An Adventure in Time

By Thalia S. A, age 11

HOP!

There goes Pearl, leaping into the timepiece.

SKIP! 

Zayd bounds in after her.

LEAP! 

Then I get in, too. 

Oh. Right. You’re probably pondering over the peculiar thought that my bestie, brother and I are vaulting into an old bit of machinery. Well, I don’t blame you. It really is an odd thing to do. But the reason behind it is that this very timepiece isn’t an ordinary one. It’s magic!

* 

It was a Saturday morning. The sun blazed through my window. Clouds trailed in the sky. Oh yes, this was a perfect day. And that’s code word for hanging out with your best friend.

When I got downstairs, Pearl was already pawing at the door, eagerly waiting to be let in. I swung it open and waved hello to my friend. 

“Hello, Pearl!” I beamed, bending down to pat her head. “How are you today?”

“Meow,” Pearl purred. She pressed her silvery head against my leg. 

“I’ll take that as an, I’m feeling great,” I giggled. 

Today Pearl had something crammed in her mouth. I could tell that from the way her cheeks were bulging like a hamster’s. I gently pried her jaws open, waiting for the stench of decayed bird to waft out. However, when she placed the rotting animal onto the ground, I learnt it wasn’t a rotting animal after all. It was a bronze timepiece. 

“Meow,” Pearl purred again. 

She nudged the ancient clock, even though it was dripping with saliva. I plucked it from the floor and studied it closely. It was rather antique, its hands still and silent. 

Suddenly I felt a harsh poke in the ribs. 

“Ow,” I moaned. “Zayd, don’t do that.”

Zayd’s my little brother, if you hadn’t guessed. Siblings like him get on your nerves all the time, don’t they? 

“Sorry,” Zayd responded, not sounding in the slightest bit remorseful. Then he asked me a question. “What’s that?” 

“Her name’s Pearl, and she’s a cat. Shouldn’t you know that?” I replied. 

“No, not her, that!” This time he gestured towards the object in my hand.

“Oh, that’s just a, erm, gift from Pearl,” I explained.

Zayd took it from me. “Yeah, a gift drenched in spit,” he remarked, and placed it back in my hands. “Though it’s quite special.”

“Special?” I questioned. 

“Special,” he repeated. “Because it’s still ticking.” 

If minds could explode, my mind would’ve exploded there and then. It was still ticking! But when I first picked it up… it wasn’t moving at all. 

“Erm,” I began, “it wasn’t ticking when I first touched it.”

“Meow!” Pearl nodded. “I must be magic, then,” Zayd bragged. 

“Yeah, right,” I scoffed. “All hail Harry Potter.” 

“Anyway, don’t you wanna investigate this timepiece further?” my brother queried. 

“Uh… no. Not really,” I admitted.

“Well, I’ll take it, then,” Zayd declared, snatching the clock out of my hands. He began walking away. “After all, I’m pretty sure I wanna figure out why it’s glowing…”

“Have fun,” I retorted dryly. Then I paused. “Wait. It’s glowing?” I started hurtling towards him. “Wait! Wait for me!”

*

“Told you so,” Zayd grinned. 

We were in the boy’s cluttered but cosy room, observing the peculiar timepiece with great interest. Pearl was there too, licking a paw. And like my brother had said, it was glowing. It was emitting a ghostly golden light. 

I hoisted up a hand to stroke Pearl. 

My hand felt the floor, not fur.

“Huh?” I thought out loud.

I scanned the room for my beloved cat. 

She was heaving the clock’s hands anticlockwise. 

She kept pushing and pushing and pushing… 

HOP! 

She hurdled right into the timepiece. 

As soon as her paws brushed against the clock, they seemed to disappear, letting her whole body sink down, until she’d vanished entirely into the timepiece. 

“WHAT?!” I yelped, dashing over to the clockwork. “Where’d she go?”

“Into the timepiece, of course,” Zayd answered, seeming quite calm. But then he looked up at me with glimmering eyes. “So we’re going in, too.” 

SKIP! 

Zayd bounded in after her. 

LEAP! 

And finally, I slipped inside. 

*

I opened my eyes. 

A cranky old man was glaring down at me.

“Oi!” he bellowed. “What’re you doin’? Get up and sweep.” 

He thrust a rank brush into my hands. I just gawked. Where was I? Where were Zayd and Pearl? Who was this man? 

“‘Hurry up,” he hissed, shoving me towards a chimney. “Go climb and clean.” 

I gulped and scuttled away from this terrifying person, then began ascending the grotty vent. Holding my breath, I began scraping away grime. It was disgusting! It was so shadowy and dreary, and the dust got into my throat, making it hard to breathe. I began coughing. 

