Father Time

Father Time was dead. But it would be hours and hours before the first whispers of concern reached the Department for Secondary Reclamation, where Ruby worked as a Junior Clerk.

She’d been there a month; a long month. She knew she should feel proud to have been chosen to help gather up all the unused, wasted seconds so they could be recycled. But she'd soon discovered that whilst a lot of time is wasted, hardly ever is it not used at all.

She missed her old job. Most people wouldn’t like shovelling up mouse poo all day. But Ruby had loved it. She’d loved it because she could watch the mice running on the huge wheels as she worked. And their excitement when a huge gloopy deluge of chocolate sauce and peanut butter came down the chutes, and splattered them in delicious goo, always made her giggle.

Like most people, Ruby didn’t really know how important the mice were. Most of the mice didn’t know how important they were.

The morning ticked slowly on. Ruby stretched and looked up from her desk. The large clock on the wall told her (in the whining, high pitched voice that all the building’s clocks used) that it was only eleven O’clock.

“Are you sure?”, she asked it.

“Oh, yes”, said the clock, slowly. “Well, actually, now it’s eleven O’clock and about ten seconds.”

Ruby looked back at her desk despondently, and at the pile of paper stacked beside her computer. Days in the Department for Secondary Reclamation never passed quickly, but this morning had been the worst ever! She felt like a snail towing a caravan. 

Father Time was dead. But time doesn’t just stop. Time is a huge, colossal, mammoth thing, and it would take time to wind down. But wind down it would. Slower, and slower the seconds would beat until, eventually, with a last ponderous tick from the clocks, a final breath of air, time would finally, completely…. stop. And with it, the world.

Ruby didn’t know that yet. She just knew that the morning had really, really dragged. 

Lunchtime finally, warily, arrived. She listened impatiently as the clock counted the final seconds down: “Eleven fifty-nine and fifty-seven seconds, eleven fifty-nine and fifty-eight seconds.” The clock stifled a yawn. “Eleven fifty-nine and fifty-nine seconds. Twelve O’clock.”   

“Finally!” 

Released at last from the morning’s boredom, Ruby got up from her desk. Down the corridor, the lift bonged to announce its arrival. Normally it pinged, but today it bonged; a long tremulous bong. Perhaps, she thought, someone had changed the tone.

She ran for it, with the strangest feeling she was running in slow motion, and arrived before the glass doors had fully opened. She got in the lift and waited impatiently as the other occupant, and old man in a grey uniform, slowly raised a hand and pressed the button for the 460th floor.

“460” confirmed the lift in a dull, mechanical voice. “Canteen and toilets.” The doors slid together slowly, and they began their ascent. Through the glass, Ruby could see the building’s floors flow past, one after another, after another, after another. 

She mostly just saw empty corridors. As the lift climbed, the corridors became wider, but nothing else changed very much. On one floor, she caught the briefest glimpse of a minor Big Wig talking to a group of gloomy looking people. It was strange, she thought, that she didn’t normally have time to notice such details. 

Then, as the lift passed through another corridor, Ruby saw something very strange. Very strange indeed. Wrong, in fact.

As quickly as she could, she reached past the old grey suit and slammed the stop button. 

“Ouch”, said the lift grumpily. “Do you have to be so violent?” Nevertheless, it stopped, with the slightest shudder, and the doors slid slowly open again.

She left the lift, noting that she was on the 425th floor. Which meant that what she’d seen had been 450 floors above the Wheelhouse! She hurried down the corridor to the slide, her legs feeling strangely heavy. What was wrong with her today? Come to think of it, what was wrong with everyone? A woman approaching from the other direction was swinging her arms as if striding, but moving as slowly as a slug through mud. 

Something very strange was going on.

Ruby clambered onto the first slide and sludged down it. On the next, she used her arms to propel herself, but with little effect; even the slides seemed slow. She got up, glanced at the number on the wall to confirm she was on floor 423, and stumbled back towards the lifts.
             
