home, laughing as it burned. Then a 3-dimensional image of a prison cell constructed of concrete and steel made its appearance. It had solid metal doors with bars. Delbert could smell the stale air and body odors of surrounding inmates. He was told by World authorities that time was not used in sentences anymore. He would be detained until ‘the walls crumble,’ meaning his sentence was tied to the physical walls of the building. As long as they stay structurally compliant he would remain in jail. These last images faded away as the ceiling light above his head returned to normal brightness.

Delbert smoked another cigarette as he watched a spider weave a web on his living room mantle. It was a fragile intricate masterpiece destined to be swept away by the next automated cleaning cycle, yet built with total devotion nonetheless. Anger enveloped him as he rose from the sofa. He drove his foot through the web, smashing the spider with a foot twist.

“I get it! I get it! Damn you all!”he screamed.

Delbert finally accepted that his life as a Timekeeper was over, even though he was devoted. The CSP showed him the likelihood of his final days of life if he continued holding a grudge against the World authorities.

“I’ll make the best of it,” he said out loud.

‘I’m renting a nice apartment home with a twentieth-century style tile bathroom. It’s like the one I was thinking of before I found this place, along with the redwood tree by the front window,’ he thought. Ex-Timekeepers have the option of finding another job or retiring.

‘I’m going to tell the World authorities I’m officially retiring, he thought. The CSP convinced Delbert to enjoy the rest of his life free and unburdened with time. 

“I wonder when the World authorities will verify I’ve complied with their wishes,” he spoke quietly under his breath. At that moment, the ChronoScope projector began a quiet pulse.

Looking at the device in utter dismay, Delbert realized the enforcers already knew.

The End?