“Cough! Cough!” 

“Shut up and do yer work!” thundered the man. 

I stifled another wheeze and carried on. 

By the end of the day, I’d cleaned out seven whole chimneys. My face was smeared with soot and my legs were bruised all over. 

The man shoved a meagre bit of bread in my lap. I supposed it was my dinner. Then I peered at it closely. It was absolutely tiny! Even my breakfast had been bigger than that. 

Despite this, I forced it down my throat. I had to eat. 

“Now go to bed,” he went on. “Yer sharin’ a bed with this ugly boy and a cat. He insisted on keepin’ it.”

I sped away from him and darted through a nearby door. I discovered a bed behind it… with Zayd and Pearl! 

“Zayd! Pearl!” I beamed. 

“Sis!” Zayd gasped. He sprinted over to me despite looking worn out. “Ugh, your face. It’s dirty.”

“So is yours,” I pointed out. 

“Meow,” Pearl welcomed me. 

“Well, this is a nice reunion, but we’ve gotta get back!” Zayd interrupted. 

“Oh yeah,” I murmured. “But how?” 

Pearl licked my grubby hand and yanked the timepiece out of my pocket (yes, it was still wet with spit).

“Didn’t we jump into this timepiece?” I wondered out loud as Zayd nodded. “So why’s it in my pocket?” I continued.

“Dunno,” Zayd shrugged. Then his eyes gleamed. “Wait! Pearl was moving the clock’s hands anticlockwise, right?” 

“Yeah. So?”

“So she was moving them backwards.” 

“Yeah… so?”

“So maybe she’s moved time backwards, too.” 

For a moment I stared at my brother. 

Then I burst out laughing. 

“Ha!” I guffawed. “That’s just stupid!”

Zayd scowled and swiped the timepiece from me, then began turning its hands. 

“If I turn these hands forwards, we can go further in time,” he muttered quietly. “We’ll get back home if I turn them correctly.” 

After several minutes, he stopped and took a run-up. 

“What’re you doing?” I questioned. 

Zayd didn’t answer. 

He bounded forwards. 

And jumped onto the timepiece. 

No, that wasn’t a mistake. I said ‘onto’, not ‘into’, because he’d jumped onto the timepiece. He wasn’t going inside. 

“WHAT?!” he wailed.

Then the clockwork glowed. 

My brother hesitantly poked one finger into the blazing light. 

It descended inside. 

“Oh,” Zayd said. “You can only go inside when it glows.” 

He took a deep breath and dived into the timepiece, as if he was going for a swim. Pearl shuffled inside, too. So obviously I had to follow. 

Then the door swung open. 

“Oi!” boomed the man. “What’re you doin’?” 

Before he could say any more, I plunged headfirst into the timepiece and back home.

* 

Surprise, surprise. We weren’t home. 

We were in a chariot!

Zayd rubbed his eyes as if he couldn’t believe where we were. 

“Argh!” he fumed. “I must’ve turned the clock’s hands backwards instead of forwards. That’s why we’re not in that Victorian place anymore… we’re in Rome!” 

I turned my head and found myself in a massive stadium. We were seated in a chariot, which an agile horse was pulling, and the onlookers were screaming like mad. 

“Grr,” Pearl hissed, hating the raucous crowd.

“Turn the timepiece! We’ve gotta get outta here,” I yelped as someone in another chariot violently swerved past.

Zayd fumbled round for the machinery, but his attempts failed. He shrugged nonchalantly, but his eyes showed signs of panic. 

“Mew!” Pearl yowled. She signalled with her tail.

The timepiece was inside another chariot. 

“How’s that possible?!” I howled. 

“Dunno. But we’ve gotta get it!” Zayd declared. 

He jerked the reins of the horse pulling our chariot, and off we went. 

Our horse was incredibly fast. He rushed past other racers and soon caught up to the one with the timepiece. 

“Excuse me, sir,” I began politely, “may we have that timepiece?” 

The person retorted by yelling some gibberish. 

“Huh?” I said. 

“This is Rome, isn’t it?” Zayd thought. “But it’s not modern Rome. This is Rome as in Rome with the Romans! And it looks like they’re having a chariot race. It’s entertainment for them, isn’t it?” 

“Mhm,” I agreed. “So let’s entertain them.” 

I pulled sharply on the reins. The horse cantered forwards. We were neck and neck. Cautiously I stretched out to seize the timepiece.

“ABA GHAL! HAM! HA!" cried the opposer (or at least that’s what it sounded like). 

“Just give me the timepiece!” I sighed. 

