The Time Keeper

Chapter 1: A spilt second

Quentin had tried to explain to the fat boy that he was a Time Keeper, just because he was bored; However this had backfired on him, Now the fat boy wouldn't leave him alone and was as stuck to Q as his very own shadow - Well... at least he tried to be.

"What do you mean a Time Keeper?" The boy, who was clearly more than a little out of breath stammered, trying to keep up. "I'm wearing a time keeper of sorts on my hand - a watch. You're just an ordinary boy!"

Quentin snorted: Ordinary? Ordinary?! Who the hell did HE think HE was calling HIM ORDINARY? What right had he?

Q picked up the pace, maybe if he tired the plump kid out a bit he might just leave him alone. Alas Quentin was wrong - this just seemed to provoke his tubby follower and make him even more determined.

"Did *breath* you *wheeze* know that -" It was becoming harder and harder for the poor boy to actually speak between croaky breaths. "Did you know *inhale* inside my watch are hundreds *rasp* of tiny cogs *pant* each fitted perfectly to tell the time?"

"REALLY?!" The 'Ordinary' Boy gasped sarcastically, before his face straightened again a spilt second later. He fixed his grey eyes in front of him and his lips pulled into a firm line.

"Yes, and did you know that-" It was clear that Quentin's 'new friend' was not getting the hint. The kid was on a roll and he sure as hell wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"Fine... Fine - You win!" The 'Time Keeper' threw his arms up to the heavens as a sign of defeat. The White flag had been waved. The war was over. Yet the tank kept coming, nothing was going to shoot it down.

"So you are Normal!"

Quentin rolled his eyes to the sky in a manner that suggested he was everything but.

Q changed gears: taking longer strides, this meant that his now plum faced follower was forced to jog. The pair were quite amusing to look at - one as lean as the other round, one tall and the other short.

"Slow down *huff* a minute *huff* will you?" He did just the opposite. And for a split second it looked like the fat boy might finally throw in the towel. A glimmer of a smile crept up Q's face, yet this was broken abruptly.

"Did you know *rasp* that the first proper clock was *wheeze* made by Christiaan Huygens." The portly boy's face seemed to light up - However whether this was from pride or from his recent unnatural burst of exercise, I'm not quite sure.

Q examined his unwanted companion, he was not used to hanging around with children his age, now he remembered why. Beads of sweat trickled down the reddening face. The boy now had an uncanny resemblance to that of a boiled tomato, Quentin thought. These famous, crimson cheeks were decorated by dispersed freckles, and framed by the yellow tuffs of hair which were plastered to the short sticky forehead. Slipping down the kid's circular nose were a pair of spectacles: clearly a few sizes too big for him - they took up most of his face. The fat boy's eyes met his through the misted glass, before Q quickly fixed his icy stare back onto the pavement.

It was now the smaller of the two's turn to scrutinise. He looked up at this weird, new acquaintance who towered over him. His Mother had always told him not to speak to strangers - but there had been something peculiar about this boy: maybe it was the way he sauntered around as if he owned the place. Confidence radiated off him, yet he wasn't particularly good looking - Christopher noticed, and his clothing choice was questionable. The 'Time Keeper' was obviously older than Christopher, yet not by much. At least that's what one might originally believe.

The not so ordinary boy was silent, he glided across the ground with such ease at such a fast rate - it was almost as if while doing nothing out of the question at all, he was screaming to be noticed. You couldn't help but look in his direction. But why, Christopher wondered? He looked SO Normal.

"Can you quit starin'?"

"Sorry!"

He hung his blonde head, and for a short while (a spilt second,) all was peaceful. Of course this didn't last for long.

Still aglow the stout boy picked up from where he left off:

"The clock was invented in 1655, I think... Or was it 1656?"

Q scoffed: this little idiot thought he knew it all. He had no clue as to just how wrong he was. Q would show him.

"Actually the pendulum clock was first invented in 1465 by the Likois. They brought their knowledge and research with them when they came to Earth several years later." Christopher's once racing mouth finally froze, and he gaped like a goldfish. Quentin cherished the look of shock - as the colour appeared to drain out of the younger boy's cheeks. "Sure Huygens' tweaked their design a little but still."

All was silent for a split second.

"...You're Wrong."

"Pardon?"

"I said *breath* you're wrong."

Quentin stopped in his tracks. He could not believe the stupidity of this insolent little child questioning HIS authority?! He turned to the wheezing lump of pure 'wrong' and gave him a most sinister glare.

"What do you mean I'm 'Wrong?'"

Christopher did not answer straight away, as he was currently hunched over a nearby wall - rasping uncontrollably. Eventually he built up enough puff to talk.

"I'm doing, *croak* a whole project, *pant* about clocks at school."

"So?" Quentin answered with his award winning scowl.

"I've never heard of The Lickopops."

"You blinders never believe in anything unless you bloody well see it for yourselves."

"What's a blinder?"

"That's the name We Time Keeper's give to ORDINARY people like you who are blind to the truth." At this the chubby boy flew into a sudden rage. Clearly Quentin had hit a soft spot.

"I'm not blind! *rasp* I may have glasses! *gasp* But I can see!" He plonked himself down on the pavement, arms crossed, stomach heaving, having a little strop.

'The Time Keeper' gave up. There was no use. Blinders were empty-headed idiots. Why waste another split second on this pathetic kid?

"...Wait a minute!" Squealed the piggy looking boy - his face had now turned bright pink. "Earlier you, you said..." Christopher was finding it hard not to trip over his words. "Whhat you saidd caantt bepossible!" Christopher expected to hear a loud, undermining:

"What?" But no such remark came. The fat boy looked up.

The 'Time Keeper' was gone.

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Hi, (if there is ever anyone reading this.) I'm new here. Don't really know how all of this works. :/

This is an opening for a short story I hope to continue with. I hope you like it? :)

- KP