Clockwork Kiss

I had always dreamed of being swept away into some fantasy world. I grew up dreaming of being taken away to Jareth’s goblin kingdom and him declaring his love for me. To be made his goblin queen and spend my days eating peaches at elaborate masquerade balls in stunning gowns. Perhaps that was why I became a museum curator. I could at least live out the fantasy of feats and parties among the relics that had actually been at feasts and parties. I could tell their stories and imagine the lives that had touched them. I never expected any of the artifacts to actually sweep me away into the worlds I dreamed of though. It was late. The snow drifted down outside in small, slow flurries, painted orange by the street lights. My office lights were dim, letting the moonlight cast shadows on the walls at it streamed through the window. We were only a few days away from Christmas, and at the rate things were going at the museum, I’d spend it alone at work. My family had invited me over for dinner, but I didn’t want to have to face the interrogation from my mother’s aunts about why I hadn’t gotten married yet. Or have to listen to another lament about how it was such a shame I’d broken up with Derek. God forbid a girl have standards and expect the person that claims he loves her to be loyal. He was too busy subscribing to OF girls and texting the secretary at his father’s law firm to know what loyalty or love were. I could already hear my mother’s voice: Anya, you have to pick your battles, and he took care of you. Just because she was willing to settle, didn’t mean I should. Fortunately, we’d gotten a few boxes of artifacts in this morning, and I had plenty of time and reason to want to distract myself from the impending holiday. So I was gathering my clipboard and some forms and headed down into the warehouse to begin cataloging the new arrivals. Maybe we’d have a new exhibit put together by the time New Year’s rolled around. As I headed down the stairs from my office, I started hearing a strange humming in my ears. I tried to ignore it at first. I was tired. Not just tired, I was exhausted. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. After the break up last week, I’d started burying myself in my work. I entered the museum’s basement warehouse and the hum became a ringing. I’d have to check my purse for some ibuprofen when I went back to my office. For now though, I tried to push past the noise. I walked past rows of dinosaur bones, fossils dredged up from the bottom of the oceans, various Native American artifacts, and some pottery from Greece, eventually making my way to the massive metal loading doors that were currently locked against the cold. I shivered anyways, wrapping my arms around myself and rubbing them through my tan sweater. The boxes were various sized and stacked up in front of the doors. A few work benches lined the wall over to the side of the room with various lamps and tools filling the surfaces - and the drawers. I opened the first box. It was really more of a crate. I had to peel the lid off, and found a tall vase nestled safely inside, cushioned in bubble wrap and styrofoam. I brought it over to a workbench and turned a light on as I began filling out the new artifact intake form. The artwork on the vase was unlike any I had ever seen before. The paint was so glossy it almost shimmered as if it was mixed with glitter. Yet I didn’t see any distinctive specks of glitter. It didn’t look like some cheap craft either. Black silhouettes danced around the base. Then a middle band depicted a scene of battle and feasting, and around the neck of the vase was a pattern of suns and moons. I wasn’t sure what the origin was, perhaps pagan? I finished filling out the form and moved the vase to another table to be categorized and have a spot found for it later. I continued working through the crates and boxes. They were filled with similar artifacts, the artwork tying them to the vase. Once I figured out their origins, perhaps we’d be able to create a whole new exhibit. As I got closer to the last box, the ringing in my ears got louder. The humming was back too. It was more distinctive this time though, almost like a song. I rubbed my eyes and blinked a few times, willing myself to focus. I was almost done, I could push through a little more. I pried the lid off the last box and was met with the oddest little face looking back at me. Lavender eyes were painted in the center of the wooden block head. Tufts of silver cotton hair stuck out from under a midnight blue hat. A sharp angled nose was nestled just under the eyes, and the elongated mouth of a nutcracker was under that. I pushed back the paper and styrofoam, revealing the rest of his midnight blue uniform and black boots, then carefully lifted him from his cocoon. He didn’t look like an ordinary nutcracker though. The ears that stuck out from under his hat poked through his hair and were long and sharp. There was no lever on his back to open and close his mouth. Was he broken? Ever so carefully, I pushed his mouth shut, just for it to fall open again. A delicate silver chain ran from his waist to the intricately engraved pocket watch hanging from his outstretched hand. The humming was getting louder. My thumb slid over the seam of the watch, and I debated trying to open it. I didn’t know how old the nutcracker was, or where it had come from. The last thing I wanted to do was risk breaking it. It was ticking though. At least I was pretty sure it was. It was hard to hear over the noise droning on in my head. I held it up, turning my ear to the watch. It was ticking. Carefully, I pried it open. The face of the clock shimmered, catching the lights and reflecting rainbows. I ran my finger over the glass. The numbers - were they numbers? - were shapes I didn’t recognize. And there was three hands. How odd. I pulled out the little peg and began to wind it. The room started to vibrate. Or was I vibrating? Was I sick? I pushed the peg back in and felt the cold swirling around me. I needed to go. I needed to go home, make a cup of tea, and go to bed. I was getting sick, I had to be. I closed the watch, and the world went blindingly white.