Like Clockwork

Posted on Fri Mar 31st, 2023 @ 2:48 by Sarah Bright

Chapter: Prologue: Dawn of Avalon
Location: Library, Avalon Institute
Timeline: Tuesday Evening, September 29th, 1992 (several hours after 'The Kids are Alright')
1415 words - 2.8 OF Standard Post Measure

Sarah raised her arms up into the air and stretched them out as far as she could. She felt her spine pop in three places as she took a deep breath while leaning back against the sturdy wooden chair she was sitting in. After a deep sigh and a moment stretching out her neck she looked back down, returning her attention to the electric typewriter in front of her. Rapid keystrokes produced a cacophony of ratcheting slaps as she entered the final details on the checkout card pinned to the carriage. For many, it was tedious work, but for Sarah it had been easy to get into a rhythm, where time seemed to blur as she put almost all of her focus into one simple task.

Finished with the last line, Sarah flicked the lever releasing the checkout card from the roller and inspected it for any errors. The type was just a little crooked, but not enough to warrant tossing it and starting fresh. She was fairly skilled at using typewriters, but each one was a little different, with its own idiosyncrasies. In time, the librarian would gain mastery of this one, and leave each and every scrap of paper that left its roller looking worthy of a national archive.

But that wasn’t going to happen today.

As if to strike home the notion, Sarah’s stomach growled loudly, enough so for the two students seated some distance away to hear it. They turned to look at her, but only for a brief moment before returning their attention to the computer game they were playing.

Like clockwork. Sarah thought after feeling the growl.

“Alright kiddos, I know you heard that. It’s time for dinner. You can return to the Oregon Trail tomorrow.” Sarah said, glancing at her wristwatch. Almost past time for dinner. It was seven thirty in the evening.

“But we already ate…” One of the students said in mild protest.

“I know. I know.” Sarah lied. Twice. She didn’t know. “But I haven’t, and I’ve got to close up. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.” Sarah said, expecting the age-old saying to sail right over the kids’ heads. It did.

“Aahw.” The kids murmured in crestfallen tones. They were Benjamin and Julia, a boy and a girl, and from what little Sarah understood, were best friends, but generally unwelcome in each other’s dorm rooms. They seemed like completely normal pre-teens, and Sarah would’ve never guessed that either were mutants. She wasn’t even sure if they were, as the librarian didn’t ask the students about their abilities, and so far none had seemed inclined to discuss them.

“Come on, Jules, maybe the gym is still open.” Benjamin said as they headed for the door.

“I’ll be here early at six tomorrow morning, you should be able to play the game some more then.” Sarah said with a smile as she slid the checkout card she’d been typing out into its holder, which was neatly affixed inside the back cover of one of the new books she’d just catalogued and prepped. She closed the book it with an audible *thump*. Six in the morning might be a little early for some of the students and faculty at Avalon, but Sarah was always an early riser, and she knew it wouldn’t be a wasted effort on her part. There were bound to be procrastinators who would need access to last minute research materials, and Sarah knew for a fact that there were a couple of students who would benefit from a quiet place to regroup and plan for the coming day.

“Goodnight, Miss Bright.” The students called out in a rhythmic chorus that only best friends could emulate. In a way it warmed Sarah’s heart, hearing her name rhymed out that way, even if it was unintentionally mundane. It was still her first day at Avalon, but overall she had feelings that she had made the right choice in deciding to come after all. Even with all their unique mutant abilities the kids were just normal kids, and her adult colleagues didn’t really seem all that different from the ones she would meet at any other school. Her secret hadn’t immediately unraveled and fallen apart, and even if it had, no one had said anything that would’ve made her any wiser to it. Maybe this big change wouldn’t be so bad after all.

That was, of course, assuming she would be able to develop a new routine.

Routines were important to Sarah. They were how her own special, possibly-mutant powers came into play. If one could read a summary of Sarah’s abilities on paper, perhaps they might be impressed by their broad potential. But if they were to spend a day in her shoes, they might gain some understanding of the notion that in some ways, her abilities were also a curse.

Sarah would not feel hungry until she was malnourished and starving. She wouldn’t feel thirsty until she was acutely dehydrated. She wouldn’t feel tired until she’d run herself to the brink of physical collapse. And she wouldn’t feel the kind of mundane pain that often served as an early warning system to steer people clear from greater calamity. Her mind and body treated these important sensations like how one would regard toxic associates—keeping them at arm’s length as much as possible. And Sarah had no real control over that, as she couldn’t even really remember what those things felt like.

So, in the end, Sarah needed routines, even more than the kinds of people that benefited from them. But they only helped so much… and only helped at all when living situations were conducive to a routine.

It was during those shifts in lifestyle, like this move to Avalon, that Sarah resorted to what she called her Clockwork Commands. She hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours, and hadn’t sat down for a decent meal in three days. Most people would be really feeling that, but for Sarah it was very easy to miss when her life as a whole was pure chaos. She was thinking about her new job, the dangers facing the school, her passport application, her belongings in transit, the state of the library, getting to know the students and faculty, and of course on top of that, how to hide the possibility that she too was a mutant. While juggling all of those things, the simple act of eating had fallen to the bottom of the stack because her body didn’t like to remind her about it.

That was, until she bypassed her ‘antisocial’ mind and central nervous system, and appealed directly to her stomach to issue a localized command for it to growl as loud as it could at precisely at seven-thirty pm. And it did, like clockwork.

Those were the Clockwork Commands that she relied upon in times like this to remind her that she needed to eat, drink, and sleep. A growling stomach at such and such a time, periodic deactivation of the salivary glands during the waking hours, and a jaw-cracking yawn at eight-thirty, so she’d be in bed by nine.

Sarah’s stomach growled again exactly five minutes later, like a snooze feature on an alarm clock. She’d be fooling no one—least of all herself—if she claimed she rarely got lost in thought.

“I know! I know” She said aloud, talking to herself. She turned off the typewriter then stood and grabbed her satchel. The library was still kind of a mess, but at least it looked a bit better since she’d arrived. She only bothered to turn off the computers and lights before leaving, as the mess she had on the table would be the first thing she went back to in the morning.

Where was she going? The cafeteria? Was it even still open? If not, where was the kitchen? Again, Sarah flooded her mind with questions and concerns that she had no immediate answers to as she floundered about, struggling to adapt to this new routine. She rummaged around in her satchel for a map, now with only the dim emergency lighting to go by, and nearly walked straight into a closed door.