Jack descended to confront the mayor, leaving me alone to study the three pocket watches. His footsteps and the mayor's authoritative voice drifted upwards from below, accompanied by the hushed murmurs of others. I knew Jack would do his utmost to buy time, but my challenge was to uncover the crucial clues within such limited hours.
"Past, present, future..." I whispered, contemplating my grandmother's cryptic hints. The three pocket watches needed distribution across three different points in time, but how precisely? Which watch belonged to which era? Who should carry them?
I re-examined all our collected materials—Jack's research notes, excerpts from Arthur's journal, Joseph's letters—hoping to discover details we might have overlooked. While thumbing through Jack's most recent notebook, I noticed something previously escaped my attention—near the end, several pages had been neatly torn out, leaving only tiny paper edges near the binding.
This struck me as peculiar. Jack was invariably meticulous; I had never known him to remove any records, even incorrect calculations or speculations. These missing pages must contain something he was determined I should not see.
I began searching methodically through the lighthouse's middle level. Bookshelves, desk drawers, piles of documents—anywhere Jack might have concealed those pages. From below, Jack's voice grew increasingly resolute, evidently engaged in a heated dispute with the mayor.
"The lighthouse apparatus is functioning perfectly normally, Mr Clark. Your concerns are entirely unwarranted."
"Then explain the abnormal phenomena occurring around the lighthouse?" The mayor's voice was laden with suspicion. "Villagers report witnessing ghostly illuminations, fishermen speak of discoloured waters... all commencing with your cousin's arrival."
I hastened my search, acutely aware that time was growing short. While examining Jack's bed, I noticed a slight bulge beneath the mattress. Carefully lifting it, I discovered a small leather wallet containing the torn notebook pages.
My hands trembled slightly as I opened the wallet and began reading what Jack had so assiduously concealed. The notes were dated several days before my arrival, and the content made me catch my breath:
"18 September - Today I realised a frightening possibility. If the time rift truly reaches its peak on 21 September, if I am indeed sent to the past (as in my visions), then who will guard the lighthouse? Who will ensure the beacon doesn't extinguish, guiding vessels away from treacherous reefs? Whatever transpires, the lighthouse cannot stand unattended."
"19 September - I've considered all possibilities. If Ella (the woman from my dreams) truly manifests, she may need to return to her future world. I cannot ask her to forsake her era for me. This necessitates another arrangement—some means to ensure the lighthouse's safety while allowing both Ella and myself to find our respective places."
The next passage made my heart pound:
"20 September - I've reached an extraordinary decision. If 'Joseph' is truly my future self, sent back to 1826, then I shall accept this fate. But I must prepare an escape route for Ella. I've studied ancient legends and Arthur's journal and discovered a possible solution: the three pocket watches can establish a complete cycle, connecting past, present, and future. If each time point possesses a guardian and a watch, then the cycle can stabilise, permitting safe passage under specific conditions."
"My plan is thus: if being sent to 1826 proves unavoidable, I shall become that era's guardian, managing the lighthouse alongside Arthur. Meanwhile, I must find someone to continue safeguarding the 1925 lighthouse—perhaps Thomas or another trustworthy soul. Finally, 2025 requires someone who comprehends the truth, to continue research and provide guidance when the next cycle commences."
"The most difficult aspect is determining where Ella should go. I have no right to make this decision. Whether she chooses to return to the future or remain in this era, I shall respect her choice. But one thing I must ensure—no matter when or where we exist, the watches will forever constitute our connection, a promise of possibly reuniting."
The final page read:
"If you're reading these words, Ella, it signifies events have begun to unfold as prophesied. Remember: the three pocket watches must be held by three separate guardians, distributed across three time points. This isn't about our separation, but about our joint maintenance of time's integrity, regardless of distance."
"I know not what force has woven our destinies so intricately together, but I believe it's not without purpose. Whatever the final outcome, please know that meeting you has been the greatest gift of my existence, a love transcending time itself."
Tears blurred my vision. Jack had already foreseen the choices we might face and attempted to devise the optimal solution for us both. He hadn't concealed these pages to deceive me, but to avoid influencing my decision, wanting me to choose freely.
I finally comprehended my grandmother's and the time messenger's cryptic hints. The solution wasn't for one person to cross over while the other remained behind, but to establish a network of guardians spanning three eras, each holding a pocket watch, collectively maintaining time's equilibrium.
This understanding raised new questions: If Jack was destined for 1826, who would guard the lighthouse in 1925? Who would wait in 2025 for the next cycle to begin?
Downstairs, the argument intensified.
"Mr Howard, as mayor, I possess the authority to inspect any public facility, including this lighthouse," Clark's voice grew increasingly stern, "particularly when evidence suggests potential danger."
"The lighthouse poses no danger whatsoever," Jack insisted. "On the contrary, its proper operation during the approaching tempest is vital for vessels at sea. Your interference could precipitate a genuine catastrophe."
I heard footsteps ascending the stairs—they were coming up. I hastily returned the notes to the wallet and replaced it, but folded the last page and secreted it in my pocket. Just then, I noticed a small envelope beneath the wallet with "For Ella, if necessary" inscribed upon it.
I hesitated momentarily, then took the envelope and slipped it into another pocket. Whatever lay within, there was no time to examine it now.
Back at the table, I arranged the three pocket watches, outwardly appearing to study them while my mind raced through Jack's plan and possible solutions. If I could comprehend his thinking, perhaps we might discover a way to fulfil our guardian duties without eternal separation.
The footsteps grew nearer, and I heard Jack's cautionary tone: "Mr Clark, the apparatus on the upper level is exceedingly delicate. Any disturbance during the storm could cause the beacon to fail."
"That is precisely my concern," the mayor replied. "If the lighthouse is truly so precarious, it ought to be managed by professionals."
As they reached the middle level entrance, the wall clock showed 4:15 PM. One hour and thirty-two minutes remained until the critical moment at 5:47. Time was ebbing away, the storm growing increasingly violent, the lighthouse swaying perceptibly in the gale.
I drew a deep breath, collected my thoughts, and prepared to confront the mayor and his entourage. Whatever transpired next, I had to ensure that at the crucial moment, the three pocket watches and two guardians would reach the lighthouse's summit. Only then could we complete time's cycle and fulfil our true destiny.
The door opened, and Mayor Clark entered with several assistants, Jack following closely behind. His eyes briefly met mine, conveying a silent question. I nodded almost imperceptibly, indicating I had uncovered important clues. His expression relaxed slightly before turning back to the mayor, continuing his delaying tactics.
"So, Mr Clark, what would you like to examine? As you can see, there's nothing but ordinary lighthouse ledgers and equipment here..."