She rounded the corner - and stopped. She had not been wrong. Unnoticed by the other people in the building, there, on the floor, in the shadow of a bench, was one of the mice.    

She crouched down and reached under the bench to gently stroked the little thing’s smooth, wrinkled skin. It shivered under her touch, so at least it wasn’t dead. 

“Are you OK?” she asked gently. The mouse opened it eyes and looked up at her uncertainly. “I won’t hurt you”, she added. 

“That’s good to know”, said the mouse quietly. “But not very important.”

“What do you mean?” The day was becoming more peculiar by the minute!

“Father Time!”, whispered the mouse.

“What about him?”

“Shhh!” The mouse hissed and pointed, and Ruby turned just in time to see a Big Wig appear from the corner ahead. He was wearing a purple gown, like a monk’s cassock, but the most noticeable thing about him, of course, was his wig. It was piled on top of his head in multi-coloured, curled, bun-like stacks that almost reached the ceiling and wobbled precariously as he walked slowly towards them. 

Ruby wondered what such a Big Wig was doing this far down in the building. 

“Don’t let it find me!” whispered the mouse with sudden urgency.   

“I won’t.” She sat on the bench to hide the mouse from view and then, pretending to fasten her shoe, she quickly grabbed it, lifted her trousers and tucked it into her sock. She stood up just as the Big Wig reached her.

“Good morning sir”, she stammered, bowing slightly. But the Big Wig seemed hardly to notice her. It strutted on down the corridor, slowly flapping its hands and murmuring to itself, “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!”.

Ruby didn’t know what was going on, but she was determined to find out, and it seemed that the mouse might have some answers.

“Floor 425.” A new lift arrived, sounding even grumpier than the last. It was empty. Good. Feeling the mouse secure in her sock, Ruby got in and pressed the button to close the doors. There was a long pause before the lift responded. “Come on!” whispered Ruby under her breath. “Come on!” 

“Patience” said the lift, in a dull voice, and the doors started to draw together. When, finally, they were shut, Ruby reached into her pocket and pulled out a card. She wasn’t supposed to still have it. But, somehow, she’d not been able to bring herself to give it up when her job changed.

She knew that to return the Wheelhouse could get her into a lot of trouble, but what else could she do? That’s where the mouse belonged.

With a little sigh, she slipped the card into a special slot at the bottom of the wall of numbers. 

“As you wish”, groaned the lift, and immediately it lurched to the left. Even though it did so more slowly than usual, or perhaps because it did so more slowly than usual, the weird movement nearly threw her off her feet. 

As the view outside the lift descended into darkness, she knelt down and peeled back the top of her sock. The mouse emerged, holding its nose.

“I am never eating cheese again”, it spluttered. 

“Oh, sorry.” She tried to sniff her feet. “Is it that bad?”

“Worse than rotten camembert!”

Ruby reddened slightly. “Sorry”, she said, sitting down beside the hairless little thing.

The lift suddenly shifted again and began its descent.

“What are you doing?!”, the mouse cried pitifully. “We’re going the wrong way!”

Ruby looked confused. “I’m taking you home.”

“Pah! Home indeed!” The mouse glared at her angrily and for a moment Ruby thought it was going to bite her. She pulled her hand away. But, after a moment, the little mouse’s shoulders slumped and it sat on the floor beside her, looking extremely miserable.

When it finally spoke again, it seemed to be talking to itself. “There’s nothing to be done anyway”, it murmured. “It’s all over.”

“What is?”, asked Ruby, with renewed concern. 

“Everything.” The mouse looked up at Ruby as though noticing her for the first time. It studied her carefully for a moment. “You mean you really don’t know?”

Ruby shook her head slowly.

The mouse looked at her sympathetically. “Father Time… is”, it gulped, “Dead! And so, the mice have left the wheels.” 

“What? No! That can’t be true!” But even as she denied it, Ruby knew that it was. Everything strange about the morning suddenly made sense. Time was slowing down. Why, even this ride was slow. It had always been so exhilarating, leaving her giddy and breathless. But today, the lift felt as though it was running out of battery. 

