The Time of the Clockmaker Read Online Free Page A

hadn’t seen it before, and the only place I would have heard of it was if it had been in articles online, or shown on public televisions in electronic-store windows. I didn’t even know what it was called, since I had tuned in partway through.
    My eyes flickered over to Miss Hatfield to see what she thought of the show I had picked. She seemed engrossed already,trying to figure out the family dynamics while biting into a pot sticker.
    â€œDo you think those two are related?” she asked, pointing to two of the kids.
    â€œI don’t know. It’s hard to tell.”
    I grabbed a carton of the fried rice and sank into the couch.
    This episode seemed to be mainly about two gay parents worried about their newly adopted baby’s behavioral development. Most of the comedy was in the parents panicking over things the baby both did and didn’t do, like talk or walk.
    Miss Hatfield shook her head. “I don’t understand why they can’t be content with what the baby can do. She’s healthy. They should be thankful that that’s the case and there isn’t anything more seriously wrong with her.”
    â€œPerhaps they’re worried that the baby not talking may be an indication that she might have a greater problem . . . like a disease or something,” I offered.
    â€œStill. It seems foolish.”
    â€œThey just seem to be worried,” I said.
    â€œI know, and that’s why they’re foolish. They’re investing all this time and energy into something so trivial.”
    â€œBut it’s their child.” I was struck by the fact that she saw the baby’s health as trivial.
    But all she said was, “There’s more to worry about in life.”
    I paused. “I should think that as a parent, you’d worry about your own child, and that would be a primary part of your life.”
    â€œEven if one worries, there’s only so much one can do.”
    I supposed I should have expected this kind of cynicism from Miss Hatfield. It had technically been only about a coupleof months since I had rejoined her after leaving 1904, but it felt like an eternity with her, and I thought I should have known she would say something like this. After all, she did essentially give up her child. . . . But I knew I couldn’t blame her for that. She knew she was immortal, and I guessed she didn’t want her child to have to deal with that growing up. At least, that’s what I would have thought in that situation.
    â€œYou have to take care of yourself first. Even if that means taking care of yourself before family,” Miss Hatfield said. “Those who think otherwise are either weak or deluded. Maybe both.”
    I put down the carton of food I was holding. “What if you take care of yourself by taking care of the people you love?” I pointed at the screen. “I mean, they all look so happy to just be around one another. Even when they’re worried beyond belief, they seem satisfied just being with family. Maybe that’s how they take care of each other.”
    Miss Hatfield shook her head slowly, but this time she was looking at me instead of the television screen. “You’re still young. Your views will change as more time passes.”
    I was doubtful but remained silent.
    She turned back to the TV show.
    I wished I had picked another show. Not because Miss Hatfield had her own opinions—I was used to that by now—but because watching the family on-screen made me hurt more than I had in a long time, since leaving the people I loved. Watching the family bicker and laugh together forced what I was missing back into my thoughts. Sure, it was obvious on the street, with families walking their dog together and couples sitting on thebenches hand in hand, but here, actually sitting down to watch a family interact, I had nothing to distract myself with. It was in plain sight, and I had to watch.
    We watched three or