Sorry Chaucer, time does wait for some.

It was 7:30 am and Akun lay on his bedroom floor propped up on his elbows, wrapped in the comforting ignorance of youth, having only seen ten years of the world. This was his favourite time of the day; when everything was silent. He could feel the warmth of the boiler pipes underneath him as they whirred gently, waking up the sleeping house. On this particular morning, his short attention span was completely absorbed in the antique train set he had received on his ninth birthday. His granddad had given him that; his granddad always gave him the best gifts. His sleepy eyes watched the miniature scarlet train as it zoomed along the winding track that he’d spent 15 minutes laying out as complicatedly as he could. The couple rod – or was it ‘coupling rod’? His drowsy brain couldn’t remember now, but whatever the rod connecting the wheels was called spun so fast he could barely keep track of its movements. The locomotive engine, the wheels, the occasional whistle, and the...rods all worked in perfect harmony, just like clockwork. It made him content.

Half an hour passed of Akun being hypnotised by the train’s metronomic rhythm, but as soon as the clock struck eight, his mother came in as she always did, telling him in her chirpy voice to pack away his toys and to get ready. She had rather puffy, red eyes this morning, but that normally happened when his parents had an argument the night before. The puffy eyes were slowly becoming a regular thing.

Luckily for him, it was the summer holidays, so he got to spend as much time as he wanted playing with his train. Even luckier for him, his granddad was coming over today, and that always meant one thing; hours of listening to amazing adventure stories. His dad always made a face whenever he heard he was coming, but Akun loved spending time with his granddad; the very thought of him filled the child with warmth. He quickly pulled on his T-shirt and hopped into the bathroom with one leg in his trousers, forcing the other one in. Once he had ‘freshened up’ as his mother called it, he bounded down the stairs, stopped midway and walked the rest, remembering his father’s irritation at loud noises.

The hour hand had made 5 voyages around the clock face by the time Akun heard the grinding engine of his granddad’s pickup truck outside. It was a busted up vehicle near the end of its days but whenever anyone mentioned this, including Akun’s mother, his granddad always patted the roof and said “I’ve had her for thirty five years! Nothing beats ol’ reliable.” Akun’s father left the house, giving a short nod to his father-in-law before driving away. His son on the other hand, leaped up to the window beaming at their visitor, sticking his nose to the glass for his grandfather to poke on the other side. The old man gave the same wide gap-toothed smile as he always did and playfully poked at the window, before going to hug his daughter.

Akun waited patiently in the living room for his grandfather to whisk him up in his arms and tell him how much he missed his ‘little tiger’, but it seemed like his grandfather was having a long chat with his mother in the kitchen. He could see their blurry figures through the frosted glass. One was holding the other, and judging from the sound of his mother’s stifled sobs it appeared as though his grandfather was the one doing the comforting. That made his chest loosen a little. He didn’t like to see his mother sad, but he knew that everything was going to be okay, because his granddad would know what to do.

After three minutes of listening to muffled conversation, Akun’s attention was drawn to his grandfather’s bag that he’d set down on the sofa. He knew he shouldn’t snoop, but curiosity got the better of him. He slowly moved towards the bag as if it was his prey and he was the predator, just like a little tiger. A small part of him hoped that there might be a present in there for him, but to his disappointment, all he found were stray bits of papers and the worn out golden clock his grandfather always carried with him. He picked it up, feeling the cool brass against his hands, enchanted by the spinning cogs he could see through a hole in the clock face. Tick tick tick. It was flawless; not one thing out of place, everything had its job. Perfection.

Just as he put it back his granddad burst out of the kitchen and grinned. “Ah! Caught you red handed my little tiger!” he laughed, grabbing his grandson, who was now blushing at being caught in the act, and hugging him tight. Once he was free from his grandfather’s grasp, Akun sat cross legged on the floor, waiting for endless tales of heroes and heroines to unfold. However, his granddad ruffled his hair and brought out the golden object again. “Do you know what this is, Akun?”

Akun, slightly disappointed at the direction of conversation shrugged. “A clock?”

“Close, a pocket watch. They do the same thing, but pocket watches are small enough to carry anywhere you go, and I take this beauty everywhere with me, you’ll never see me without it!”

Akun nodded, looking at his granddad clasping the golden pocket watch as if it was the rarest jewel in the world. His irises always sparkled whenever he was excited, and right now it looked like the entire night sky was in his eyes as they shone as bright as a thousand stars.

“Now Akun, this watch is very dear to me. Would you like to know why?”

Having become very intrigued in the object, Akun nodded hard. His granddad always had a way of making anything sound interesting; it was his special gift. He’d told Akun that once. A buzz of excitement ran through the ten year old as his granddad leaned closer and dropped his voice down to a whisper.

