Zimmerli Art Museum Story

Most people in the town could agree that Charles, the clockmaker, was quite strange. He would spend almost all his day locked up in his workshop, presumably making more clocks. He would occasionally be seen in the shops, and when approached, he would exchange a few words, awkward from his apparent lack of socializing, before making a hasty excuse and leaving. 

Even his apprentice, Gusto, who ran Charles’ clock shop, hardly knew anything about the clockmaker. Gusto had always loved Charles’ clocks and desired to learn from the master. He spent weeks trying to reach Charles, only getting shut down every time. Eventually, Gusto annoyed Charles to the point where Charles yielded to his incessant requests. He told Gusto that if he could run his shop, one day, Charles would teach Gusto the art of making clocks. Gusto didn’t know when that day would be, but hope colored his vigor, and he did everything he could to manage the shop successfully.
Regardless of his peculiarities, everyone in the town agreed that no one could match the exquisite craftsmanship of Charles’ clocks. His creations, from pocket watches to grandfather clocks, entranced everyone who looked at them. Gusto often held gatherings to talk and marvel at the clocks, creating a sense of wonder and appreciation in the community. However, Charles, lost in his own world, never attended them. Most of the time, he didn’t even know when they happened. 

Since he made his first clock, Charles could hear his clocks whispering to him. He believed that these whispers held some grand secret. However, as hard as he listened, he couldn’t distinguish what the whispers were saying. That was until Charles opened his clock store. At the back of the building was a door with a singular clock in a hallway. This clock whispered to him, too, but he could swear that the whispers seemed slightly more intelligible. Upon attaching some of his clocks to the door, some seemed to make the whispers clear while others did not. It was a puzzle. Thus began his long quest to decipher the secrets that the clocks were trying to whisper to him. The days blurred into each other, and nights went sleepless. Charles only cared about solving the puzzle, so he made more clocks.

Now, sunlight streamed through his window. He had spent another sleepless night making his latest clock. He took the clock to the door. There was one spot on the door left. He took a deep breath and mounted it on the door. Suddenly, the whispers stopped, and the door creaked open a bit. The shock of the silence made Charles almost dizzy. He had grown accustomed to the constant whispering for so many years, and now the silence seemed louder. Despite the unnerving silence, the anticipation of what lay beyond the door filled him.

He pushed open the door, and an empty room with a tall floor-length mirror in the center of it greeted him. He saw his reflection and couldn’t recognize the man on the other side. He realized that he was…old. His pale face with heavy eye bags had started to show wrinkles. Had it been so long? The last time he looked in the mirror, he saw a young man who had just opened his new clock shop. All he saw now was a desperate, older man in disheveled clothes, searching for the unknown. Still in shock, he stood there for a while, contemplating his life. 

Eventually, he trudged back to his workshop, sitting at his desk covered in various tools and clock parts. A stack of papers on the floor caught his eye. It was the stack of ignored event flyers that Gusto had sent for every occasion. He picked up the top-most flyer and read today’s date. He had missed out on so much. Instead of expanding his shop, celebrating his successes, and spending more time with the people of this town to build a community, he had just locked himself up in his room, all for what? He thought there was some big mystery to solve.
He understood then that his time was finite while clocks had infinite time, constantly spinning about their twelve numbers. And he had wasted so much of it obsessing over something he realized was meaningless. 

Determined to make the most of his time, he cleaned himself up and picked out the nicest thing he had to wear: a slightly wrinkled shirt. He paused atop the stairs that led down to the main shop area decorated for the gathering that would soon take place. Charles looked at his apprentice fixing one of the clock displays while humming to himself and felt a prickle of tears behind his eyes. The young boy that had approached him all those years ago was now a fine young man with shining eyes and a laughter-filled face. He had made the shop more successful than Charles could have imagined, and he hadn’t even thanked Gusto once.

He would fix that right now. It was time to move forward. He walked down the stairs to a very shocked Gusto. After all, he had promised him lessons in the craft of clock-making.