“YUR JUM!” squealed the opposer. Everything he said practically ended in exclamation. “ABA GHAL! HAM! HA!” 

“Why don’t you try speaking Latin to him?” Zayd tried. 

“I can’t speak Latin, but OK,” I responded. “Erm… aba ghal! Ham! Ha!”

The rival looked furious. He started glowering. 

“Whoops! Wrong move,” I said. 

The opponent drew back a fist to hit me. 

“Wrong move! Really wrong move! Help!” I squealed.

Zayd twisted the chariot to avoid his blow. 

“ABA GHAL! HAM! HA!” the foe snarled as we veered away. 

“Ugh!” I grumbled. “This is impossible.” 

“Impossible just means you haven’t found the solution yet,” Zayd informed me. 

“Meow,” Pearl agreed. 

“Alright, brainbox,” I growled, “if you’re so smart, how do we get the timepiece?”

“Listen up…” he said. 

It wasn’t long before I understood his (admittedly good) plan and was right beside the Roman again. 

“Aba ghal, ham, ha!” I said. 

The Roman glowered. 

“Aba ghal! Ham! Ha!” I repeated. 

He scowled again. 

“ABA GHAL! HAM! HA!” I screamed. 

The Roman couldn’t stand it any longer and lunged. He actually hopped out of his chariot to cuff me. 

But that was part of the plan. As he furiously writhed in our chariot, Pearl bounded into his one and snatched up the timepiece. She turned its hands back slightly, waited for it to glow, then padded in. 

Following her, Zayd practically flew out of our chariot and into the machinery. 

And finally, before the Roman could deal the death blow, I sprang inside too, ready to go home.

* 

“NO!” 

I was wondering why Zayd was bawling like that until I noticed we still weren’t home. 

Instead, we were perched on a sandy floor with tons of razor-edged cacti.

“It’s fine. Let’s just turn those hands forwards and get home,” I reassured Zayd. 

Pearl fetched the timepiece to pass it to my brother, but a booming call interrupted her. 

A man ambled towards us and gestured towards Pearl. He had a wraparound white linen skirt and splendid pleated robes. 

“Hello,” I said. 

He looked bewildered. 

“Maybe he doesn’t speak English, like the Romans,” Zayd tried. 

“Perhaps,” I shrugged. “Now, let’s get back home.” 

“Um…” Zayd began, “we’d better get Pearl back first.” 

The man was carrying the feline in both hands, strolling away and humming contentedly to himself. 

“Oh,” I said. “Yes. We’d better.”

Somewhat later, we were pursuing the thief from behind. It wasn’t as simple as you think. The blistering sun blazed down on our bodies and pratically burnt them to cinders. 

Later on, the man arrived at a house. It seemed as if it was made out of dried mud. It was also blanketed with many mats, probably to keep out pesky insects. He sauntered into it with Pearl between his hands. 

“Let’s go inside,” I whispered to my brother. 

“OK,” he nodded. 

Cautiously we slipped inside the walls of dried mud and hunted round. We rummaged about the whole place; engraved wooden wardrobes, underneath tables, secluded cabinets, you name it. But my furry friend was nowhere to be seen. 

“She’s not here!” I cried.

“She’s gotta be somewhere,” Zayd soothed me. 

Then we heard a voice. 

It must’ve been the man! “Told you,” Zayd boasted. “Let’s go.” 

We trailed after the voice and found Pearl relaxing on a weaved mat. She was clothed in glamorous gems and was munching on tasty treats. 

“Pearl!” I cheered. Then I frowned. “Don’t steal the man’s food and don’t wear his jewels. You’ve been very bad,” I scolded gently. 

Pearl didn’t seem to care. 

That was when the man appeared out of nowhere. He waved at us in a contented manner, then crouched down and strung a sparkling necklace round the cat’s neck with one hand. With the other, he fetched a bowl of small snacks and tipped them onto Pearl’s carpet.

“Huh?” Zayd said. “The man gave her all that?” 

“It seems like it!” I said. 

“Meow,” Pearl purred, chomping on her goodies. 

“It’s like the man worships her,” Zayd joked. 

“Oh, no…” I grumbled. “Ancient Egyptians worshipped cats, didn’t they? We must be in Ancient Egypt!” 

We slapped our foreheads in annoyance. (Not each others’ foreheads, our own.) This was probably the stupidest place yet. 

“‘Cmon, Pearl,” I encouraged the cat. “Let’s go.” 

“Mew,” hissed Pearl. 

“Please,” I begged. 

“Mew, meow,” hissed Pearl again. 

“I don’t think she wants to go,” 

Zayd remarked. 

“For goodness’ sake, let’s go, Pearl,” I moaned. 

