Like Clockwork Read Online Free PDF Page B

last evening either, as this thing recollects.”
    “Oh, we’re going to start with that again
are we ...?”
    “ This thing did not ask to be taken
home by her. Or to be – ”
    “What? Hmm? To be what? Huh?”
    The clicking subsided.
    “Please,” it said. “Please. This thing is
truly grateful for your hospitality. Truly, it only wished to make amends. It
is sorry it has offended. It did not mean any harm, or disrespect.”
    She opened the bathroom door.
    “You cleaned ... you cleaned the sink,” she
said.
    “Please,” it said. “It is lost. It does not
know this place. This – ” it looked around, its shoulders slumping with a creak;
“it is all terribly confusing. It – ” a sigh of gears as he slumped a little
more; “it desperately needs assistance, and would be truly grateful for Miss
Evie’s help.”
    She looked at Adam then, and something in
the way he stood reminded her of how she’d found him, forlorn and frozen in the
woods, a statue, god knows how old. The house was spotless. She folded her
arms.
    “How long?”
    “Pardon?”
    “How long will you need to stay?”
    “It is looking for a Mr. Stephen Shepherd.
Once it has found him, this thing will go.” Adam looked at her from out of the
corner of his rolling round eye, lowering his head slightly, before those
copper balls clicked to look at the floor once again.
    “It will do its utmost to not become an – ”
he clicked. “An inconvenience.”
    She heard a few soft whirs and clicks, very
muffled.
    “A week,” she said at last. “One week, and
then you’re out of here.” She’d been through couch-surfers before. She knew if
she gave him longer, he’d just ... always be there.
    “A week,” he said,
and clicked for a moment. “Miss Evie, forgive this thing, but, what day is it?”
    “Saturday,” she said. “You’ve got until
Sunday to find this Stephen guy.” Shit. She’d just gone and given him one more
day.
    “Ah,” he said. There was a long pause.
“And. Forgive it, but ... what year is it?” She stared at him, and yet somehow
she wasn’t surprised. There had been weeds and vines growing up all around him
in that clearing.
    “It’s ... it’s 2012,” she said, softly.
    “Ah,” he said. “It ... please forgive. It
had set its clock by Miss Evie’s – ” he gestured, somehow loosely, despite it
being a tight wind of gears and cogs. Something about him seemed quite undone.
“It was ... it did not know how much time had actually passed.” Evie took a
step towards him, her hand reaching out  to touch his shoulder ( its ) and
then dropped again.
    “How long have you been out there?”
    He looked at her then, those copper eyes
and frozen face hidden, closed.
    “Quite some time,” he said. “Quite a long
time.” And that was all.
    “Yeah. Well ....” She stepped back. “Right.
One week.”
    “Yes, Miss Evie. It thanks you.”
    She turned away, digging into her pocket
for the now crushed pack of cigarettes. “Mmmm,” she said, pulling one out and
opening the front door. “I’ll be right back.” She turned to stare at him, but
he was still looking at the space in the hall where she had been. “ Don’t clean anything.”
    “Yes, Miss Evie,” he said, still staring at
that spot, alone in the apartment once more.
    She flew down the stairs to the front door,
lighting the cigarette before she even remembered the infuriating “No smoking!
Our children have a right to breathe too!” signs some asshole had plastered all
over the halls of the condo building. She sucked in the smoke, and held it in
until she was outside, puffing and pacing under the awning in the rain. She
looked up at the building, and saw Adam standing at the window. He wasn’t
looking down. He was still, a statue of bronze and copper once more, looking
out across the skyscrapers and condos of False Creek, the blinking lights of
the Science Expo dome as it flickered blue to green to white as the sun set
below a long dark blanket of