Wristwatch of Perfect Timing

I had to think real hard on this as I wasn't quite real yet when it happened, but his eyes were drawn by the narrow parabola of the peppermint's arc. His breath had caught and his eyes gleamed when the little candy was caught expertly in a laugh by a woman with dark hair, a round face, and eyes displaying a jubilant and kind soul. He was Chris and she, we'd eventually discover, was Monica. She had smiled back at her friends after catching the red and white candy and then saw Chris's goofy look, and her joy had grown into a toothy smile. Then her head tilted and she flashed her invitation. Now, would I choose the smell of fried rice and orange chicken, and the bustle and noise of a loud Chinese restaurant as the backdrop of my meet-cute? No, but when the time is right, it's right. I would know- I'm a wristwatch. Love was in the air, and its magic brought me to life.

It is disorienting to observe things as a watch; I'm constantly in motion. Human hands are more active than mine, reaching, gesturing, touching. I've adapted; I get a pretty good view of what goes on. Chris smiled wider, he straightened his shoulders and adjusted his tie. Monica saw this but pretended not too, turning in preparation for Chris's approach, but leaning nonchalantly against the counter, open to her friends. Chris sauntered past the crowd, used the wall of their bodies to check his breath, and, satisfied, he took the final few steps to Monica. I’ll admit, he pulled it off; he looked confident and attractive which was accentuated by little gold me wrapped around his wrist, and that's when I went off.

I know, I know! I was newly awakened; I didn’t understand what was happening. In my defense, Chris needed to get to that interview. Chris stopped, right in front of her with his face changing from excited anticipation through confusion and into exasperation and nerves as he remembered what my alarm was for. Monica looked slightly confused at the shift, and definitely disappointed. Chris didn't even talk, he only mouthed “I'm sorry” with a small defeated wave of his hand and rushed away.

Later that night Chris was restless. He was frustrated to have missed one opportunity to chase another. His new employer had complimented his punctuality, and if my face could make expressions, Chris would've seen my satisfaction. As he continued padding around the carpeted bedroom, giving my long hand a run for its money, he would constantly pause and stare wistfully out the window and drag his hand over his face. I realized he really liked Monica. I had a feeling the time just wasn't right.

A few weeks later, Chris was out being celebrated by some new friends. It turns out, having perfect timing makes for great market choices, and he'd brought the firm a lot of money. On the way to the bar, he'd eyeballed a few watches through a window, but I wasn't worried, he wouldn't replace his faithful Timepiece. I wasn't jealous of course, they were just clocks with straps. I didn't need the gaudy gems or a large flashy face with easy to read numbers. I was an heirloom. Anyway, Chris was having fun in the bar- it had classy vibes; I fit right in. The murmur of the crowd pleasantly pulsed a conversation with the music, punctuated by the occasional clack of the billiard balls and excited cheers. He was so distracted, he didn't even notice Monica walk in with some of her friends.

Monica's group sat down at a gaggle of loveseats with some colorful drinks in martini glasses. Chris laughed with his buddies. The time was right, so I gave a few chirps to catch Chris's attention. He looked down at me frowning slightly, his eyebrow cocked. Then he pondered if he was missing some appointment or meeting. Shaking his head he looked back to his friends, laughing at their joke.

The time was slipping away. I chirped my alarm again, more urgently this time. Chris looked down again, confused, but this time his gaze was pointed appropriately and my face lit up, which is quite the feat considering I'm analog, a mirror to his as he saw Monica. Chris didn't notice my glow.

Chris leapt up, wobbling slightly into the high top next to them in his excited and partially inebriated state. He took a second and gathered himself as his friends looked on. They asked what he was doing, they'd just gotten a fresh pitcher. “I've got to go see about a girl!” He said. Monica’s glass was half empty.

They laughed, and his boss, James, stood to meet him, shaking his hand he said, “Well maybe this will help catch her eye!” He reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a sleek black box large enough to hold a few decks of cards. My hands twitched, time was wasting! He said, “We like to give our people a gift after their first 50K brought in. Usually it takes much longer, but you have the beat of the market better than anyone I've ever seen. Your timing is perfect!” If a watch could look smug…. Chris smiled widely, and glanced towards where Monica was sitting, his eyes brightening.

