by C J M Naylor
I never skipped class, but this felt like a good reason to. After a minute, I nodded. The world I lived in was getting bigger.
Ian and I took the tube to the building of Parliament. We didn't talk to each other; or at least, I didn't talk to him. He attempted to make conversation, but after so many nods and grunts from me, I think he gave up. My mind was in disarray. Who was this person? How did he know my father? I had never thought before that I would receive answers to many of my questions, and in turn be rewarded with even more questions.
"Do you hear them too?" The question probably surprised him after minutes of silence. I figured I should elaborate. "The whispers, or the voices. Do you see things?"
"Yes," Ian replied. "Believe me, there are hundreds of people who have this, let's call it, an ability. But I want you to hear it from him, not me."
A part of me wished Ian, or my father, had found me sooner. I felt if I had not known Ian a part of me would feel like succumbing to insanity. The thought scared me. I decided to think about Phillip, but that only made it worse. What would he think if he knew Ian had some sort of connection to me?
The train began to brake and finally came to a stop. As we began to make the trek out of the tube, my attention diverted to a poster for the war. Hitler will send no warning—so always carry your gas mask. The picture of the mask, being held by two hands, brought my thoughts to my mask at home. I had stopped carrying it a long time ago. The purported gassing from Hitler had never come, but they kept the signs up to remind us. We weren't safe. What if someone had had a vision about this war and all the death? I wondered if it could have been prevented.
"Abigail."
My eyes averted back to Ian. I realized I had paused, one foot on the step and the other on the ground, my attention being taken up by the sign.
"I'm sorry."
I ran forward to keep up and followed Ian out of the tube. The cold air was not friendly to my cheeks. I pulled my coat tighter around me and followed him out of Westminster station. The streets were busy today as we crossed over and entered the building of Parliament through the public entrance. Ian led me through the Lords Visitor Route and then we stopped at a door that was clearly for authorized individuals only. He took out a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. I followed him through the open door and he shut it behind us.
"Isn't someone going to be suspicious that we are coming in here?" I asked.
It was then that I realized he had put on a badge for U.K. Parliament maintenance.
"My profession during the daytime, miss," Ian replied, a grin on his face. "How else would I have keys? Besides that, we have ways of gaining access. We were here first, in all technicality."
We. Who were we?
Ian led me down several flights of stairs until I was sure we were at the very bottom of the building. He led me through several chambers used for ventilation and heating, until finally we faced an older brick wall. Ian then took out a key inserted it into a very small crack, and then turned it. The wall began to slide over, revealing an entrance. Beyond that, there was only darkness.
"Do you trust me?"
My eyes widened as I considered his question. He held out his hand.
"No," I said. But I took it anyway.
I followed him into the darkness and could tell he was inserting the key into another crack on the other side of the wall. The wall began to slide into place until we were entirely consumed in darkness. A sudden jerking motion made me scream and lose my balance. I felt Ian's arms around my waist, steadying me. We were descending.
"A lift," Ian said. "This is where the secrets come to light."
The lift continued to take us farther and farther below Parliament, until finally it stopped. We were in front of an old, iron, fence door. Ian inserted the key into an actual keyhole this time, and unlocked the door. He slid it to the side and I stepped out into a long corridor.
"Well, I took a tour of Parliament when I was younger," I said, "with my parents of course. I definitely don't remember this being part of it."
Ian laughed. "No. Abigail, I know this may be difficult for you to understand, but the world that you live in, that we live in, is not privy to everything that is a part of humanity. Come with me."
I looked up as I followed Ian down the corridor. The vaulted ceilings captivated me. I felt like I was inside an underground castle. Pictures adorned both sides of the walls. They were portraits of people. The older ones were painted, but as we moved further down the corridor, a few were actual photographs.
Finally, we entered a round, oval shaped room. It looked like a small library and sitting room. An enormous fireplace was at the opposite wall, a fire roaring in its grate. In front of the fireplace, there was one mahogany desk.
"Ian."
The shock of a nearby voice almost made me scream. I turned slowly, realizing that this voice must belong to the man that was my biological father. Turning around, I saw him exiting a door to the side of the hall, closing it behind him. He was taller than me, probably around six feet. His hair was a dark brown, like mine, but it was quite long, almost down to his shoulders. He sported a light shadow of a beard on his face and appeared to be in his early forties.
"The rules, Ian," he finally spoke. "You are not supposed to bring anyone into the—"
He stopped. Realization came over his face as he continued to gaze at me.
"You look like my wife," he said. "Elisabeth."
"Mathias," I heard Ian speak up. Mathias. My biological father was Mathias. "This is Abigail. Your daughter."
A look appeared on his face, portraying some kind of internal struggle. But then it was gone, replaced with an everyday look, void of any struggle. Mathias walked over to me and held out his hand. I looked at it for a moment, questioned myself, and then shook it.
"Abigail Jordan," I finally spoke.