The mouse looked down at its knees. “Some of us stayed”, it admitted sadly. “But not enough. The wheels are too heavy. And without Father Time to regulate…” The poor little thing shook its head, wiped a tear from its eye and sighed again. “There was no point.”

“But where were you going?”

“I was trying to get help. I thought that if I could find a Big Wig who would listen... If I could find a reason for the mice to return….” 

“What about the peanuts and chocolate? Aren’t they a reason?”

The mouse looked up at her sadly. “What good is food, if you don’t have time to enjoy it.” 

The two of them sat together, lost in their own gloomy thoughts as the lift continued to sink through the darkness. 

“How did you get so high?”, she asked at last.

“I sneaked aboard the lift for part of the way, but mostly I was on foot.” The mouse seemed suddenly a little proud. “It’s a lot of stairs.”

“Yes, I can imagine.”

“A lot of very tall stairs. And now”, it looked despondent again, “I’m back at square one.”

“I’m sorry.”

The mouse tried to smile. “It doesn’t matter. What could I do anyway?”

Ruby was quiet for a moment as thoughts rubbed against each other in her head. After a moment, she looked back at the mouse. “Actually, it does matter, I think. And as for what you can do, I think we can do what we can, and that is all that anyone can ever do.”

She clambered to her feet, reached for her card and pulled it from the slot. As the lift slowed, she reached high up the wall of buttons and pressed the very top one. Nothing happened. She pressed it again - harder.

“I can only do one thing at a time”, complained the lift, in a voice that seemed just a little bit deeper than before. It continued to slow down. When finally, with a little wobble it came to a rest, it added in the same miserable tone, “OK. Now what?”

She pressed the button again.

“You are not authorised to go that high”, said the lift officiously. 

“But it’s an emergency!”

“You are not authorised to go that high”, repeated the lift, “even in an emergency.”

Ruby hit the button again. 

“And, if you continue like that, we won’t be going anywhere at all”, said the lift smugly.

Ruby sighed in frustration. “Well, how high can we…” She stopped herself; the mouse shouldn’t even be this high. “I mean I go?”

“Floor 550.”

“But that’s nowhere near!”

The lift didn’t respond. With a little cry of exasperation, Ruby reached up and pressed the button for the 550th floor, being careful not to bash it too hard and risk annoying the lift even more. They needed whatever help it was willing to give.

Without another word, far off gears crunched. After a long pause, the lift began to climb, and Ruby sat down once more next to the mouse. “If there is anything we can do”, she said simply. “The answer must be up there.”

They sat for a while in silence, both aware that the lift was moving even more slowly than before. 

“We’ll never make it in time”, said the mouse eventually.

“We have to try”, said Ruby simply. She looked at the mouse closely. “What’s your name?”

“Heeros”, said the mouse. “Well, actually, it’s Heerosistimus Popplethwaite Exidopilus, but most people just call me Heeros.”

“I can’t imagine why”, smiled Ruby. 

The mouse smiled too. “I think, in the circumstances, you should definitely stick to Heeros. I mean, if time is short.” 

The lift lurched sluggishly and then began to climb again. They were back in the main shaft and light spilled in through the glass doors once more. 

Ruby looked out. They really were moving very slowly indeed. She counted aloud the seconds it took to reach the next floor: “One second, two seconds, three seconds, four seconds, five seconds”, and tried to calculate how long it would take to reach the 550th floor. ‘If it took five seconds to reach each new floor’, she thought, ‘and they were on floor 364 and, and there were 60 seconds in a minute, that meant it was going to take…. ages!’ 

“Hurry up!”, she shouted in frustration.

The lift sighed. “Please don’t shout. It’s extremely rude.”

“But it’s an emergency! Please”, she pleaded, “can’t you go any faster?” 

“Oh, for goodness sake”, said the lift, sounding even more grumpy. “I’m going as fast as I can! Besides, if you wanted to get there faster, why didn’t you press the Priority button.”

She looked up at the panel of numbers on the wall. “The what?”

