Keeping Time

Raymond's breathing was steady as he slept on the armchair by the door. I studied from my place on the ratty couch. From spending a week with him already, I knew that he didn't sleep very often, so when he did, he was a deep sleeper. But sleeping in the armchair couldn't be as comfortable as he claimed it to be.

In the time I spent with him, I didn't learn much about him from asking questions. I asked a few questions about him, got minimal information and then learned the rest that I knew from watching him. He had grown up in the Ghetto and knew how to act. The minute he was out of his Timekeeper clothing, he looked nothing like authority. He looked like someone from the Ghetto.

He knew people that we could trust and he knew who not to talk to while we were out. He was only 35, and had been a Timekeeper for 8 years so far. Both of his parents were dead and there was no sign of siblings. He didn't talk very much, and took his job very seriously.

I jumped out of my thoughts when Raymond suddenly groaned in his sleep and twisted his body in the chair. To my surprise, he didn't wake up.

I stood up, checked that he was still dead asleep, went out the window, onto the fire escape and climbed to the roof.

The Ghetto was a dirty place, and I missed Greenwich, but my home had been torn from my grasp. My life had been flipped over, and destroyed. It seemed that the more time we spent in the Ghetto, the more the death of my father felt like a dream. We hadn't gotten any news from the other Timekeepers about my father's murderer, but video recordings from my estate showed that the two men who had come to kill my father knew where the cameras were.

I swung my legs over the edge of the building and gazed into the city below. People were getting their much-needed sleep, as I should be doing now, but I was wired.



After an hour of thinking to myself and enjoying the quiet, I went back down to the apartment. When I slid inside, I stopped dead in my tracks.

“Where were you?” I turned to look at Raymond, but his eyes were shut. He looked pained, and I realized he was talking in his sleep.

“Who?” I whispered. I had heard that if you talk to someone while they're talking in their sleep, they'll answer you honestly.

“Please..just don't...” he mumbled more, and turned his face into the chair as if turning away from whoever was in his head. I guess that rumor about people responding to your questions was a myth.

I went back to the couch and laid on my back, so I could watch Raymond some more. Who did he dream about? What did he dream about? Was it because of his dreams that he didn't sleep as often as he should?

I had so many questions that couldn't be answered, it was ridiculous.



The next morning, I was staring sleepily at the clock as it struck 8am. Raymond had been awake an hour, clanging around in the kitchen and then running the shower for himself, keeping me from the sleep I had previously been enjoying.

“Get yourself ready. We're going out,” he said and I looked at him. His hair was messy from sleeping, there were dark circles under his eyes and he was wearing jeans and a towel was draped over his shoulders. I smiled sarcastically.

“If we're going out, you'll have to wait for me,” I stated and he swallowed. I knew he wanted to say something, to push my buttons like he had done before, but something stopped him.

“Try to hurry up,” he mumbled.

What's troubling him?

I got up slowly, stretched and caught a look of Raymond. His back was turned to me and the flesh was pale with freckles sprinkled across the flesh. The muscle rippled when he slipped his shirt on over his head and then the show was over. I walked to the bathroom and started the water.

My cheeks were flushed with blood and I stripped down to nothing.

Sure, he's good looking, but he's a complete jerk, I reassured myself. And I'm a complete bitch, but I'm hot, I answered myself and snickered at my vain thought process.

I showered, scrubbing every bit of me until my skin felt clean and then turned off the water. I reached for my towel and-

I forgot it on a hook in the living room that plants usually hang from. You have got to be kidding me.

“Raymond?” I called, but he didn't respond. I opened the door a little and I could hear him in the kitchen. “Raymond?” I heard him coming, so I angled myself so he couldn't see me.

I blushed when he rose an eyebrow.

“Can you get my towel?”

“Where is it?”

“In the living room, on that hook by the window,” I answered and he got it for me without a word. There was definitely something bothering him. Usually we were at each others throats.

I dried off, brushed my hair out, and got dressed. Once I was ready to go and we made sure we had enough time on our arms, we left the apartment.

We walked around aimlessly. At least, that's what it seemed to me, but Ray was on a mission.

A group of men came sauntering down the street and we turned quickly into an alley. I jogged with Raymond to the end, and the street on the other side was filled with people. I had never been around this many people from the Ghetto.

I turned and looked behind us, and I saw the men following us. Before I could tell Raymond, he had dragged me into a doorway and we were behind the door just as they came around the corner.

