Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Years ago, living in Boston my husband had a tacky Virgin of Guadalupe clock he picked up at a junk shop in Chelsea. When I moved in with him, the clock which never ran as he hadn't bothered with batteries began to move incrementally. I noticed that the time was off by a few minutes, went to adjust it, and found no batteries. That was strange, but a coincidence that the time it was at was close when I decided to check. Perfectly reasonable explanation.
A week later, I'd unpacked the antique clock that had been in my dad's family for years. It didn't run, having been knocked off a mantle several decades earlier. I set it up, and (you guessed it) when I glanced at it , the clock was set to the exact time as the other clock. Freaky, no?
At some point, the clock must have been jostled, and ran for a short while on some residual winding from god knows when. Moving does that sort of thing. We joked about possessed clocks, but really didn't (and still don't) take it too seriously.
In passing, I mentioned to our downstairs neighbor what had happened, and he looked ashen.
"You too?" he whispered. Seems his clocks would never keep time for more than a few days, often displaying similarly odd behaviour. Further conversation with the occupants on the first floor yielded similar stories of odd clock doings.
It should be noted that we lived very close to the airport, and though the building was old and sturdy, it did have a bit of sway that we'd feel in storms, or if a plane flew particularly low over the house on approach. I still chalk it up to movement, with some odd coincidence tossed in, but our neighbours were seriously unnerved by it.
I suppose somewhere in the back of my mind I remember this, and hesitate to purchase old clocks. Some people get creeped-out by dolls, for me it is clocks. I did hang this clock, but I've yet to plug it in. It reads 2:25. I'll be keeping an eye on it for a bit before I work up the nerve to run it.