“The Priority button”, said the lift impatiently. 

“What does it do?”

The lift sighed again. “Such a stupid girl. It bypasses every other floor of course.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it before?”

“Why should I?”

She studied the wall of buttons. “But which one is it?”

“The green button of course!”

Ruby searched for a green button but couldn’t find one. Reluctantly, because she really didn’t want to be shouted at again, she asked: “Where is it?”  

“Behind you!”

She looked, and eventually located it, at floor level in the middle of the far wall. It was tiny.

“Why is it down there?” she wondered aloud, as she stooped down to press it. “And why is it so small?”

“It must have been for the mice!” The little mouse wandered over and stood between her feet, examining the button itself.  

It made sense but didn’t make sense. “But why? The mice aren’t allowed out of the Wheelhouse.” 

“It wasn’t always that way”, said the mouse sadly. “The mice were considered heroes once. After all, we were the ones that prevented the world from running out of time in the beginning.”

“How?”

The mouse thought for a moment. “Have you never wondered why we run on the wheels all day?” He looked disappointed. “In the beginning of course, there was just Father Time. But soon there were too many people, demanding more and more time, and there just wasn’t enough to go round. That’s when the mice offered their services, and the first big wheels were built.”

“Oh!”

“So, the mice made time for Father Time. But, before long, the world was again full of people complaining there wasn’t enough. As the demand grew, the wheels got bigger and heavier. That meant more mice were needed; the Wheelhouse became more cramped, and much hotter. Eventually they started shaving us.”

“But why?”

“To keep us cool enough and streamlined enough to power the wheels”, said the mouse simply. 

“That’s really sad.”

“By then the Big Wigs were running things, though we never saw them, and things got much worse after that. Of course, that a long time ago; hundreds of thousands of generations of mice have passed through the wheels since then...”

“From heroes to slaves”, murmured Ruby sadly.

The mouse nodded thoughtfully. “Time has been our enemy”. 

Ruby sat down in the far corner of the lift, with the mouse on her lap, and watched the even numbered floors pass beyond the doors. The lift was moving even more sluggishly, and she wondered if it would run out of power before it reached the 550th floor. She held her breath as it ground on, praying it wouldn’t stop.

She might have dropped off to sleep, because she was suddenly aware that the doors were open. And getting into the lift were three very Big Wigs! They seemed lost in their own thoughts and completely unaware of Ruby’s presence, yet alone the mouse’s! She quickly slipped Heeros into her pocket and started to get to her feet. 

“Floor 550”, announced the lift, a bit late. 

Floor 550? That was as far as she was allowed to go! But, if the Big Wigs didn’t know she was there…. Ruby slumped back to the floor, trying to make herself as small as she possibly could, and waited. 

Sure enough, after what seemed a lifetime without breathing, the lift started once more to climb! 

The Big Wigs were all facing the doors, with their backs to Ruby. The wig nearest her was so tall that it was being crushed towards her by the ceiling. She had never been so close to one, or seen one so big! She studied it. It seemed to be made from millions of tiny individual hairs, each a different colour, all intricately woven together. She looked closer. And suddenly, as she instinctively reached into her pocket to stroke Heeros’s smooth skin, she knew where all the hair came from. The realisation made her feel a bit sick. It was bad enough that they shaved the poor mice, but to use the results as decoration and a symbol of power.... it just didn’t seem right.

The lift ground on, up, and up. And still none of the Big Wig’s noticed her. They hardly seemed to notice each other, they were so lost in their own thoughts. 

Finally, with a long groan, the lift shuddered to a halt. For a moment, nothing happened, and then, slowly, slowly, the doors scraped open without any announcement; the lift seemed to have lost its voice completely. 

Without even a glance behind them, the Big Wigs dragged themselves out of the lift, looking for all the world like they were fighting their way through a sandstorm. 

As quickly as she could, which wasn’t very quickly at all, Ruby followed, wading against thick air that felt like it was filled with cotton wool.  

