Chapters and the Hourglass of Time

  “You have five minutes left,” the teacher announced.

  Not enough time, thought Billy desperately. Then a lucky thought struck him; he had all the time in the world sitting right there in his schoolbag. Of course! Why didn’t he think of it before? Trying to be as casual as possible, Billy leaned down to reach his bag.

  It wasn’t there.

  A cold sweat covered Billy’s back. He glanced around. Everyone was working on the test with their heads down.

  This can’t be happening, thought Billy. He was shocked.

  When he looked back, his eyes locked with another pair staring right at him. It was Kyle—a skinny short boy with blond hair. He earned his nickname Pilot Fish for hanging around Justin Downhill, also known as Big White, named like that after the great white shark for his size and short temper.

  Kyle stared at Billy with a spiteful grin on his face. Justin sat next to him. On his lap, he was holding Billy’s bag. “Hey, Billy boy, got something to eat?” Justin asked, opening the bag. “I’m telling you, I’m hungry, man.”

  If he takes out the hourglass and flips it over, everything will be finished, Billy thought with dread.

  Justin sunk his hand into Billy’s bag. “What’s that?” he felt around inside the bag. “Oh man, it’s a toy!”

  The next moment, the unthinkable happened. In a split second, Billy covered the distance of the three desks between him and Justin, grabbed the strap of his bag and with all his strength yanked it out of Justin’s hands. It happened so fast and unexpectedly that Justin couldn’t do anything to stop it. For a moment, he was stunned. No one ever dared to do anything like that to him. Justin stood up with a loud noise. Billy quickly returned to his desk.

  “Finished your work, Justin?” the teacher asked.

  “Almost,” Justin said through his teeth. He gave Billy a heavy look and said again, “Almost.”

  “You better start praying,” Kyle hissed, “’cause you are dead.”

  The school buzzer rang. Billy handed his work to the teacher and hurriedly left the classroom. He followed the corridor and headed to his locker. His body was shaking. Then he heard a loud voice behind him.

  “Hey, zombie! Where do you think you’re going?”

  Billy turned around. Kyle was right behind him and Justin was a few steps away.

  “I am not a zombie,” Billy said.

  “Sure you are,” Justin said, approaching, “’cause you are a dead man walking.”

  Billy helplessly gazed around. He saw a door to the boys’ bathroom and ran inside. That was a mistake—now he was trapped. Justin followed him in.

  “How come you’re not so fast anymore, huh?” He pushed Billy hard in his chest. Billy lost his balance and began to fall.

  Just before Billy hit the floor he grabbed his bag with both arms to protect the hourglass and accidentally flipped it over. Everything stopped. There was not a single movement, not a single sound. Justin stood there frozen with his body leaning forward, one foot dangling in the air, his face distorted with anger.

  The first thought in Billy’s mind was to run as fast as possible and as far as possible. He hastily lifted his schoolbag, trying to keep it upside down. A bunch of markers and crayons fell out of the side pocket and scattered on the floor. Billy sighed and started to gather them. When he picked up the last marker he had an idea. He went close to Justin and, using a black marker, drew a big curly mustache on his face. He stepped back to admire his art with a big smile. Then he went back and added two big circles around the eyes. Satisfied, Billy grabbed his bag and ran towards the door. At that moment everything went back to normal, and Kyle appeared at the doorway, blocking the only exit.

  Oh no, Bill thought.

  “Hey, how did you get there?” asked Justin as he turned around.

  Kyle looked at him and unexpectedly burst into laughter. Billy couldn’t hold it back either.

  “Have you two gone mad?” Justin roared. Then he caught a glance of himself in the mirror. “Who did this?” The angry look on his face with the funny mustache and glasses made him look even more ridiculous.

  Kyle crouched by the doorway holding his stomach with his hands, unable to stop laughing, which allowed Billy to slide out of the bathroom without a problem. The last thing he saw when he looked back was Justin trying to wash away the ink.