“Can you keep a secret?” he asked gravely.

Akun nodded enthusiastically with a serious face, barely able to contain his sudden excitement. After glancing around the room suspiciously as if the walls had ears, his granddad continued.

“This pocket watch has...magical powers.”

Akun’s smile dropped and his eyebrows arched in scepticism, something that was quite amusing for his granddad to see on such a young face. “Seriously, granddad?” he replied, his eyes falling on the watch unimpressed.

“Completely serious, Akun. Do you want to know what power it has?”

Akun hesitated, but nodded.

“It can pause time.” His granddad laughed as though he was still in disbelief of its powers, his eyes no duller than they were before. Contrary to his own excitement, he could see that his grandson still hadn’t taken to the idea, so he pointed to the cylindrical piece sticking out on the side of the clock face. “This is called a crown, and if you press on it and say ‘subsisto’ everything around you will pause. Heck, time itself will stop!”

Akun looked at his granddad, unsure of what to believe. The idea sounded crazy, but his grandfather looked so sure of himself. “I don’t know, granddad…So you’re telling me that if I press that and say ‘subsisto’ right now, everything will stop?” His grandfather nodded in all seriousness. “Really?” Akun giggled. Then, as quick as a flash, he grabbed the watch, and pressed the crown under his thumb shouting “Subsisto!” before his granddad could grab it back.

There was no flash or bang. You could barely notice a change at all. Suddenly everything became quiet, not even the ticking of the clock could be heard. His own breathing was the only sound Akun could hear. His grandfather’s wrinkly mouth was open as if he was about to say something and his outstretched hand was frozen in mid-air. He looked like a frame paused on T.V. Feeling sure that this was all a practical joke, Akun laughed, shaking his grandfather by the shoulders. “Very funny, granddad!” But he didn’t respond. He tried tickling him, but received the same response. Akun sighed at his grandfather’s persistence, and went over to the kitchen to his mother, expecting to find her cleaning or something. But when he opened the door, his heart sunk as he didn’t hear her usual humming and saw that she was standing still at the sink, midway through washing a bowl. Her glistening eyes were gazing out of the window and into the garden, unblinking. “Ma?” he asked, tugging at her apron, but she gave him the same response as his granddad had. Feeling a light sweat coming on, Akun’s eyebrows furrowed in annoyance; this being bred from a growing sense of anxiety. “It’s not funny anymore!” he said loudly, so that both of them could hear.

As he was about to tug his mother again, his eyes caught the soap bubbles in the air. They shimmered in all their holographic glory against the summer sun as usual, the only difference being that they weren’t moving. It was then that Akun realised that his granddad had been telling the truth, and more importantly that he had stopped time. A mixture of feelings dawned on him as he ran around the house, looking at all the clocks, carefully inspecting the second hands for any movement or sound. He looked out of the window and up at the sky. It looked completely normal apart from a single seagull flying, frozen in mid-flap. Akun’s heart began to race as his eyes searched for more. He noticed an old lady and her dog, walking halfway across the road, on the other side stood two people posing as if they'd been talking. It was amazing, incredible and terrifying all at the same time. He felt like an explorer in the jungle, nervous of what he would find but thrilled to the bone.

Akun walked over to his grandfather and stared at him. The wrinkles on his face reminded him of the cracks in the Grand Canyon he had told him about in stories. He touched his outstretched hand; it felt stiff. His veins bulged out like snakes wriggling under a blanket. Akun sat on the floor beside him and leaned his head on his knee, trying to make sense of what he had just discovered.

A period of something that wasn’t time passed by as Akun sat thinking until it all became too much for his ten-year-old mind to handle. The silence was becoming eerie and he started to crave sound, any sound at all. Then, all at once, any feeling of awe he had shattered, and was replaced by a dark sense of fear. How was he going to press play again? He could feel a sharp prickly sensation on his skin as his face grew hotter. He turned to his sculpture like grandfather “Oh no! Granddad, help me! How do I turn it off? Granddad!” he cried, fumbling about with the watch in his clammy hands. A sense of desperation overwhelmed him as he felt a strong urge to cry. He didn’t feel like an explorer anymore. He tried pressing the crown again and again but nothing happened. Then he attempted pressing down on it for a long time, but again, nothing changed. A tear rolled down his cheek as he frantically prodded the stubborn watch, realising that he could be frozen in time forever. Whilst in this frenzy, he had managed to twist the crown a full rotation clockwise and it was this movement that broke life out of its temporary lull.