She found herself in a hall, a thousand times bigger than any room she’d ever seen in her life. It was filled with huge glass cabinets, each containing a giant floating globe that appeared to be suspended on rods that protruded from the glass. 

The cabinets stretched in every direction and each one contained a sphere that was different to all of the others. Some were flat, some bumpy, some large, others small. Some were swirling clouds of red, blue or gold; others a solid colour. In one cabinet, across the hall, was bright blue globe beneath white swirling mists. It was smaller than many, but extraordinarily beautiful. And right next to it was a huge wooden door that stretched the full height of the enormous room. 

“Over there!” whispered Heeros, who’d popped his head out of her pocket to look out over the vast room. “That’s Father Time’s office!”

She struggled towards the door, against the air, which seemed to be pushing her back even more forcefully. Everything was becoming even harder. And then, suddenly everything changed, and she shot forward. She flew straight across the huge room and collided with the glass that protected the blue floating globe, tumbling Heeros from her pocket.

“What was that?” she cried.

“A time bubble”, said Heeros, picking himself up from the floor. “It can happen without Father Time to regulate things. We’re lucky there’s not enough time left to make a bigger one.”

“Lucky?”

“Well, lucky in an unlucky sort of way.”

Ruby rubbed her head, feeling a small bruise where she’d crashed into the glass. She looked at the cabinet, to make sure it wasn’t broken, and her eye was once more drawn to the globe inside. It wasn’t just blue, she realised. Quite a lot of it was green. And there were shades of yellow, brown and even red beneath the swirling clouds of white. It was truly beautiful. 

She studied the cabinet more closely and realised something else extraordinary. The rods were not supporting the ball at all. They weren’t even rods. She stared in amazement; they were telescopes! 

Even with time now dangerously short, she couldn’t resist a peak through the nearest one. At first it revealed nothing but a grainy blur. But as she twisted the small button on its side, the picture gradually cleared, eventually revealing a tiny cluster of buildings, a town, a street on the surface of the globe!

The street was in darkness, apart for one light that shone from one window of one tiny house. Ruby zoomed in further until she was looking directly through the window at a young girl. The girl, who was perhaps a similar age to Ruby, was sitting at a desk and trying to read. While the rest of the house slept, this one little girl fought on, her finger edging with painful slowness over a book, even as her eyes drooped. 

Wherever the little girl was, it was clear that time was running out there too. 
Feeling like a strange intruder, Ruby zoomed in to look at the girl’s open diary. An exam! Tomorrow! The girl was preparing for something that really mattered to her. Something, that might never happen if time was lost.

As Ruby watched, the girl’s strength failed. Her head fell onto the desk and she sank into a deep sleep. 

It was only then that Ruby noticed the girl’s chair had two large wheels. 

Ruby let go of the telescope, aware suddenly that Heeros was tugging at her trousers. 

“What are you doing?”, he whispered loudly. “In case, you’ve forgotten”, we’re running out of time.”

“Don’t worry”, said Ruby quietly. “I’ve not forgotten. In fact, I think I’ve just realised how important it is that we save time! Look!”

Slowly, because everything now was slow, she picked Heeros up and showed him how to use the telescope. When she lifted him away again, his eyes too were wet with tears.

“Come on, she said. Let’s do this.”

“Wait!” Something in his voice made her stop and she looked at him sitting in her hands. “I think I know what we have to do”, he said. “But you have to promise me something first.”

Ruby listened carefully as Heeros explained how time might yet be saved. When he’d finished, she nodded without hesitation.

“Together”, she said.

“Always?” 

“Always.” And she sealed the deal with a little kiss on the surprised mouse’s lips. 

“Ugh! There was no need for that”, exclaimed Heeros, wiping his mouth with his hand.

She laughed. “Come on then.” 

And, still holding the mouse, she pushed open the huge wooden door to Father Time’s office.

The first thing Ruby noticed was the machinery that lined the walls. Everywhere she looked, there were cogs, valves, pipes, and wheels. And, on the far wall, one particularly large wheel with a cranking handle. 