Where we were, it was tight squeeze. I was practically pinned to the wall with Raymond looming over, keeping an eye on the men. I watched them too, my breathing coming out quick and panicky.

“What do you think they want?” I asked and his blue eyes pierced mine. When I met his eyes, my stomach twisted. He did answer for a moment, until my breathing had quieted.

“They're probably part of a gang here, looking to rob some people of their time. Not like we have much,” he said and gazed down at my forearm. There was only 13 hours, and 17 minutes on it. We lived day-by-day here.

“Why are we out here?” I asked him and he met my eyes again.

“I have to meet with someone that might be able to help us,” he answered, not giving me much information. I exhaled through my nose, frustrated with his vague answers.

“You're not very much fun today. What's with this illusive person you've brought to the party?” I asked and he shifted away from me.

“This isn't a party or a game, Loveena. We're trying to figure out who killed your father,” he snapped and I shoved him away from me. Not expecting the reaction, he stared at me.

“You're supposed to be protecting me, and yet you bring me out here! I'm going back to the apartment,” I told him, keeping my voice under control. He reached out to grasp my arm as I took a few steps forward.

“Loveena, don't-” I struck him across the face and he froze all advancements. We had never rose a hand to each other, and here I had just slapped him as if he were my bitch.

I walked past him and stuck my hands in my pockets, the safety of the knife in there was reassuring. I walked back to the apartment by myself, but about a block from it, I was cornered by the same men that had been following Ray and I.

“Look what we have here,” one of them cooed, and pulled at my hair. I pulled away, disgusted. I drew the knife and they pulled back with smirks.

“She's feisty too. Hey babe, why don't you come with us and we'll show you what real men can do for you,” another said, and pulled out a gun. I took a step away and the third man in the group bumped me from behind, pulling the knife from my grasp.

My heart hammered in my chest as they taunted more and drew closer still. Their hands pulled at my hair, my clothing, and slid across my flesh. I ran out of their reached, back the way I had come and ran into another. I screamed and pulled back, only to look up into icy eyes.

“I hope you weren't thinking of doing anything to hurt her,” Raymond said, and this was the first time I'd noticed the gun in his hand.

The men looked around sheepishly.

“Us? No man, we were just having a bit of fun.” The men sneered, agreeing. I wrapped my arms around Raymond's chest and buried my face in the crook of his neck. I heard their footfalls as they walked away.

“Are you okay?” He asked, shoving the gun into the back of his belt and pulling his jacket over to cover it.

I didn't answer for a moment as I began to tremble. I didn't belong here. My attitude was perfect in Greenwich, where people respected me. Here, people just wanted to survive. Murder or not.

“I'm fine,” I whispered and he peeled me off. My stomach rolled again as he stared into my eyes.

“We can still go back if you want,” he suggested. He meant back to the apartment, and I shook my head 'no'. I couldn't be in that small space right now, I'd destroy whatever remaining mentality that I had left.

We started walking again, and people kept back. People respected Raymond here, even though they didn't recognize him. They had the right to fear him.

We came to a run-down house, and a bearded man met us inside with sweating glasses of water.

“Ray, it's nice to see you again,” he said and I noted several other men seated around the large living room.

“Howard, it's good to see you too,” Raymond greeted, clasping the man's hand.

Howard looked at me and his eyes slipped over my body to the point that I felt exposed. Raymond put an arm over my shoulders and I leaned into him, feeling safer.

“This is Loveena. We're engaged,” Raymond told Howard and I smiled like a good actress.

“It's nice to meet you,” I greeted and Howard kissed the top of my hand.

“Likewise.”

They talked in code, and we were there for over an hour. Raymond finally got a name and we left quickly. We walked in silence back to the apartment. Once we were safely back inside, I sagged and had to sit down.

Raymond locked himself in the one bedroom we had and called the other Timekeepers. He talked to them for a while, and by the time he came back out, I was nearly asleep.

“They're going to catch a couple of people, then we have to go in. Most likely, the men who did it knew you or your father, and you've seen them before,” he told me and I nodded sleepily, not caring for anything he said at the moment.



I woke up in the middle of the night with Raymond sitting on the floor next to me. He was cleaning his gun and it didn't look so deadly all pulled apart.

I watched him for a while, then dozed off again.

I never did find out what he had dreamt about that night.