Moon Dust: The Time Keeper

The moon is strung up by a rope and sways like a balloon. It would lift into the abyss if the thread severs. Old as time, the moon is crusted with age and fragility. The crescent compartments are joined with sticky moon dust but even that cannot withstand the power of time. From the adjacent World Clock Lookout, Laurent watches the crescent light glitter across the sky. His webbed hands are balled into fists, from which his head rests atop. Fuzzy antennas from his forehead buzz with heat as time creeps up. He returns his gaze back to his work and tugs down on a string. It pulls the minute hand of the World Clock. The time now reads 0330 hrs. His antennas self-soothe with a cool embrace, now time has been corrected. 

Sitting upon a rain cloud, Laurent beams at the elegance of the clock, nearly the same size as the moon but only half as heavy. Unlike any humanly clock, this is the time meter for Earth and is constructed of grandfather asteroids and space dust. The passing time will someday desiccate the moon into its original form. He almost feels guilty for aging the world but it must be so.

Like puppetry, the fairies assume their positions and work through the performance play. Alternating the rise and fall of the moon and sun. Except for Laurent, he hardly ever leaves. Why would he want to, anyway?

The view from the Clock Lookout is superior. Time is one of the most common human conversations, so he has learnt. Humans discuss it endlessly and 

their bright faces check the hour, whilst chatting about it. Their pointing fingers and gasped expressions, when they, ‘couldn’t believe what the time was!’ 

Time telling was always a vision of his, ever since he was an infant fairy. He could recall beaming at the clock and watching the tellers change the hour with exact precision. For him, it is the role of utmost importance. Without the hour, humans would not function. Although his existence seems obsolete. He is hung up in the sky and invisible to a human eye. But his work remains true. 

Laurent’s antennas whir with heat, sensing the hourly time update. He emerges from the Lookout via a door carved into the clock’s face. His transparent wings lift him towards the hour hand. He uses his weight to move the hand and it strikes 0400 hrs.

Florine, the Moon Keeper, emerges from her lookout, in traces of blue lace. She swings her legs over the balcony and waives to Laurent. 

“Not much longer to go now,” she announces.

“You’re welcome to enjoy your wake time. I’ll watch the moon for you,” Laurent offers. 

“Do you mind?” Florine asks, timidly. 

“Of course not. Go ahead, Florine.”

She disappears between the silken clouds, dodging droplets of rain and wind. Meanwhile, Laurent flies halfway between the moon and clock, keeping watch of both, as if innocent children. A storm rumbles and his antennas are the first to notice the cold surrender. The force sends him backwards and he somersault’s through the air. He flaps his wings with greater force. The moon tugs against the rope around its waist. Laurent nearly swallows his tongue at the sight. Positing his arms like breaststroke, he swims through the sky and assumes position as the Moon Keeper. He strangles the rope, tussled in a game of tug-of-war against the wind. He puffs his cheeks and pulls hard, as moonlight glitters with each movement. 

“Florine!” He yells. 

Temporary hope fills the scene when the wind calms. Only to return with a ghast. The rope ties loosen from the anchor but the grasp tightens around the waist of the moon. A bolt flies out of place and it splits the moon into a half crescent. Laurent digs his heels into the cloud and wraps the rope around his wrists, battling the moon. 

“Florine!”

She races across the sky, with neon blue wings. Florine straddles the rope and reinstates the knot around the anchor. It is secured and despite the tension in the rope, the moon holds in place.

“It’s okay, Laurent, you can let go now.”

He pries his hands open, marked with red lines where the rope dug through his palms.

“We need to find the missing bolt. The moon will indefinitely split in half.”

“At least it remains,” he sighs, exhausted. 

“Laurent, do you have any spare parts? If the wind blows again, it could take the moon with it.”

“Let me think,” Laurent scratches his head. 

“What’s all the commotion about?” Elodie groggily flies between the clouds. Her butter dress drapes below her feet and a matching veil covers her ginger hair. She is the Sun Keeper and awake, well beyond the hour. 

“Elodie, will you help us? The moon is falling apart and we must find a spare piece before it breaks,” Laurent says.