"Mathias Benedict," he replied. "I suppose you must have many questions."
I only nodded.
Mathias turned his head back toward Ian.
“How did you find her?”
“I met her at the London Library,” said Ian, “a couple days ago. She looked so much like the picture that you showed me of Elisabeth and then, last night at her birthday, she had a premonition and I knew it was her. Abby, come sit.”
Ian led me over to a dark, leather couch that sat just in front of the desk. I took a seat, and he sat down next to me. It was a little too close for me, but I let it go.
Mathias walked in front of the couch and turned to face us, hands behind his back. He looked almost like one of my professor's while I was in class.
"This place," Mathias began, "was built long ago. Abigail, you are part of a society of individuals that has been in charge of something very powerful for thousands of years. This society of people is very involved with the governments throughout various countries. We remain hidden, for our powers would be too much for the human race to handle and understand.
"Our place in government allows us, certain privileges. For example, our society has quite a few influential people also working in the government. We were able to persuade, shall we say, where U.K. Parliament would be built so that we could preserve our secret location. We are called the Timekeepers."
I had taken in everything Mathias had been saying, but the words that continued to be on repeat in my head were powers and Timekeepers.
"The Timekeepers have the gift of the sight," Mathias continued. "We are able to travel to the past as well as foresee events that might happen in the future. Our role in society is to record time, measure it, and keep it protected. Humanity and its history could very much be lost if it was not for our role in this world. We use a powerful force called the Time Line to help us measure and record history. It is our job to keep time constant and moving, otherwise, time could easily stop and that would very much affect the future of this planet."
My mind was producing one question after another.
"I can hear voices," I finally said. "
They talk to me."
"Those voices," Mathias answered, "would be part of the sight. They are usually one of the first signs of the ability to appear in a child Timekeeper. Once the Timekeeper turns eighteen however, those voices will usually manifest into full-fledged premonitions."
I passively nodded.
"I saw someone die," I said, "yesterday. Before it happened."
"That was when I knew it had to be your child," Ian spoke up.
"I should have prevented it," I admitted.
"No!"
Mathias had raised his voice. A slight flush graced his cheeks. I suddenly felt ashamed of something I had said. What was so terrible about wanting to prevent someone's death?
"Mathias," Ian said, "she doesn't know."
Mathias' expression cooled off a bit.
"I'm sorry," Mathias said, "I forget sometimes that not everyone knows everything about our world. Abigail, if you would be interested, I'd like for you to come here as much as possible to learn about this world. To learn about us. I understand you've never been a part of it, but I'd like for you to join us. I understand that all of this might be a bit much for one day, but if you come back, I promise you answers. But I want to let you know of an important rule. That rule is that we do not inform outsiders of our abilities, except in the case of a spouse. There are people that know about our world, but these people are approved by the council to know. You must seek approval, and have a very specific reason, if you want outsiders to be knowledgeable of our world."
I nodded; however, I was more focused on him giving me answers—the one thing that I had been searching for for so long. I had an answer for the voices. I had an answer for the visions. But did I have an answer for who I was? Why my mother left me? I still wasn't sure of my place in this world—what I was meant to do. Joining this world—being a Timekeeper—it scared me. But it also fascinated me. I wanted to learn. However, I was not sure if this was something I wanted to confide in everyone else, just yet.
There was no going back now.
"I will."
The fire crackled in the grate in Phillip's apartment. Warm air touched my skin; it made me feel comfort. Phillip was studying at his desk, several books out in front of him. I was reading the copy of A Tale of Two Cities that I had checked out.
I continued to read the same quotation over and over again. It brought back memories of the things that I had learned today.
I read to myself, "If, when I hint to you of a Home that is before us, where I will be true to you with all my duty and with all my faithful service, I bring back the remembrance of a Home long desolate, while your poor heart pined away, weep for it, weep for it!"
Finally, I tore my eyes away from the book. I looked at Phillip. His focus was entirely on his studies. He looked peaceful and vulnerable. How could I not tell him? I had to tell him.
"No, you don't. Don't trust them."
I did not understand these voices; they could not be from the future.
“Don't trust her."
Her? It sounded like two different voices going back and forth, but they both sounded the same in some aspects. But Phillip I could trust; I didn't have to listen to the voices.
"Phillip."
Phillip looked up from the book he was reading and gazed in my direction. He grinned at me, his dimples going up in both directions.
"Yes?"
"Will you come here for a second? I need to tell you something."
He pushed the chair back and was over to the couch before I could say another word. He sat down next to me, pulling me close to his chest.
"I didn't say cradle me," I joked.
"What is going on?"
Would he be mad at me for not telling him sooner? Maybe. Would he still love me? Yes. He always would. I told him about Ian knowing that I could hear voices. I told him about Ian taking me to Parliament, and finally about meeting my father. And finally, I told him about being a Timekeeper and having powers. I knew that I was technically breaking a rule, but we were engaged, so I felt like it was okay.
"Holy shit."
