The Watch

Out of everything, I couldn't believe I forgot my damn watch. I sighed deeply and stared out the window of the bus. I saw the reflection of the old woman across the aisle, she was staring at me. I really didn’t feel like dealing with her, I had enough to worry about.

 I just went home to visit last week. I thought about calling and having Mom send it to me instead, but I knew she’d beg and plead with me to come back. Might as well cut out the middleman. I would make it a quick trip. Go home, find my watch, have dinner there to appease my mother, and then go back tonight. In and out.

My friends asked me before I left why I didn’t just leave it there if I hated going home. Pick it up during the next holiday or something, but I couldn’t. My boyfriend had given me that watch for our one year anniversary. It was an old-looking pocket watch, he knew I hated fancy things. He had it inscribed just for me. It was special to me, how could I leave it in that house of all places.

I didn’t tell my boyfriend about the trip. I would only be gone one day and I didn’t want him knowing I’d forgotten it. I was ashamed. How could I ever lose something so important to me? George didn’t make a lot at his job, and I knew this watch wasn’t cheap. How long had he saved for it? Only for me to leave it behind like it was nothing.

The brakes of the bus suddenly squeaked us to a halt. This was the stop. I stepped off the bus and onto the dirt road. Almost no one came to this stop, so it was pretty isolated. I’d be walking for a minute. Our house was in the farmlands. Not really too far from town, but it would still take a good thirty minutes or so before I got there. I started walking in that direction.

I hated going home. Getting into college was the best thing to ever happen to me. My mother was happy for me, but my father was still old-fashioned. A woman’s job is to cook, clean, and raise the kids. Why would I waste money going to college? Why was I trying to act like I was better than them?

It was that kind of attitude that made me stay away from home as much as I could. If it wasn’t for that stupid Thanksgiving break I wouldn’t even need to be here. I had gotten into an argument with my father at breakfast and wanted to get out of the house as quickly as possible. I’d formed the habit of putting the watch next to me when I slept so it was like George was there, but in my hurry, I overlooked it while packing. I can’t even begin to describe my panic when I realized I’d left it.

I looked around at the scenery. At least it was a mild fall, not too cold yet. As I got further from the edge of town it also became quieter, only the rustle of dead leaves in the breeze. It really was peaceful here. As much as I said I hated home, the truth was I didn’t. I loved home. I loved the farm with its wide-open fields, I loved the rustic charms of our farmhouse, I loved waking up to the sounds of animals and the smell of home-cooked meals. I just hated him. Maybe when my father died I could come back. I hoped my parents wouldn’t sell the farm before then.

I knew if I asked George he would love the idea. He had always been more of an outdoor type. He loved telling me stories about helping on his grandfather’s farm as a child. They were fond memories of his. He was really suited for that kind of work too. If we got married someday, then it would only make sense he would take over our farm. I blushed a little at the idea of George and me getting married.

George was the exact opposite of my father. He barely drank, he would never hit his wife or child, he would never say a woman’s only purpose was to pop out children and raise them like chickens. George wasn’t really an academic person, he barely graduated high school, but he was more than supportive of my goals. He said all the time how proud he was of me and how hard I was working. He really loved me, I could tell that. Absolutely, I could see myself marrying him.

As the silhouette of the farmhouse appeared in the distance dread began to fill me. Maybe, if I was lucky, my father would already be at the bar. If that was the case I could be out of here before he stumbled home dead drunk in the middle of the night. At least my mother would be glad I was back so soon. Or so I thought.

As I approached the house, something seemed wrong. The fence was practically in splinters, a couple of the windows looked cracked, and the house itself seemed as if it would collapse at any moment. What had happened? I was just here last week. I ran inside the house, the front door was open and barely hanging onto the doorframe.

“Mom! Mom!” I called out.

It only echoed through the empty house. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. Panic set in. What was going on? It looked like this place had been abandoned for years. Where was everyone? What happened to everything?

My mind suddenly jumped back to my watch. That was really what was important to me right now. I had to find the watch before George found out, I could figure the rest out later. I knew my mother, as soon as she saw it she would have put it somewhere safe. Somewhere my father wouldn’t find it. Where was safe though? I pulled open some old drawers and felt around through the cobwebs, but I couldn’t find anything. Where would she put it? Where was it? What would I tell George if I couldn’t find it?

“Grandma!” A voice cried.

I turned around. There, standing in the doorway, was George. I was happy to see him, but at the same time, I wondered how he found me.

“George,” I said. “How did you know I’d be here?”

George looked at me sadly and pulled a weird, plastic-looking box out of his pocket.

“Did you find out about the watch?” I asked, panicked. “Oh Georgie, I’m so sorry. I was careless. I promise once I find it I’ll never lose it again. That little watch means more to me than anything else in this world.”

I was almost in tears. George sighed and reached into his pocket, he pulled out my watch. I gasped.

“George, you found it! Was it by the entrance?” I asked, taking it from him.

He poked at the little box a couple times and put it to his ear.

“Dad,” he said gently, “I found her.”

Who was he talking to? I looked around, but no one was there. 

“No, you were right. She was at the farmhouse,” he said. He paused a moment. “Yeah, just a little dirty from searching for it. She thinks I’m Grandpa again.”

What was he doing exactly? Talking to his father? And what was this about his grandfather?

George let out a deep sigh before poking the little box and putting it back in his pocket. His eyes looked sad. Guilt filled me again. He came all this way just to find me. Such a good man, I didn’t deserve him.

“George, I’m so sorry,” I muttered sadly, looking away.

“It’s okay, Gra-” he paused, “Mabel,” he said, putting his arm around me. “You’re safe, that’s all that matters. Let’s go back now.”

He led me out of the house and down the road. Someone had parked some strange looking car there, must have been a foreign model. I smiled down at the watch. I opened it and read the inscription:

George and Mabel 1964: A love that lasts a lifetime.

I clutched it close to my heart. A love that lasts a lifetime. As I walked with him I was sure it was. This was the man of my dreams, the man I would marry, and I would never forget this day.