I don't own, nor am I affiliated with Pride and Prejudice or TiMER.
If anyone's unfamiliar with the movie TiMER, the basic premise is that you can install a timer on your wrist that will count down until the day you meet your soul mate. I've changed some details in that process slightly for the purposes of this story. I intend to make each chapter a snapshot of what I think this would look like in the world of Pride and Prejudice. Enjoy!
Preface - Elizabeth
I was supposed to be at soccer practice. Instead, I was sitting on a modified dentist chair with my right hand palm up.
"This may hurt," the attendant warned. I looked away—I didn't want to watch, I'd rather be surprised by the pinch.
I had been planning on having a normal weekday. We had all piled in the mini van after school; me with my soccer gear, Jane with her ballet slippers, and Mary with whatever book she was reading this month. The twins, Kitty and Lydia, were old enough to leave at home, but after the curling iron incident Mom decided they would run errands with her.
Instead of after school activities, Mom pulled in to a strip mall. "Now girls, I would have brought you here before, but I wanted to make sure it was safe. Mrs. Fairchild has assured me that even though the technology is new, it's guaranteed to work. And the sooner you've got one, the sooner you'll meet Mr. Right! It's all I want for you. You'll all live happily ever after!" And that's when I realized where we were.
It was the latest in matchmaking, a timer on your wrist that counted down to the second you would meet your soul mate. They said it worked. I was skeptical.
Our attendant, Deborah (according to her name tag, anyway), led all six of us to a room in the back.
Mary wanted to go first, neither Jane nor I objected. The twins wheedled and whined, but they were still a year shy of 13, the minimum age.
Mary sat and stoically listened to the warnings and disclaimers. No assurance that your soul mate had had one installed yet, no returns if you don't like your soul mate, just because you saw them doesn't mean they saw you, basic stuff. If they hadn't had one installed the timer would show flashing dashes. If they had one, the days, hours, minutes, and seconds would appear. After you see your soul mate, the counter would show solid zeros. If your soul mate died or had their timer removed, then the backlight would turn off. Deborah also explained the electric shock you would feel when the timer hits zero and you see them.
I really couldn't care less about the particulars, I was just curious to see if it worked.
Mary got comfortable in the chair. They set the weird staple gun-looking apparatus on the inside of Mary's right wrist and counted down from three. There was a hiss and a pop and Deborah moved out of the way. We all crowded around the chair. The lights booted up and numbers scrolled across the face, finally settling on a number.
7,884D 04H 23M 17S
I pulled out my phone to put that into years. "Thirty-six. You're going to be thirty-six."
Mary burst out crying.
"Now, sweetie. I know that's a long time. But he's out there, you'll see! Happily every after!" Mom patted Mary's head in what I think was supposed to be a reassuring way. It was mostly negated by her next comment to the attendant. "There must be some mistake. Can you get her another soul mate? Figure out who he is so we can arrange a meeting within the next decade? It has to be in your system somewhere! How will they have children?" Mary sobbed harder, though some of it may have been from embarrassment.
"Ma'am, that's not how it works. Take it or leave it. We could remove her timer, but she'd never be able to get another one." She looked apologetic, "This is not unheard of or even that uncommon. Why, just last week we installed a timer that wasn't set to zeroize for forty years."
Jane and I exchanged glances. I wasn't keen on the idea before, but now it seemed potentially so much worse.
Deborah handed Mary a box of tissues and Mom helped her from the chair. I guess that meant it was my turn. Mom talked at Jane about the new fashion of wearing wrist guards to keep people from looking at your timer and I looked anywhere but at my arm.
"Pinch" was an understatement. It felt like twenty simultaneous bee stings or a second-degree burn. Everyone stopped talking to get a look at my wrist.
2,392D 03H 20M 06S
It could have been worse. I could have lived without the squeals of delight from Mom, though. Already she was talking about how I would be birthing her future grandkids in a few short years. I got out of the chair quickly to get anyone else in the spotlight.
Jane sat quietly as Mom continued to loudly plan my future life. I grasped Jane's left hand. Hiss and pop. We leaned over to see what the timer displayed. Surprised, I glanced back at my own wrist, which now read 2,392D 03H 17M 45S, and then looked back at hers.
2,392D 03H 20M 32S