The Place Time Forgot
[Or flip-flop]
Meandering through the Appalachian Mountains is
a state route that is exclusively traveled by the very lost. Squatting
alongside this road is a dusty antiques shop. It is in this antiques shop that
Time finally caught up with Mr. Phillip D. Félope.
At first Mr. Félope had thought it no more than
a chill breeze that caused hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end but as
he straightened his aged and aching back he glanced at his watch.
Phillip D. Félope didn't know why he did this,
the hands had not moved in... Well, no one really knows how long. Yet he found
his tired eyes focusing on the watch, regarding it old face to old face. His
breath caught. The second hand was moving; gliding along in that otherworldly
way that only very expensive old Rolexes do, daring his frail bones to do the
same.
He did his best, striding across the jumbled antiques of the shop Phillip made for a glass case that stood by the door. Mr. Phillip D. Félope was concerned but choosing not to panic. A man does not live to the extreme old age that Phillip D Félope has without gaining a little wisdom. That wisdom was telling him not to panic. Yet.
It might pass. He told
himself. He reminded himself that he had chosen to open the shop because he had
heard that it was exactly the sort of place time passed by. And so it had for
quite a long time. But now? Why Now? His
mind was beginning to race as he reached the case. Resting his wrinkled hands on
the musty glass he peered in. Within sat four rows of assorted timepieces. Wristwatches
and pocket watches sat staring up at him. Were they moving? Phillip D. Félope
couldn't tell through the dust. He closed his eyes and pressed his ear to the
case.
Tick tick tick tick tick tic-
He straightened from the case, his brow
furrowing. It was time for action and despite uncounted spans of sedentary life
Phillip D. Félope was still a man of action. He moved to a rickety coatrack
that leaned precariously beside the door. Took a walking stick off a hook and
then a worn, wide brimmed fedora. Placed the first on his head and held the
other firmly in his hand. A moment later he was rubbing a bump on his head and
reversed the items. Phillip then crossed away from the door passing several
grandfather clocks and slid a window open. Time always had an eye on doors. You
could lose as much as 3 minutes just by exiting a door. Not a noticeable amount
of time to most, but enough time to allow the pasta you were cooking to boil
over, or be the difference between on time and late, or perhaps, thought Phillip D. Félope, life or death.
There was one loud tick, a half a pause like an
inhalation of breath, and just as the clocks began to chime Phillip Félope
slipped out the window and reentered the world.
The lush green of the mountains around Phillip Félope
seemed unchanged from his memories of before. He checked his watch. Hmm, Before, when Lucy gave him this
watch. His wrist had looked much younger then. He could still see her hands as
she slipped it around his wrist, told him to find some time for her, fastened
the clasp, and left.
Phillip cleared his throat and shook his head
slightly to clear away the memory. He regarded the woods with a grimace. Too
dangerous, travel any distance among these beautiful trees and time will just
fly by.
There was a flash of light. It was the sun
glinting off a shiny car as it came in and out of view through the trees. Perfect. Phillip made his way to the
edge of the road in front of the shop and as the car came back in view it
slowed to a stop just in front of Phillip. Phillip began to cross to the
driver’s side but the passenger window slide down despite there being no one
occupying that seat. Phillip grunted to himself. Time. He thought, or perhaps said, because a voice came from inside
the car,
“excuse me? What was that?”
The voice sounded polite and as Phillip Félope
bent down to look across to the driver he found him to be a very polite looking
young man. Phillip peered at him doing everything he could to keep his face
placid and not think about how much time he had left despite the fact the he
could feel the restored life coursing though the watch on his wrist.
After a moment of silence the young man spoke
again,
“um okay. Do you know how to get to the
interstate from here?”
“Yes” replied Phillip, despite having no idea
what an interstate might be. “I’ll take you” he added and reached for the door,
pulled it open, and sat down before the polite young man could get out another
“Um okay”
“Turn around” instructed Phillip.
“Yes I thought it might be back the way I came,”
returned the Young Man, again really quite politely.
And so the car was reversed and turned, and
forward, and turned.
“What is your name?” inquired the Young Man.
“Mr. Phillip D. Félope”
“Mr. Flipflop?” The Young Man asked with the
politest of tones that said oh please do
correct me if I am pronouncing it incorrectly
Phillip grunted and the Young Man introduced
himself but Phillip wasn’t listening. He was thinking. This was perfect. The
painfully slow passage of time that comes from being in a car with a stranger
just might get him… where? Where was he going? The only thing he knew was to
get lost. He had really thought he had found the place that Lucy would return
to.
“That’s a pretty neat old watch what kind is-”
“It was a gift, it is personal, and don’t look
at It. I mean I’d rather not talk about it” interrupted Phillip trying to keep
the desperation out of his voice. He mustn’t encourage anything that would pass
the time: no music, and absolutely no small talk. Despite himself Phillip
glanced at his watch; the second hand was speeding around the face. Damn. He didn’t have much time and for
some reason being in this car was only accelerating it. Phillip’s head was
spinning and he could feel sweat beading on his wrinkled brow. He took his hat
off and fanned himself with it. There was a sharp painful lurching inside his
chest as if his heart had decided to kick one of his ribs.
“Stop, let me out” Phillip moaned
“What was that” The young man’s voice was
confused and concerned.
“NOW!” bellowed Phillip. The car came to a
screeching halt and Phillip burst out the door, immediately collapsing to his
knees. His vision was swimming
“What’s happening?!” cried the Young Man from
inside the car.
“I’m…” Mustn’t
name it “Going mad” Phillip lied, must
get away from him “and I’m dangerous” Phillip D Félope reached behind him
and, gripping the door jab, summoned his strength, spun around, and hurled his
walking stick at the young driver. There was a shriek and as the car peeled
away the door slammed against on Phillip’s hand.
Phillip D. Félope staggered away from the road.
No longer caring about the danger of these beautiful woods.
Cursing, sweating, and cradling his now
bleeding hand, Phillip burst into a clearing and collapsed panting. Tears
swelled in his eyes a combination of frustration and misery. Phillip D. Félope
then did something that he had never done before with his time. He simply took
some. He thought of all the ways he had filled his time as a young man, not
wanting any of it to be wasted. It all had to mean something, build up to
something. Then he thought of his time after Lucy left and how bitterly he had
tried to cheat time. Then after the anger and bitterness had faded came his
ages of hiding from time. Just trying to fall through the cracks long enough
for her to find him.
His tears fell upon the face of the watch all
the hands slowly moving to join together.
Phillip raised his head, his breath slowly becoming
more even, and as his eyes cleared he finally saw that he was not the only
thing in the clearing. There was a house.
Again Phillips breath caught. The house was
old. Two stories in the Victorian style and there wasn’t a wall that was clear
of climbing ivy, the boards of the large front porch were beginning to rot or
split.
Phillip was drawn towards the house. First
crawling then scrabbling to his feet he reached the steps of the porch. The
front door was standing open. Had he not
noticed that or was it shut before?
As Phillip D. Félope gingerly climbed the steps
a light seemed to grow inside the doorway. For some reason the light made him
fell safe and sad. Tears once more came to his eyes.
As he crossed the threshold the light seemed to
spill down from a stairway just in front of him. There was a very quiet click
and then a soft thud. Phillip stopped and glanced down to see his watch lying
face up on the floorboards next to his foot. A small smile came to his lips.
The hands were stopped.
The sound of creaking boards came from the top
of the stairs causing Phillip to look up from his watch. Phillip D. Félope’s
smile spread slowly across his face. A woman’s voice said.
“Hello Phil”
