Tic Tock

A Creepy, Cozy Christmas Story

Dora Scott is unexceptional in every way but two. She’s never late. She’s never early. Dora has a precision about arriving at appointed times that put Swiss trains to shame. Out of habit, her neighbors, Mr. March, Miss Clifford, and Troy Sanderling set their watches when she exits her front door and again in the evening when she returns from her job at the accounting firm.

This persistent punctuality sometimes annoys the three, who are less tied to the clock, but Dora’s a quiet woman. She keeps a tidy yard and never makes any noise, unlike others on their cul de sac. Dora may be quirky, they agree, but she’s a decent neighbor--and useful. They’re never uncertain about the time.

It’s early evening, and here she comes—her steps measured and precise as she walks from the bus stop. 5:41 p.m.

Mr. March resets his old stove clock.

Miss Clifford takes out her frozen dinner and turns on the oven.

Troy Sanderling doesn’t bother checking the time. When Dora arrives home it’s when he needs to leave for his session at the gym.

At her porch, Dora pauses briefly to adjust the wreath before noticing a small package propped against the wall and not much bigger than her hand. She picks it up and reads the label.

Strange. There’s no return address and only her name is written across the brown paper. Christmas is a few days away, so perhaps someone has gifted her. She glances around as if she might find one of her neighbors peeking from a window--a secret Santa.

Inside her kitchen, she reads the back of the package.

OPEN IMMEDIATELY!

Oh, no. She hopes it isn’t something alive. That would be terrible. She’d have to care for it and there’s no time for that.

Carefully, she unties the string, removes the wapping, and sits on the kitchen stool, shocked. This is the most beautiful gift box she’s ever seen. It sparkles as if it’s filled with stars. She reads the tag attached to the ribbon and gasps.

Tic Tock. Tick Tock. Tic Tock.

What does this mean? There is no signature, so whoever wrote this and took such care to wrap the gift remains a mystery. Dora holds the box close to her ear. She doesn’t hear anything, and when she gently shakes it, nothing shifts inside. Taking care to peel away the glittery paper and ribbon, she opens the box and stares at the contents.

A clock that fits in her palm--a diminutive one encased in ornate gold filigree that weaves around a most exquisite jade face and forms an intricate pedestal. When she holds a magnifying glass to it, those twisted gold shapes are numbers. It concerns her that its form is odd. She’s sure it’s meant to sit squarely on a surface, but the angles are slightly off, so when she places it on the table, it leans.

In its presence, she is both delighted and apprehensive. Despite its beauty, something is troubling about this clock. She’s tempted to rewrap it and try to return it, but she doesn’t know to whom.

It must be someone who knows about her clock collection and her love for rare timepieces. So, instead of trying to ferret out the gift-giver, she makes space among her treasures. As she steps back to admire it, the new addition begins to tick.

Tic Tock. Tick Tock. Tic...Tock.

The irregularity of that final Tic Tock annoys her and seems to be louder than the regular ticking. Perhaps the clock needs adjusting or cleaning. She’ll stop it until she can attend to that.

But the clock won’t stop, and the off-beat Tic Tock becomes louder and louder. No matter what she tries--re-boxing it, plugging her ears, moving it to the farthest corner of the house…Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tic…Tock.

That week, Dora sleeps off and on, unable to mask the annoying clock sound. In the mornings, she’s so tired that she gets up much later than usual. Even though she rushes, she misses the bus.

That week, Mr. March doesn’t arrive at his dentist appointment when he should and must pay even though he didn’t have the scheduled cleaning.

That week, Dora’s late to work… every day.

And Miss Clifford fails to meet her fiancé as scheduled for three important dates. She can’t believe he hooks up with someone else while waiting for her and cancels their engagement.

That week, Dora misses three appointments with an important client. He fires the firm.

And Troy Sanderling is late to several training sessions at the gym, so his annoyed trainer refuses to reschedule until next month--if then.

That week, the clock continues with a damnably delayed and very loud Tic Tock.

One night, Dora arrives home after dark, having missed her bus yet again. She enters her house to the terrible ticking sound.

Desperate, she carries the clock to the garage. Her last resort. The hammer. She doesn’t stop until the filigree is scattered bits, the jade face obliterated. Standing back, breathless, Dora listens.

Blissful silence.

Back in her house she removes all of her clocks from the shelves and stores them in a large trunk.

The next day she quits her job and says goodbye to her neighbors. They’re sad to see her go.

As Mr. March says, “I found a much better dentist thanks to you”.

Miss Clifford goes so far as to hug Dora. “You saved me from a disastrous marriage. I discovered my friends didn’t like him but held their tongues until we broke up.”

Troy Sanderling loves his new workout regime. “I do it at home now, and I’m saving a lot of money.”

In the next months, Mr. March, Miss Clifford, and Troy Sanderling enjoy Dora’s postcards from around the world—all at odd times of the year and never with any regularity. Christmas cards, birthday cards are either early or late, but each is full of Dora’s adventures. In her last message, she writes, “I adopted the most beautiful puppy.”

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