“Well open it then! Don't keep us waiting!” James said. Chris smiled again, and weighed the box in his hands, quirking his face playfully at his buddies. The familiarity of the box had me spinning. I didn't want him to open it, but he did. There, wrapped around a white silk pillow, and caressed on all sides by white velvet lining, was a new, large faced, masculine, silver wristwatch.

Surely Chris would hand it back. Thank his boss for the gesture and then present me to the room and declare he already had His watch- the only one he'd ever need.

He didn't.

Monica and her friends toasted and drained the rest of their drinks.

Chris smiled and thanked James profusely for the lovely gift. “Well let's see it on you then!” James roared, eager. Monica grabbed her coat, apparently content with the single drink. Chris laughed nervously, eyeing her across the room and set the box on the table. Then he unclasped me. I spun around his wrist. I was spinning. Chris only took me off to shower and sleep. We'd been together forever.

He dropped me into his coat pocket, and everything was dark. The gentle snap of the clasp thundered around me, prison bars slamming home, as the usurper wrapped Chris’s wrist in an inappropriate hug.

I could hear his friends come and congratulate him. I could feel them jostle him as I swayed in his coat. Each utterance of awe a spear through my clockwork heart. Chris would not be getting any accolades without my help. I felt him walking towards Monica. I felt his shoulders shift as he adjusted his jacket and ran his hand through his hair where, certainly, his new watch flashed in the spot lights around the bar.

I was betrayed. How could he toss me aside so easily- discard me into the dark depths of his coat pocket? He'd probably forget me in here and I'd be hung in the closet to wind down in my ever slowing death. He'd find my corpse later and laugh, “Oh that's where I left it. I used to love this watch.” He'd say.

I couldn't take it. He wouldn't have known about Monica without me. He wouldn't be rocking this new job, or wearing that new watch without me! She was probably almost to the door by now. If he didn’t want me, then he couldn’t have her!

So I broke free. I used his motion and the point of my clasp to cut a hole through his coat, and out I slipped. On to someone who'd cherish me. Good riddance and wasted time to Chris!

Then I was falling. I hadn't thought about the drop in my fury, and since I'd always been so carefully considered in my life, I'd never experienced the hand wringing inertia of free-fall. It was not a pleasant sensation, but it was better than the next two moments: the first, hitting the ground rattled my gears unlike any accidental knocking I'd ever received; the second, the crushing pain of Chris's foot as he stepped upon my prone, vulnerable form. My glass was cracked and the world filled with fractals and my strap was broken as the delicate links fractured in two places. I was broken. I'd been wrong, my death would be fast and in sight of the world on the floor of this bar. Monica had been exiting during my escape, I’d seen her glance back over her shoulder. Chris would leave me to follow his heart, headless of our time together.

Chris stopped, to my surprise, and gingerly retreated a step, looking down at my broken body gasping in despair. He dropped down and gently collected me into his warm hands. Perhaps he was displaying me to his new watch to keep it from getting too full of itself. Instead he whispered to me, “Oh no! I'm so sorry.” His face was filled with sadness, his eyes glistening with tears.

“Are you ok?” small brown hands cradled Chris's as they cradled me. “What happened?” Monica was kneeling in front of Chris. She’d noticed him at the last second and returned in time to see him suddenly drop out of sight in the crowd. Her compassion comforted me as it did Chris.

Chris swallowed and waited a moment to speak, “I'll be ok. This was my great-grandfather's watch. It's been through a lot…” He paused. Encouraged by Monica's patient kindness Chris continued, “It’s been with me since I was ten. When my dad died. It's kind of my lucky charm.” He gulped. “I hope it can be fixed.”

Monica smiled at him and squeezed his hand. “You're in luck. I'm a sucker for a watch.” She gently ran her thumb over my fractured face, “and while your new watch is very nice, I've got a particular soft spot for the classics. This watch caught my eye in the Crystal Lotus. I knew then I should give you a chance, but you left.” She smiled and pulled Chris up by his elbows. “I’m glad to see you again. I can fix it for you.” She carefully took me into her hands and snapped my strap back together. “I think he missed you.” Her laugh was a joyous chime. Chris unsnapped the new watch, dropping it into his other pocket, and returned me to my rightful place.

Monica slid her arm through Chris’s and led them out, gesturing at me, “Now to fix the rest. Would you like to come back to my place? People always asked my grandpa why he bothered fixing old broken watches and he would always say, ‘a good reliable watch was always worth the time.’”