“Well, the sun doesn't use moon dust screws,” she shrugs. Elodie squints through the fatigue and stares at the clock. Now She raises an eyebrow. “The sun will dawn in one hour, we don’t have much time left.”

“Elodie’s right, we have to move quickly,” Laurent exclaims.

Inside the Clock Lookout, the walls are constructed of volcanic ash and crushed stars. Their eternal glow shines over a heap of mechanical parts - bolts, screws, glacial gemstones. Even essence from the Milky Way is stored, consumed for fairy immortality. They venture inside and begin upturning the boxes of mechanical parts, spilling over the contents with clangs and rattles. Laurent is knee deep in a pile of steel and metal, tossing the useless pieces over his shoulder.

Florine holds up a blunt edged corkscrew. “Really, Laurent? This is broken.”

“You never know when you’ll need it,” he replies.

“Half of this is junk. It’s going to take forever to find a moon dust screw!”

“Then maybe you should keep your own spares,” Elodie groans. 

“My Lookout room is cluttered with your overflow,” Florine remarks.

As the argument unfolds between the keepers, Laurent scuffles his way through the mechanical parts. His antennas over heat and he is reminded that the clock is due to move five minutes ahead. He flies out of the lookout and is merely enticed by the freedom of leaving the argument. Facing the clock, he grabs hold of the rope and draws down on the minutes hand. Only it doesn’t move. He tugs down again but the minutes remain the same. Laurent wraps the rope around his hands and draws back, leaning until his spine all but splits in half. He tumbles into a cloud and lands with a thud. 

The clock is jammed. Time stands still. His eyes nearly bulge from his head and Laurent races back inside. 

“Fairies, listen up! The clock is stuck, so I’ll leave the moon to you. I’ve got to take a look at the mechanics.”

Silence falls, as Elodie and Florine begin rummaging through the spare parts. Time is working against them. 

Laurent lays his hands on his hips and stares at the rear view of the clock. Faced with huge metal wheels and chiselled chains, smoke begins to emit from somewhere inside. He tries to manually pull on the chain but it hardly emits a squeak. Laurent bends down, hands on his knees and through the transparent clock face, sees an abstract piece. He squints, narrowing his vision and sees what it is. A moon dust screw. It is jammed inside the mechanics of the clock.

“I found it!” he yells.

Florine rushes over, hands outstretched until she sees where it is stuck. “Can you reach?”

“I’m going to try.” Laurent climbs in between the wheels, with the metal contraption pressed against his belly, he reaches out. A hot eminence beats throughout his antennas as time is falling behind. Sweat drips down his face like a waterfall. He can hardly move his head with the wheel above it and another below. Laurent creeps forward and clasps his hand around the moon dust screw. Finally.

“Laurent?” Florine asks, accepting the piece.

“My head, it’s burning,” he cries. “Time is falling behind.” Anxiety pumps inside his antennas and his hands tremble. The clock is due to strike daylight but Laurent is behind schedule. 

Florine turns as pale as moon dust itself. “I need to fix the moon before sunrise. It will fall apart before the next night if I don’t.”

Elodie lays a hand on her arm. “Leave the clock to me.” She sets out and flies towards the exit door, when she begins to move in slow motion. They both do. The fairies are spellbound and their wings flap mid-air but incredibly slow. So much so, they should fall but don’t. 

Laurent watches helplessly as time moves incorrectly. At a slowed pace. He is the only one that can fix the World Clock. Soon time will stand still and the sun shall not rise. The moon shall never set and Earth will freeze. Laurent hauls himself out of a slump and flies towards the exit door. The keepers stare at him, unable to move but fear casts a haze across their eyes. 

“You’re both going to be okay. I’m going to fix this, I am,” Laurent says.

He flies across the expanse of the sky, which now seems larger than ever before. The Clock is almost at arms’ reach but the thumping inside his mind, makes the journey longer.

As he surpasses the deteriorating moon, moon dust trickles and casts a layer of frosted shimmer atop Laurent. If a human is awake at this very hour, they will see a fairy across the sky.