Really? That was his response. It was entirely Phillip. I shouldn't be surprised.
"I'm going back tomorrow with Ian."
"I don't like him."
I couldn't help but raise my eyebrows.
"I'm assuming you don't like him because I consider him a friend and like to spend time with him—as friends."
"You are perfectly capable of spending time with people," Phillip countered, "I'm not the jealous type. There is just something about him that rubs me the wrong way, that's all."
After informing Phillip that Ian was a nice person, that he was just a friend, and how I didn't see anything wrong with him, we talked about the Timekeeping.
"I just don't know if it is something I want to do."
"It's your choice," Phillip said, "but if you don't mind my saying, I think you should."
"I think I will," I said, "I'm just afraid. I've wanted to find myself and here I am. Finding myself. But it feels like more and more questions are coming up."
Phillip kissed my forehead, and then whispered to me softly.
"Don't be afraid. It will be okay. I promise."
CHAPTER FIVE
The next morning, snow stuck to the ground. The city of London was blanketed in white powder. It wasn't terrible. The snow had already finished by the time day broke and the roads were not treacherous. Ian and I had come up with a designated time to meet outside the Parliament. He stood in front of the visitor's entrance, hands in pockets. He had his usual grin on his face and his sandy blond hair was disheveled.
"Afternoon, Miss."
"Afternoon," I replied. He had on black trousers and a tweed jacket. On his jacket was the usual badge that said he was an employee in maintenance. I couldn't help but giggle when I saw it.
"Might I ask what is so funny?"
"Why, your maintenance badge, sir," I responded.
Ian led me down the same hallways and into the basement of Parliament.
"Are you able to get into the clock tower?" I asked.
"Of course. I am maintenance after all. I'll take you up there someday."
"I'd like that."
For the first time in a while, things felt like they were going in the right direction. Ian was someone I liked being around and I hoped he'd consider us being friends. I needed more friends in my life.
Mathias stood in front of his mahogany desk, leaning on it just slightly. Ian sat in the chair behind it.
"Today," Mathias began, "I think we should start with the history of the Timekeepers. What you might find fascinating about us is that at some point in time, we lost our history. This is why we consider it even more important to record history, not only for us, but for the human world as well. Thousands of years ago, it is rumored that there was one family who had the power to control time, manipulate it, and use it. The family supposedly took great care in this gift and passed it on to their children. However, at some point, they decided to start a society, because it was shown that they could not care for the whole world's history on their own."
"Why did we need Timekeepers in the first place?" I asked.
"We need them to keep the Time Line going," Mathias said. "If for some reason, the human history is lost, we have it. We can keep the Time Line going. We keep time. It is what we were called to do."
I decided to ask about my mother. I needed to know about her, just as much as everything else.
"Tell me about my mother."
Ian got a little tense behind Mathias, but he stayed quiet.
"Abigail," Mathias began, "I'm going to be honest with you in all of this."
I nodded. The truth was what I was here for.
"First," Mathias began, "your mother, my wife, Elisabeth, is dead. She was an amazing woman—always happy. If she ever had difficulties, she did not show them. Which is why I believe she did not tell me some of the things that went on in her life before she died. What I know is that in the last
few months of her pregnancy with you, she began to act strange. She began to lock herself in her room and I have no idea why. She did not wish to speak with me. I assumed she was mad at me, but now I believe she was trying to protect me from something. Obviously, if I had found out what it was, I would have done everything I could to protect her and help her. Which is why she probably didn't tell me anything."
Mathias reached forward and poured himself some tea from a pot on the coffee table. He sipped at it casually like we were at a tea party. He offered me a cup but I declined.
"Toward the end of her pregnancy, she disappeared," Mathias said. "She left no note; no clue as to where she had gone. The next day, her body was found hanging from the Tower Bridge. Obviously, it was deemed as a suicide, but I felt in my heart that this wasn't the truth. She was a strong, courageous woman, your mother. She wouldn't leave her family like that, not without good reason. I feel she was in danger, and the reason she did not tell me was because she wanted us both to be safe. But I had no way of knowing you were alive either, until Ian brought you here. Otherwise… well, otherwise I would have been searching for you."
"Are we still in danger?"
Mathias simply shrugged his shoulders. "That I cannot answer. I have not received any threats from outsiders in all these years, nor have I ever considered myself to be under any danger. I trusted that if you were alive, you were safe. I had to."
I sat motionless for a moment. I felt like the only thing I was getting were more questions instead of answers. I had a strong desire to understand what happened to the woman who protected me. She was the reason I was left with Mr. and Mrs. Jordan. My father had nothing to do it with it. I knew she was trying to protect me, but from what, I didn't know. I had to know.
"So...this time thing," I said, "does that mean I can time travel?"
"That is not possible," Mathias stated. "We can visit events in the past, but that is all. With the future, we only know what we think will happen based on the premonitions, but there is no way for us to actually travel into the future, as far as we have discovered anyway."