Dear You. . .

Dear You,

It’s been awhile since I’ve written to you, and for that I am sorry. I wish I had a better excuse than I do, but it seems  I’ve just been out of my own mind lately.

You see, I took a trip not too long ago, and since then I have had trouble getting any of my thoughts to think normally again.

I have to tell you, this was unlike any of the adventures I’ve been on before. I know you must be thinking that it’s pretty unbelievable, but I tell you each trip seems to top the last.

I found myself in a land of clocks. Finding myself somewhere like that is a far cry to be honest. It took two plane rides, and a illegal taxi driver, but there I was, finding myself in the land of ticking hands.

My friend Calend lives there, and he invited me to his house for a cup of tea, so naturally I didn’t pass up the opportunity.

After the taxi ride that nearly ended my appetite altogether, I was greeted by Calend with a wave of his hand, and a sincere smile. As promised, he poured me a cup of tea as soon as we walked into his house, and I must say, it did not disappoint.

He then started to tell me a story about a missing second hand, and the many accusations that have been thrown around town. Being a curious mind myself, he thought my ameture investigative skills might help to aid the search. The land of clocks you see, would erupt into utter chaos if those second hands continued to be missing. At that very moment they were off the time by an hour. We couldn’t waste any more minutes than what we already had drinking those teas.

I got right to work, asking questions of the boy selling newspapers on the street. The banker that exchanged my money was an odd fellow, but he had a solid alibi as he had been at work, and they conveniently have security cameras that caught his every move. Even the very instance when he picked his nose and put the booger on the nearby plant. Unforgivable I tell you.

I then asked the flower lady who handed me a rose as I left the bank. I even asked dear Calend about his whereabouts as he poured me another glass of tea after dinner that evening. I seemed to be no closer than any other person who had been looking over this case before me. That’s when it hit me.

“How are these clocks taken care of?” I asked Calend after a sip.

“Well, it’s kind of magic.”

“Magic?” I asked in an attempt to get him to continue.

He looked at me warily, and then with a sigh he continued, “The land of clocks isn’t a place like any other.”

“Please go on.”

“It’s magical. Most people shake their heads at that notion.”

“I am not most people.”

“Seems so,” Calend took the seat opposite me, “The clocks are taken care of by a silly little cat.”

“A cat?” I asked in confusion. I’m sure at this point you are as confused as I was then.

“A cat,” he answers me in a serious tone.

“A cat, huh,” I took a sip of tea, and cross my legs, “This cats name?”

“Rasgus,” Calend answers.

“Rasgus?! I know Rasgus!”

“How do you know Rasgus.”

“We just met in Russia about two weeks ago. Tell me, when did these second hands go missing?”

“About two weeks ago.”

I set my tea down, “Just as I thought. Calend, we need to go see Rasgus.”

We did not go see Rasgus that evening, as it was already 9:30, and past all three of our bedtimes.

The next morning, after another cup of tea, the trip to the bathroom, and a putting on my jacket, we were out the door, and on the carriage to the house of Rasgus the cat.

We arrived, and I noticed Rasgus on his roof immediately, searching for something. At this time I figured it was the second hands, and it turned out I was correct.

“Rasgus, have any luck finding anything,” Calend called out to him.

“Nothing yet,” Ragus replies not looking in his direction, “For the life of me I can’t figure out where those little guys have gone.”

“It’s a good thing you have nine lives then,” I chimed in.

Rasgus looked up then, the realization that he knew me hit him suddenly.

“Frinser!” he exclaimed excitedly, “I didn’t think I would ever see you again!”

“Seems adventure had other plans.”

“I’m thankful for that. What brings you here?”

“A cup of tea with a friend, and the case of the missing seconds hands.”

“The tea is excellent here,” Rasgus says pointedly.

“Indeed,” I agree with him.

Calend joins the conversation with, “Frinser as an ameture investigator, I figured any kind of help would be useful.”

“It’s certainly better than no help at all,” Rasgus agrees.

“Not sure if that’s a compliment of my skill, or just a fact,” I joked with them.

We all laughed for about three seconds before the conversation turned to how Rasgus and I met in Russie.

“Over tea, actually.” I told Calend.

“I should have guessed,” Calend smiles.

“I don’t mean to change the subject, but have you any luck of locating the second hands? We’re about an hour behind. I have the back-up hands in their place, but they haven’t gone through all the proper training, and they seem to be falling behind. Seems a week of work is all they can accomplish at this time.”

“Precisely a week,” I say with understanding.

Rasgus looked at me with a confused look on his face, “I feel like you know something I don’t.”

“Do you remember the book you let me borrow in Russia?” I asked Rasgus.

“The Sequence of Numbers, and the Fault in Sequences?”

“Exactly,” I pause to let the knowledge sink in. Calend looks from Rasgus to me, and then back to Rasgus. Just then Rasgus’ face lights up in understanding.

“The bookmarks!”

“Exactly.”

“Booksmarks? We’re looking for second hands?”

“The second hands were his bookmarks,” I explain.

“Yes, I took them on vacation with me to give them a break. I cannot believe I left them.”

“At least you left them in good company.”

“Do you have the book with you?”

“I never leave without a book.”

Life is an interesting storyline friend. To think that the simple gesture of letting a friend borrow a book sent an entire town into a panic is an exaggerated example of how our actions have consequences. Please don’t mistake this as a lesson in not doing anything. You of all people should know that I don’t recommend that.

Therein concludes my letter to you, dear friend.  

I hope to see you soon, and talk about your wonderfully silly life.

Until then,

Frinser DePew

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