She didn’t move a muscle. 

“Argh! How can we get her to go?” I whined. 

“Well, we’ve gotta show her the Ancient Egyptians aren’t all they’re cracked up to be,” Zayd tried. 

“Hmm,” I pondered. “You’ve got a point. And I’ve got an idea. Though you’ll need some Egyptian clothes…” 

Later, I ushered another cat into the room. (I’d ‘borrowed’ her from next door.) This cat was a Jungle Cat instead of a Chartreux like Pearl. 

“Meow,” mewed Jungle as I set her down. 

Jungle spotted the heap of morsels piled beside Pearl. She sniffed them and her eyes lit up. Then she edged towards them. 

“Grr,” Pearl snarled. 

“Grr,” Jungle snarled back. 

Pearl curled her tail protectively round the treats. But before she could do anything else, Zayd roamed into the room and grasped her food. He was dressed in linen and robes, and seemed very much like a real Egyptian. 

“Grr!” Pearl shrieked. 

Then Zayd the Egyptian sprinkled the nuggets in front of Jungle, who meowed excitedly and began wolfing down the treats.

“Grr!” Pearl repeated. 

Zayd chuckled quietly and plucked Pearl’s gemstones. While the feline whimpered, he attached them to Jungle’s neck. 

“GRR!” Pearl protested.

“Mew,” Jungle giggled.

Jungle was clearly enjoying the attention of the Egyptian-looking boy, but Pearl was kicking up a fuss. She pawed at his knees for flattery, but he didn’t respond. 

Of course, Pearl thought Zayd was an Egyptian and not Zayd, so she padded over to me and sulked.

“Mew,” she said. 

“I’ll take that as an, I wanna go home,” I said. 

Suddenly Zayd’s robes fell off and crumpled in a heap on the floor.

“No!” I groaned. 

But Pearl didn’t move. She lay by my side.

“Seems she knows you’re better than Egypt,” Zayd commented. 

Then the cat extracted the timepiece from my pocket, turned its hands forwards and paused in the hope it would glow. And when it finally did, she swiftly leaped and plunged inside.

Zayd and I followed. 

We were going home. 

* 

“NO WAY!” 

As you may have guessed, we still weren’t home.

“This is insane!” I wept. “I don’t even know what this place is.”

“Meow,” Pearl sympathised. 

I was speaking the truth. We were in a modern city with the usual cars and towers, but we lived in a town, so this was definitely wrong. 

“Turn the timepiece’s hands forwards again,” Zayd urged. 

“That won’t do you any good,” came a voice. 

We spun round and detected a girl strolling out of the shadows. She had a thick mask covering her face. 

“Turn them backwards,” the girl instructed.

“And why should we trust you?” I scowled. 

The girl stared right into my eyes. 

Despite wearing that mask, she looked familiar. 

Too familiar.

Then she removed the mask. 

She was me. 

“You’re me,” I realised. 

“‘Course I am,” she scoffed. “You turned those hands way too far. You’re in the future.” 

“Hi, future sis!” Zayd squealed. 

“Mew!” Pearl meowed. 

“Hi there, Zayd,” chuckled the girl. “Now go home.” Her eyes suddenly darkened. “Now! Before-” 

The timepiece glowed. 

A crabby man, a glaring Roman and a spitting cat prowled out. 

“Oi, come back!” the Victorian ordered. 

“Aba ghal! Ham! Ha!” the Roman howled. 

“Grr!” Jungle hissed. 

“Oh, no,” I whispered. 

“Oh no indeed,” sighed the girl. 

The three foes lunged. 

“Ow!” I screamed. 

The Victorian clutched me with one hand and whacking my head with the other. Boy, did it hurt. 

“GET IN THE TIMEPIECE!” the girl shrieked. She was turning its hands backwards. 

I lifted my throbbing head to see Zayd dashing away from the Roman and Pearl underneath the cat. 

“GET IN!” the girl bellowed again. 

“I’M TRYING!” I bellowed back, trying to get out of the Victorian’s grip. 

The girl rolled her eyes as if this was the stupidest battle in the world (she was probably right, though) and pulled her fist backwards.

SMACK. 

She punched the Victorian right in the face.

I gaped. 

“Don’t tell anyone,” she hissed. 

Then she advanced on the Roman and gave him a good slap, too. 

Finally she strode up to Jungle. She picked her up… and placed her gently out the door? 

“Why…?!” I gaped. 

“I don’t like hurting cats,” the girl admitted.

“Well, thanks,” I told her. “It was… nice to meet you.” 

The girl smiled, then offered us the timepiece, and off we went. 

THE END