The Broken Watch
Copyright© 2015 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 1
"Pleased to meet you Wendy," I extended a hand.
She took it automatically. "Who are you?"
"You must know me ... you spoke my name."
"Seriously, who are you?"
"David ... that's what you said before you fainted," I said. "Distinctly."
"David ... is ... ah ... my ... umh ... father ... yeah ... my father," Wendy said. "If you thought I was speaking to you ... I wasn't."
The screendoor banged.
"You said, 'I'll never get home.' Why not?"
She glanced at the pile of parts and shuddered, "I did?"
"You did... 'I'll never get home.'," I affirmed.
"Hmm ... umh ... ah ... I don't know."
Her mind closed like a watertight door or a vault... SNAP!
"I'm curious ... aren't you on the way to school?"
EEK! is a sound not often heard ... generally ... but Wendy EEKed It was cute ... she sort of stumbled and looked ... mystified.
"I'm older than I look," she said.
"Since you have the body of a sixteen year old and the face of a preteen, you're going to have to proves it ... and not to me. Truancy is a big deal. Can you prove it?"
The screendoor banged
She looked longly at the watch.
What is the deal with the watch? I thought.
She said, "I have NO identification ... just the watch."
"It's broke..." I said.
She moaned and her shield dropped just a little ... extreme distress, I suppose.
I can never go home.
Why not?
This isn't good.
What isn't good?
I can't hide from you.
Yes, you can. I can't hear you unless you're upset. You bleed through ... although, I don't know what you bleed through.
It's a shield. I didn't know I could build one.
You can.
The screendoor banged.
"It's extremely disconcerting," I said.
Janie said, "What's disconcerting?"
"I don't know what to do with her."
"What makes you think you have that choice?" Janie said, "She's obviously a minor ... I have to call CPS ... I have no choice. I will lose my license if I don't."
"Monday soon enough?" I asked.
"Since they're closed, it'll have to do, yes. Monday is soon enough."
This last little conversation was made as if Wendy wasn't there ... and it upset her.
"I'm right here, ya know," she peevishly said. "It's not like I'm next door ... or around the corner. I'll have something to say."
The screendoor banged.
"Really?" asked Janie, "Like ... this is my birth certificate? Or, my drivers license. Or, maybe ... I'm carrying credit cards in my name?"
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