  Good luck with that, Billy thought with a smirk. He used a permanent marker.

  That day Justin and Kyle didn’t show up for the rest of their classes.

  * * *

  Chapter Five

  The Secret

  Billy felt great, like never before. He had two reasons for that. One—he had overcome his fear of Justin; and two—he still had his secret. The thought of knowing something that no one knew about, of having something that no one had, made him feel special.

  At first, Billy wanted to tell everyone about the hourglass. Then he realized that if he did, it wouldn’t be a secret anymore. Besides, the adults would probably try to take it away from him, and he couldn’t let that happen.

  He thought about all the inscriptions and diagrams etched into the stone plate. They must mean something. He had to take a closer look. Since he couldn’t take the hourglass out of the bag without attracting unnecessary attention, he decided to make a sketch. During his next class he drew a picture with all three circles and dividing lines on a sheet of paper trying to be as close as possible to the original. However, he drew the ancient symbols approximately, as it would’ve taken too much time to make an exact copy.

  He studied the drawings while eating a sandwich in the school lunchroom, until a soft voice interrupted his concentration.

  “Hello again, Billy Somers.”

  Anna-Maria was standing beside his table, holding a tray with her lunch.

  “Oh hey. Hi!” said Billy.

  “Is this seat taken?”

  “No, not at all.”

  Billy gathered the drawings, pretending he was cleaning the table.

  “What are you drawing? Are you making a watch?” asked Anna-Maria as she sat down across from him.

  “A watch?” asked Billy. “Why a watch?” After a little hesitation, he placed the paper back on the table.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Looks like a watch to me. You see these twelve lines.” She pointed at the smallest circle. “Like twelve o’clock, six o’clock, you know?”

  “Yeah, you may be right.” Billy stared at the paper. He had never thought of the circles as a clock.

  “What do you mean, ‘may be’?” She peeled back the lid on her yogurt cup. “You don’t know what it is?”

  “Well, you see, I got this, uh . . . thing.”

  Anna-Maria looked at him, puzzled, but Billy wasn’t ready to be open about his secret just yet. “Yeah, with all these engravings on it,” he continued, “and I’m kind of trying to figure out what they could possibly mean.”

  “Can I see?” asked Anna-Maria.

  “Sure.” Billy slid the paper to her.

  She stared at it for a moment. “Interesting ornament.”

  “Where?”

  “Here.” She pointed to the biggest circle on the drawing.

  “It’s not an ornament. These are writings.”

  “Huh, interesting language, though.”

  Billy shrugged. “Well, it’s not an exact copy,” he said. “Just a sketch.”

  “I see,” said Anna-Maria. “Maybe one day you can show me that thing and I could help you with the translation.”

  “What could you possibly know about this?” Billy looked at her with a doubtful frown.

  “Well, I recognized the watch right away and you didn’t.” She took a spoonful of her yogurt.

  That was true, Billy thought.

  “We don’t know for sure it’s a watch,” he said.

  “Whatever,” she replied, seeming to losing her interest.

  “Okay, okay!” Billy said, shaking off last hesitations. “But you have to promise you won’t tell a
nyone, not a single soul.”

  “I am as mute as a fish.” She zipped her lips. “Where is it?”

  “Here.” Billy opened his bag so that she could see inside.

  “Wow!” she exclaimed. “What is it?”

  “It’s an hourglass.”

  “Let me see.” She reached inside the bag but he quickly snatched it shut.

  “Are you crazy? Don’t take it out!”

  “Why not?” she asked. “Did you steal it?”

  “Of course not!”

  She glared at Billy, waiting for an explanation.

  “I’m just trying to keep a low profile, okay?” he said.

  Anna-Maria nodded. “No problem. What do you know about it so far?”

  “Well, not much. I just made a sketch, and I know that the small circle is probably a watch.”

  She raised her eyebrows at him.

  “We,” Billy corrected. “We know that the small circle is probably a watch. But what about the other circles? And what are these holes for?” He pulled the drawing back to him and pointed out the three little holes in the middle of the top plate.