The Handle! 

That was the first thing Ruby noticed. The first thing she probably should have noticed was that the room was also filled with Big Wigs. Luckily for her, they were all focused on the wheel too. 

Everyone knew the wheel. Every picture of Father Time showed him casually turning it. In every address he gave on the big screens he would have one hand on the wheel. 

Now, one by one, or in pairs, threes and fours the Big Wigs were trying to turn it. And failing.

“Fools!”

Heeros had spoken too loudly. The Big Wigs’ faces turned abruptly from the wheel to Ruby.

“Who are you?”, shouted the Big Wig nearest her. “How did you get here? You’re not allowed here.”

“It’s an outrage”, shouted another. 

Ruby found some last remnants of courage. “You can’t turn time from here”, she said. “You need the mice to drive the big wheels below. But they won’t do it for you. Not for you!”

“How dare you!” The biggest Big Wig of all, advanced towards her menacingly.

And then, quite suddenly, it screamed. A high pitched, terrified squeal of a scream. “A mouse!” 

The same exclamation came from somewhere else: “A mouse!”

“A mouse!”

The Big Wigs scrambled to get as far away from Heeros as they could.  

So, the Big Wigs were scared of mice! No wonder they were never seen in the Wheelhouse. Ruby held Heeros out, pleased to see he was playing along by baring his teeth and making quite strange growling noises. 

“I’ll let him go!” she shouted as bravely as she could. 

The Big wigs backed further into the far corner of the room; towards a door with a sign on it that said: ‘Brooms, tea and spare parts.’

“In there.” Ruby indicated the cupboard. “And leave the key.” 

Quickly, obediently, one of the Big Wigs opened the cupboard door and they all shuffled in. 

All except one.

“Go on”, said Ruby, her voice trembling as her nerve began to break.

“No dear.” And with that, the last remaining Big Wig reached up, lifted the wig from its head and threw it on the floor. 

“Aunty Jazz?” Ruby was stunned as the Aunt she’d not seen since for many years emerged from beneath the giant headpiece.

Aunty Jazz bowed her head. “I’m ashamed to say it is Ruby. Now, tell me how I can help.”

It only took ten minutes, with Aunty Jazz’s help, to prepare for Heeros’s first public address. Ruby imagined the panic that would ripple through the building when he appeared. No doubt there would be more screaming too. None of that mattered. All that mattered was that the mice, wherever they were, watched. And listened. And believed. 

Throughout the building the screens flicked on and a tiny magnified mouse began to speak.

Afterwards:
Father Time wound the wheel and adjusted the gauges. One of the valves was stuck, so she gave it a tap. She’d need to get that sorted or people somewhere would be going backwards. But generally, everything was running like clockwork. She smiled to herself. Nearly time for a nice cup of tea. She looked at the big clock on her office wall; the very first clock. But first, there was one thing she needed to do. 

Heeros entered the office, using one of the new mouse tracks that ran throughout the building enabling the mice to travel wherever they wanted at the same height as people.

“Hello, old friend”, she said. “How’s it going?”

“Really well”, said Heeros with obvious pride. “We’re nearly ready.” 

“That’s fantastic!” Ruby smiled. Soon there would be a new Wheelhouse on a new floor, right at the top of the building, with wall-to-wall windows and a view of the entire universe. 

“There’s someone I have to see”, she said. “Coming?”

“Of course.”

Together they left the office and moved to the glass cabinet containing the beautiful blue dome that rotated slowly behind the glass. Choosing her telescope with care, she put one eye to it. Heeros chose one of the new miniature telescopes.

Ruby cried a little as she watched with pride the little girl in the wheelchair receive her scrolled certificate. 

At the same time, Heeros watched the family of mice he’d first seen a few weeks ago, playing in the shade of a tree, including the baby born on the night they saved time.  

Eventually, the two friends pulled themselves away from the telescopes, each filled with pride and hope.

“Would you like a cup of tea?”, Ruby asked her best friend. “I think we’ve earned it.”