Chapter 15
"I don't think I can do anymore," I sighed breathlessly.
Monroe gave me a sly grin. "Oh, I think you have one more in ya."
"I've had so many already… and it's so early," I whimpered.
"Come on, Honey, just one more… for me?"
"Okay, fine. Let me know when the time changes, so I can get the seconds right," I conceded, setting forward the hour on the millionth clock in Monroe's house.
"Okay… and now!" Monroe motioned with his hand as I clicked the time in place.
"How many more clocks do you have left?"
"We haven't started on the ones in the bedroom yet," he replied. I groaned softly, but he caught it. "Normally I would've had this done last night, but… well, you know. I was kinda busy last night." He scratched at his head with a sigh.
"And you do this twice a year?"
"Like clockwork," Monroe laughed, amused at his own pun. "You see what I did there?"
I shook my head. "Oh, Mr. Monroe, we need to find you a new career."
Monroe had encouraged me to wake up early this morning and do some stretching while he did Pilates. The stretching relaxed my muscles and it had been a good suggestion overall. As I expected I was much better this morning. Even Monroe was impressed by the difference after half a day. I still looked like I'd been on the losing end of a fight, but the wound was diminished.
Monroe was in better spirits, but he hadn't felt well this morning. He blamed it on the combination of being out in the rain on Thursday night and then out in the cool night air last night. The result was a coughing, sneezing Blutbad. Nyquil didn't have a formula for that one. Regardless of his ailments, he'd been giddy all morning about Daylight Savings Time like it was a national holiday. After breakfast I'd seen more clocks today than I'd seen in a lifetime.
As I was going over to another clock, a shelf clock in the corner of the room caught my eye. It was much more ornate and rustic than mine, but it was definitely a cuckoo. The wood was walnut, I deduced, and the russet brown color was a shade lighter than Monroe's eyes. There was a large-eyed wolf carved on its base, peering up ready to pounce on two birds flying on the sides of the clock. The rest was adorned by grapes with leaves along its edges.
"This one is lovely! I never noticed you had a shelf cuckoo." I smiled at Monroe. "Who made this one?"
"Oh, you found my favorite!" Monroe grinned widely while walking over toward me. "This particular clock is straight out of the Black Forest and was carved by my great-great-great…" he paused to count on his fingers, "there might be one more great in there," he laughed, "grandfather in Freiburg back in 1862. Like yours, it's key wound with an eight day run."
"So the wolf is…"
"It's not a wolf," Monroe piped in, shaking his head. "It's a fox."
I looked at the carving again. It was hard to tell, but I guess it could be a fox. The eyes had a red hue to them, which made me think of Monroe's eyes. I just assumed it was a wolf given its owner.
"It's depicting The Fox and the Grapes," Monroe continued. "Aesop's fables? Don't you know that one?"
"Refresh my memory," I replied as I looked further at the carvings.
"A fox spies a bunch of delicious, ripe grapes hanging from a grape vine that's grown up a tree." Monroe pointed to the grapes on the clock. "Despite his best efforts, the fox is unable to reach them. So, you know, in the end he walks away, deciding that the grapes were probably sour anyway," he laughed. "It's where the term 'sour grapes' comes from."
"Ah, yes. I know the phrase." I nodded as I smiled at Monroe.
"You know, life's like that sometimes." Monroe stroked his bearded chin. "You blow up an idea to insurmountable proportions and, well, with the flick of fate, reality hits and those ideas vanish as you walk away, man." Monroe gestured something flittering away with his hands. "Desire is interesting that way, huh?"
"But sometimes," I countered, leaning toward Monroe as I slid my hands against his chest, "desire makes you climb the tree, no matter the odds." I fiddled with his buttons and I looked up into his eyes which were flickering red. "And then you realize that those are the best grapes you've ever tasted." I gave Monroe a flirtatious smile as I pulled him toward me, kissing him deeply.
"Maybe that fox needed some lessons from you."
"So," I paused and turned back to the clock. "Does it have the bird inside?" My clock had a faux bird nested visibly on top and it chirped every hour.
"Uh, yeah. It's a hand-carved cuckoo complete with moving wings," Monroe said, trying to direct his thoughts back to the clock. "But what makes this one unique to yours…" Monroe stopped and moved closer toward the cuckoo. "Better yet, let me just give you a listen. That would be easier," he decided. He moved the clock and slowly turned the minute hand on the front until the bird came out of its door. The sound was deeper than mine. "You hear that? It's a baritone, whereas your Emilian Wehrle cuckoo and most others are tweetys," That childlike grin of his lit up the room. The bird went back inside its door and I couldn't help but grin in return.
"I didn't realize there could be such a difference."
"Oh, yeah." Monroe went on to discuss octaves as I focused on the adornments of the clock.
"The carvings are just so detailed," I awed. "Your ancestor was a skilled craftsman."
"Yeah, my family knows their wood." He froze and furrowed his brow at that remark. "Err, you know what I mean."
I put a finger to my lips to keep from laughing. "I get the idea."
We worked for the next hour setting Monroe's clocks for Daylight Savings Time.
"My eyes are crossed and my fingers are cramping," I moaned, rubbing my fingers. Monroe took my hands in his, rubbing them gently. It felt wonderful.
"You know, most people think Benjamin Franklin invented Daylight Savings Time," Monroe idly said. "Back in 1784, he coined the phrase, 'Early to bed, early to rise,' but his methodology was to get up earlier to economize on candle usage by using the morning sunlight. Now the modern clock shifting technique of Daylight Savings Time is actually credited to New Zealand's entomologist…
"Ooh, I know this one," I interjected. "George Vernon Hudson."
"Bravo! Somebody's been doing their homework," Monroe said approvingly, still massaging my throbbing fingers. I'd Google'd it before I'd volunteered to help Monroe with his clocks. I had a feeling there would be a history lesson thrown in, so I wanted to be prepared.
"In 1895," Monroe continued, "Hudson proposed a two hour shift so he had more time to collect insects. So in a way, we have bug catching to thank for springing forward and falling back each year. It's apropos to say that it bugs ya, huh?" Monroe chuckled at his pun.
"Mr. Hudson, thank you for your creepy hobby that allows my fingers to ache in this way."
"Hey, entomology has its merits."
"You have a bug collection, don't you?"
Monroe pursed his lips. "Uh, maybe." Of course he did.
The ringing of my cell interrupted my comeback. I crossed the living room to my bag on the cedar chest. I sighed at the name on the display. Nick Burkhardt.
"Good morning," I said cheerily while biting the inside of my cheek.
"Renée," he replied. His tone wasn't in the cheery greeting mood. "Would you be able to come over? Are you feeling better after last night?"
"Yeah, I'm much better. Thanks for asking." I turned to Monroe and muted the phone. "Nick wants me to come over. Are you feeling up to that?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I've got this cold under control," Monroe replied, and then sneezed to disprove his point.
"Gesundheit," I said quickly.
"Danke," he grinned. "We'll finish the clocks later. Tell him we'll be there soon."
I pressed the mute button again. "Yeah, Monroe and I can come over. Are we going to your house or…?"
"No, the trailer."
"Trailer. Right." I nodded. "Okay, well, give us a bit to get ready and we'll be there soon."
As I hung up the phone, the reality of everything rushed through me. It was time to face the music.
A/N: I can't imagine the craziness it would be to set all those clocks for DST. Monroe's showing off his favorite clock a bit earlier than in the show, but we get a bit more info on the clock this way. (:
Next chapter is the trailer!