  “I don’t know,” said Anna-Maria. “Maybe something has to be inserted in there, some sort of key. Or maybe it’s just a way to open the hourglass to replace the sand.”

  She paused for a moment, thinking. “Anyway,” she continued, “don’t you think we should start with the writings? Maybe they’re some kind of instructions.”

  “Right,” agreed Billy, “but it’s going to take forever to make an exact copy.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Open the bag.”

  Billy wasn’t sure where she was going with this, but did what she asked. Anna-Maria took her cell phone out of her pocket, pointed it at the upper plate of the hourglass and snapped a photo of it.

  “Of course!” Billy exclaimed. “So easy!”

  “Let’s go to the computer lab,” Anna-Maria suggested.

  They cleaned up their lunch trays, then grabbed their bags and headed up to the second floor. In the lab, Anna-Maria connected her cell phone to the computer and downloaded the photo file. The image of the upper plate appeared on the screen. Then she pressed “Print” and, after a few seconds, the picture came out of the printer. She picked up the printout and admired the detailed copy.

  “Excellent,” she said.

  “You are good.”

  “Thank you, Billy Somers. I get that a lot.”

  “Show off,” Billy said with a smile.

  “Now all we have to do is translate the writings.”

  “Piece of cake,” Billy said. “Any ideas?”

  She smirked. “Not really. How about you?”

  “Honestly, I have no idea where to start,” said Billy. “We don’t even know what language it’s in.”

  “Right.” Then Anna-Maria narrowed her eyes. “Where would you go if you had to research something?”

  “The school library?” Billy guessed.

  “Exactly!”

  The school buzzer went off, calling them back to the classrooms.

  “See you at the library after classes,” said Billy as he stuffed the picture in his schoolbag.

  “See you there,” said Anna-Maria.

  Right after school Billy and Anna-Maria met in the library. They showed the picture to Ms. Higgins, the elderly school librarian. “This language seems familiar,” she said, “but to be honest with you, I don’t think I can find anything useful for you in here. By the way,” she asked, handing the picture back to Billy, “what do you need it for?”

  “Well, uh…” started Billy.

  Anna-Maria stepped in. “We are working on a history project.”

  “Oh, history?” Ms. Higgins exclaimed. “In that case, your best choice would be the university library and the history department faculty. They should be able to help you.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Higgins,” Billy said and they headed out to the hall. Then he turned to Anna-Maria and added, “Good thing the university is on the way home.”

  “Let’s go, then.”

  They left the school and caught the bus to the university campus. Billy was glad to have Anna-Maria by his side, but he wasn’t yet ready to share the magical power of the hourglass. Everything in time, he thought.

  * * *

  Chapter Six

  The Mystery of a Century

  The university campus was huge. By the time Billy and Anna-Maria found the library, it was getting dark. When the kids entered the library’s main hall, they suddenly stopped, struck by the sight before them. The auditorium was vast, yet everywhere they looked there were shelves full of books of different sizes and covers.

  “There must be thousands of them,” Billy whispered, mesmerized.

  Never before had Billy or Anna-Maria seen so many books gathered together in one place. Their school library looked like a closet compared to this place. In the middle of the hall was a big round desk where a couple of studious librarians were seated. Billy and Anna-Maria approached them.

  “Hi,” said Anna-Maria. “We would like to have this translated.” She handed the picture to the man behind the desk.

  “I am afraid we don’t provide such a service in here,” he answered, looking back at her eyes. Then he happened to glance at the picture and stopped. “Oh. Interesting . . . Very interesting.” He studied the image for some time. “This language seems to be very old,” he finally said. “I don’t think you will be able to find a dictionary to simply translate this. However,” he said and paused, “there is a person who might be able to help you.”

  The kids’ faces lit up.

  “Do you see that man over there?” The librarian pointed at an old man sitting at the far end of the hall, leaning over some books. “His name is Professor Bauman. Show him your picture, see what he says.”

