The Mystery of the Unstuck Clock

The Mystery of the Unstuck Clock

The school clock was an imposing, silent sentinel perched high on the main building, its hands perpetually frozen at ten minutes past three. It was a well-known fact of school life, a monument to the relentless march of time that had simply decided to stop. No one knew why, and no one seemed to care. The clock’s silence was a comfort, a sign that the last class of the day was always, in theory, just ten minutes away.

That is, until the last week of term. As the boys were milling about in the schoolyard, the clock’s minute hand gave a shudder, a groan, and then, with a slow, deliberate tick, it moved. It moved again. And again. By the end of the day, it had reached a quarter past three. The next day, it moved even further.

The boys were in a state of quiet panic. A moving clock was a profound violation of the natural order of things. Whispers of a curse spread through the school. To Tony and Gerard, however, this was a clear sign of a magical event. “It’s a temporal anomaly,” Tony whispered to Gerard during a lunch of suspiciously gray sausages. “The clock isn’t just moving; it’s counting down! It’s ticking towards some great event, a moment in time when all of Saint Ignatius will… disappear!”

Gerard, the taller and more cautious of the two, had a more logical (though still fantastical) theory. “It’s a magical parasite, Tony. Some creature has been feeding on the stopped time, and now that it’s full, it’s making the clock move again. We need to find the parasite and get rid of it.”

Their plan, the “Clockwork Confrontation,” was to stake out the clock tower. Armed with binoculars and a bag of toffees for sustenance, they climbed the forbidden stairs to the roof of the main building. They had a perfect view. They waited. The clock ticked on, slowly, inexorably. As they watched, a small, dark shape flew out from behind the clock face and landed on the roof.

Tony and Gerard froze. It wasn’t a time-eating parasite. It was a pigeon. But not just any pigeon. This one had a small, metal device strapped to its leg. The device was vibrating slightly, making a soft clicking sound. They watched as the pigeon pecked at the device, then flew back behind the clock face. The clock’s hands shuddered and moved another few minutes forward.

Just as the boys were processing this, a voice boomed from the ground below. “A fine afternoon for birdwatching, boys!”

It was the Headmaster. He was holding a small, walkie-talkie-like device. Their mission, once again, was a failure. They were marched back to their dormitory, and this time, the Headmaster explained everything.

“The clock isn’t magical, boys. It’s broken. It hasn’t worked in years.” He then held up his walkie-talkie. “I’ve been trying a new experiment. We’ve attached a small, motorized device to a pigeon’s leg. Every time the bird lands behind the clock face, it triggers a mechanism that moves the hands forward.” He smiled. “I’m trying to see if we can get the clock to tell the correct time by the end of the term. A test of engineering, if you will. And a rather good way to keep the pigeons away from the roof.”

Tony and Gerard’s grand adventure had ended not with a temporal anomaly or a magical parasite, but with a bizarre, low-tech attempt at timekeeping.

As the boys were sent to their rooms, Tony couldn’t help but be impressed. “A pigeon, Gerry. He was using a pigeon to tell the time.”

Gerard just shook his head. “The magic is becoming more mundane, Tony. We have to be more vigilant. We’ll find it eventually.”

What do you think their next adventure should be?