“No Akun!” his granddad said, reaching for the watch. But as he took it away from him, he saw Akun standing in shock with streams of tears rolling down his face. His granddad paused, looking at him and then realised what had happened. “Oh, Akun. You paused time didn’t you?” he said smiling. Akun quickly wiped his face and nodded, waves of relief washing over him as he realised that life had resumed again. His granddad, sensing the poor boy’s distress, rubbed his back and put him on his knee. “It can be scary the first time, huh?”

“I wasn’t scared.” Akun quickly retorted, not meeting his grandfather’s gaze. His grandfather laughed and patted his head.

“Okay, well do you want to do it again – with me this time?” he asked gently.

Akun aggressively shook his head. “No granddad, I never want to do that again!” he said seriously. 

“Don’t worry Akun, I’ll be with you this time. I’ll show you the beauty of it, just watch. Come on little tiger, I thought you liked adventure!” he said holding his hand out.

Akun paused, shifting uncomfortably. They could both hear the sound of his mother’s humming from the kitchen while Akun made up his mind. He hesitantly took his grandfather’s hand and closed his eyes.

“Subsisto.”

A veil of silence cloaked the world as time stopped again once more. Scared that his granddad might be frozen, Akun slowly opened his eyes. But, to his relief, his granddad was just as mobile as him.

“See, that wasn’t so bad now was it? Now let’s go out and explore this frozen world like real time travellers, eh?” his grandfather declared. Akun broke into a small smile; his granddad was right, he didn’t feel as scared as he had been before. “Everything will be alright, come on.”. And just like real conquistadors, the pair walked out into an unknown world where time didn’t exist, spending most of the day laughing at people’s silly poses, basking in eternal sunshine and eating as many ice creams as they could until their throats became sore. Akun loved it and felt a surprisingly strong feeling of sadness come over him when his granddad said they should get back. Despite all of Akun’s protests they made their way home.

When they got back, his granddad packed away all his things except from the watch. “There are rules for everything Akun.." he began, showing him the watch. ".. Even time. You can’t stay frozen forever, it’s important that the natural course of time takes place. Although you can have fun with it, the watch must be used in consideration and for good.”

“Have you always used it for good, granddad?” Akun asked, looking up at him.

His granddad cleared his throat and laughed. “Well mainly… I mean I’ve nipped the odd ice cream here and there, but generally I’ve used it to slow life down when it all gets too much. And let me tell you, I’ve had this since I was about your age, so I’ve had plenty of time to enjoy still life’s peace and quiet. In fact, I’ve had so much that I think it’s time to hand it over to you now.”

Akun’s eyes widened as his grandfather handed him the pocket watch. “But granddad-"

“No buts! My grandfather gave it to me, and now it’s your turn little tiger!” he said hugging him tight. Akun laughed.

“Thanks granddad!” he smiled, burying his face into the shoulder that he’d always found comfort in whenever he needed it.

His granddad stood up and slung his bag over his shoulder. “Go on then, show me how you un-pause time.” He said looking down at the mesmerised child. Akun twisted the crown and waited.

His mother’s humming could be heard from the kitchen again. Time had resumed.

“I’m going now love!” his granddad called to Akun’s mother in the kitchen.

“Okay, bye dad!” she replied, still washing the same dishes for what now seemed like an age to her son.

As Akun’s granddad opened the front door he turned back briefly. “And remember, if you misbehave with it, I’ll know! I know all the tricks in the book!” he warned, before leaving. The ten year old stood looking down at the golden watch. This might have been the best gift his granddad ever gave him. He had given him a piece of nature.

As his life progressed, Akun held the watch very dear to him. It helped him cause childish mischief at school – something which, as his grandfather said he would, reprimanded him for. It also gave him comfort when he heard his parents’ routine arguments; he had discovered a peace which he had never known until then. As he grew older, he used it to pause both beautiful and sad moments in his life. He watched time unravel and then took a step back to take it all in; his marriage, the birth of his children, the death of his mother. Nothing ever made sense again, but nothing made more sense to him than this. Whenever he did lose his way however, or before any great decision in his life, it was always his granddad he would go to. They would sit together in no one but each other’s company enjoying timeless moments in their own secret world. Time waited for no one but them.

***

Akun looked up at the sky, wrapped in the assuring sagacity of experience. His eyes that had seen much more than the 67 years of the world that his age had, fell on the front door of his son’s house. When he knocked, he was greeted by a hug from his ten year old granddaughter. He laughed as he was tugged into the living room. “Tell me more of those stories, grampa!” she pleaded with the same look of bursting adoration he had in his eyes 57 years ago.

“I was thinking of telling you something a little different today, Marnia.” He smiled, lowering his voice to whisper. She clambered onto his lap and nodded.

“Okay.”

Akun smiled, looking around to check if the coast was clear. “Can you keep a secret?”