  “Thanks a lot!”

  “We really appreciate your help!”

  The kids hurried to the professor’s desk.

  “Professor Bauman?” asked Billy.

  “At your service.” The professor took his eyes off his book and gazed over the rims of his glasses. His face registered slight surprise. “You are much younger than my usual audience,” he said. “How may I assist you?”

  Billy put the photocopy on the desk.

  The professor looked at the picture. Then he looked at Billy. Then back at the picture. Then he leaned back in his chair, removed his glasses and covered his eyes with his hand. He seemed to be very tired yet excited.

  Moments passed. Neither Billy nor Anna-Maria dared to break the silence. Finally, the professor put his hand down and looked at Billy.

  “Where did you get this?”

  Billy didn’t expect such a direct question. He didn’t know what to say.

  “We took the picture from a magazine,” Anna-Maria interjected.

  Billy gave her a “thank you” look.

  “What magazine?” the professor asked.

  “We don’t remember,” Billy said, finally catching up. “We are working on a school assignment where we’re supposed to pick any theme or subject from any scientific magazine and research about it. It’s really nothing.”

  “Nothing?” roared the professor. “What you just so carelessly called ‘nothing,’ young man, some people used to call ‘the greatest discovery of the century.’”

  “You know what it is then?” Billy asked.

  “Of course I know what it is,” Professor Bauman snapped. It took some time for him to calm down. When he finally did, he pointed to the chairs beside his desk. “Please, have a seat.”

  Billy and Anna-Maria sat on the other side of the professor’s desk. With genuine excitement in his voice, he continued.

  “Back in the 1920s, during an archeological expedition in China, the fragments of a stone plate that looked exactly like this one were discovered among other extraordinary artifacts .”

  “Another plate?” Billy exclaimed.

  “Precisely,” said the professor, “another plate. Unfortunat
ely, only half of the plate survived. To make it worse, most of the writings were in bad shape. And from the very few fragments, scientists could only determine the language origins and translate a few words. And here is where the mystery lies.” The professor paused and gave Billy and Anna-Maria a mysterious look. They held their breath. “But first, let me ask what you know about this artifact. There must’ve been an article in that magazine about it.”

  “Oh no, not really,” said Billy, “just a picture with some others.” He hated himself for being forced to lie like this. “We do have a thought, however.” Billy saw the opportunity to hear the professor’s opinion about Anna-Maria’s idea. “We think that a small circle in the middle may possibly be a watch.”

  “A watch?” asked the professor. “Interesting. What makes you think so?”

  “Well, twelve lines, twelve spaces. You know, three o’clock, nine o’clock…”

  “I see. And the holes in the middle are probably where there used to be a small hand and a large hand?”

  “Yeah, right!” Billy replied, looking happily at Anna-Maria, pleased that her theory had merit.

  “Well, I hate to disappoint you, but it’s not a watch.” The professor responded, then paused. “It’s a calendar.”

  “A calendar?” the kids repeated in unison.

  “Yes, a calendar. These twelve spaces signify the twelve months of the year. The name of the month is written under each line. If you count the number of lines on the next circle you’ll find thirty-one—the maximum number of days in a month.”

  So simple, thought Billy. He was ashamed that he couldn’t figure this out by himself.

  “You were saying that there was some mystery about it,” said Anna-Maria.

  “Right, the mystery . . .” The professor continued, stroking his chin. “You see, the writings on the plate are in Ancient Egyptian. This language goes back to 3000 B.C. and was a main trade language in the ancient Middle East. The calendar carved on the plate, however, is Gregorian—that’s the one that we use today. It was first introduced in Europe at the end of the sixteenth century A.D.”

  “Somebody could’ve used old language to carve the calendar,” suggested Anna-Maria.

  “That’s what everybody thought at the beginning,” said the professor. “That was before thorough stone analyses were performed. It appeared that the plate and the writings were both dated to about 3000 B.C.”