Randolph Walker was a quiet man. 45 years old. No wife. No kids. Lived a pretty listless life, except for his very ridged time schedule. He would wake up at 6 am, and stretch for about a minute. The coffee maker was set to turn on at 6:05, at which time he knew it would take about five minutes, so he'd get a quick shower, get out, dry off, get dressed, and put on his favorite watch, an old Waltham pocket watch, by the time the last bit had been poured. After a few cups of coffee, he'd make a sandwich, bag it, and, checking his watch and winding it, was out the door to catch the bus at the bus stop by 6:30. The bus would pick him, and he would be at work at the antique shop, Hidden Gems, he worked at by 7.
Mr. Randal, the shop owner, would have the door unlocked by this time, and Randolph would walk in and turn the sign around to OPEN. "Mornin' Walker," the old man would say shuffling to the back. "Good morning Mr. Randal," he'd say walking behind the counter. At 11:30 he would eat his sandwich on the bench in front of the store, listening to the birds it being Spring time and hoping to catch a glimpse of Heather, a woman his age who worked at the shoe store two doors down. She was remarkable he thought to himself watching her as she'd set out shoes to be displayed. Long brown hair, great smile, and beautiful eyes.. but they'd never said more than ten words to each other in the four years she worked at the shoe store. Looking at his watch, he'd walk back in the store at 11:55.
At 2:45 he'd wind his watch again and check the store for anyone who might still be looking for something. By 3 he would turn the sign back to CLOSED, lock the door, and help the old man in the back part of the shop if there was anything that needed done, which usually wasn't much. By 3:15 he was waiting on the bus which would show up at 3:18. He'd take the short ride to his home and at 4:45 was making his dinner which consisted on a can of soup and some crackers. At 6 he would watch the news, and then read til 9 when he would get ready for bed. He had this same schedule for 15 years.
One day as he was getting ready to go to work as usual he looked at his pocket watch and noticed it wasn't working. He wound it and nothing happened. Shook it and nothing. Waves of fear and paranoia coursed through his body. How would he know the time? If he went off the clock in the square, would it be right? It might not be set right, or could be off! Maybe Mr. Randal would know what to do he thought. Walking out the door he sees the bus pass and runs panicked for the bus stop. Out of breath he watches it take off and runs to the back banging on the doors. The driver stops and opens the doors, and suddenly he realizes he'd forgotten to make something for lunch as he slumps into a seat disgusted and wondering what will happen next. Finally making it to the shop he tries to walk in the door, and is abruptly stopped because it's still locked. This is strange he thinks to himself when he notices a small white corner of an envelope under the welcome mat.
He flips the mat back and, getting the envelope, opens it to find a note and a key. The note reads, 'Walker.. the key is for you to get in the store. I'm taking a break for a few days. Take care of the store for me. Mr. Randal' This seemed odd, since the old man had never taken a day off in his life, and what was he going to about his watch? Unlocking the door and flipping the sign, he sighs and walks in just as thunder claps in the distance. The rain came harder that day than any he'd ever seen. Not many people came in, and by what he thought was lunch time, he was starving. As the rain came down he looked at his watch that no longer worked, "Is it going to do a trick?" he hears a man's voice say startling him. When he looks up he sees a man dressed in black wearing a black wool car coat. Now, it's isn't what he's wearing, or the way he looks, but the fact that he's bone dry coming in from a horrible storm.
"Excuse me?" Randolph asks him. The man walks closer and smiles, "I said is it going to do a trick? I noticed you were concentrating on the watch pretty hard." "Yeah," he says laughing slightly, "somethings wrong with it and.." the man reaches out and picks it up. "Please.. be careful with that. It's.."
"It's a Waltham "Crescent Street" model 1908," the man says looking at it and back at him. He opens up the back and looks at it, "and it's broken," he says handing him the watch back. Distraught about the news, thunder hits in the distance. "I have something here you might be interested in," the man says going into his pocket and pulling out a pocket watch. It had three numbers on one side, three on the other, and looked to be very old. "Here," the man says handing him the watch, "look at it." Randolph looks at it in amazement. "I've never seen anything like it," he says almost breathless.
"Not many people have," the man says smiling. "It was made by an English clock maker named Thomas Tompion.. in 1677. That's the year I bought it."
Randolph looks at the man like he's crazy. "I think you'd better take your watch and leave," he says.
"Not before I speak my peace," the man says walking around the counter. "You've lived most of your life watching it go by.. I'm going to give you the opportunity to change all that."
"But that's impossible," he says shaking his head, "time doesn't work that way."
The man laughs aloud, "Time is something that exists as moments put together, almost like a web. This watch allows you to skip parts of that web.. some entirely. You can go anywhere. Enjoy historical moments like the building of the pyramids, or watch Beethoven's 9th on the night of it's premire.. just don't interupt your life or the lives of others. Those are the rules."
Randolph looks at the watch and back at the man, "How long do I have with the watch?" He asks him.
"I'll be back for it tomorrow," the man says walking toward the door.
"Tomorrow? But that's not enough time," Randolph says almost whining.
The man laughs and looks back at him as he opens the door. "Make time," he says and walks out.