Watchmaker, Bastian Andros, carries on the family tradition in Gem City, Illinois in the year 1955. His shop, Transcending Time, located in the historic district of a town steeped in history, is known by locals and tourists alike.
Bastian, a man rich in his faith and chosen by God to fulfill the purpose of using a special oil on timepieces when prompted by the Holy Spirit, now comes to the end of his days.
Bastian’s life has not always been easy and there are secrets hidden in his past that will change lives forever. As they come to light, will hearts finally be healed or become bitter?
Will Bastian’s son, Louis, follow the calling and continue his father’s legacy?
Targeted Age Group:: Adult, Young Adult
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
I've always had a love for vintage timepieces and my husband collects and works on them. That gave me the idea. I also love anything historical with Christian inspiration and the story evolved from there.
How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
Actually, the characters just sort of evolved once I had the setting chosen. I knew what the storyline would be and that I wanted the main character to be an older watchmaker. The rest of the characters just fell into place.
Louis sat, as though frozen in time, staring at his father. Tears welled in his eyes and a lump lodged in his throat as he leaned over to feel for a pulse on the side of his father's neck.
A slow faint heartbeat.
He called the paramedics hoping that it wasn’t too late to save him.
Minutes later… biting down on his trembling lip, he heard the siren and through the window watched the ambulance pull up to the curb, its lights flashing.
Shaking the fog from his brain, he focused his mind on the present. Staring at the uniformed Paramedics, his mind fought to create a thread to escape the dark hole he was falling into.
Descending the stairs, he unlatched the doors to let them into the shop. Two men towing a gurney made their way up the stairway to the upper floor living quarters.
Dusting the cases and organizing the timepieces kept his hands busy until the stomp of their descending boots signaled the completion of their work.
“What hospital do you want us to take him to?”
Light, warmth, and even air departed as the paramedics made their way through the shop, the sullen sound of the gurney wheels breaking the air.
Unable to think for a split second, Louis stood in place.
“Oh, yes…I’m sorry,” said Louis, his face ashen and tear-streaked as he gestured toward the front door. “Gem City General.”
Louis slumped up against the front counter of the shop as his father was wheeled out and lifted down the steps. Would he ever see him alive again?
Scrubbing his watery eyes, an image of Bastian, his father, best friend, and mentor flooded his thoughts as memories took over.
“Louie, my boy, have you seen the antique clock Mrs. Thackery wanted to be oiled and repaired?”
“It’s behind all the other maintenance pieces,” Louis spit through clenched teeth. I’m not a boy, he thought and my name is Louis!
Bastian’s wrinkled hand and arm flew over Louis’ shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he said through squinted eyes. “I forget how much you don’t like that little boy nickname. I still think of you as being 2 years old”…patting his frail mid-section…“Even though I’m at least as old as the hills.”
With a crooked grin and a squeeze, Louis’ shoulders heaved under the burden of the memory. Louis’ life had been one of joy, in spite of the fact that he had no mother. His father had ensured his life had been full of faith, hope, and most of all Love.
Haunting words escaped Bastian’s pale lips moments before he went silent. Though the father and son were close, Louis always felt like there was something his father was hiding. He prayed he still had time to find out what it was.
Stroking his fingertips across the line of print indicating Bastian’s vital information, Lewis’s calloused fingers stroked across Bastian’s parents’ names.
Bastian had never talked to Louis about his grandfather. All he knew, is that he had died before Bastian had come to America. Had he been a terrible man? Was that the reason his father wouldn’t say anything? He might live out the rest of his days without knowing.
After the ambulance had pulled away Louis stood at the front door of the shop staring out into the street. Things would be much different now, but Transcending Time would continue. He would have to find someone to care for his father so he could continue his work.
Bastian’s cat, Boots, meowed and dashed inside before Louis finished closing and locking the front door.
“Oh, Boots. I’m sorry poppa isn’t here to feed you. I guess I better round you up some dinner,” he said, picking up the large black and white fluffy cat.
Upon getting Boots settled, he glanced through the doorway into his father’s bedroom. The light was still burning, and the covers were thrown back on the bed showing an indention where his father had lain.
The small but tidy room was filled with memorabilia. An oval frame stood on the top of the dresser, the only photo of his mother he’d ever seen gazed back. The woman in the photo had unusually vibrant eyes. Her petite oval face, small nose, and long brown wavy hair all contributed to her classic beauty.
A worn rocker perched in the corner of the room close to the window captured his attention. Louis closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose to fight off tears. His mind was consumed by remembered moments curled up with his father in the rocker, many nights when his father had rocked him to sleep while reading a storybook or comforting him while he’d been ill.
His father had always been there when he needed him, when he’d been alone, or when he was hurting. Louis covered his face, hung his head, and disintegrated into tears.
The wall clock chiming six p.m. brought him back to reality.
His tears pooled into puddles until he couldn’t tell how long he’d been crying. Wiping his face, his dry sockets told him there were no more tears left. Boots jumped up into his lap purring and rubbing against his chin.
“Poor, Boots. What will we do now? You miss him too, don’t you?” he said as he stroked the cat. “I pray Poppa will come back.”
He sat at the kitchen table overwhelmed with grief. Over the next few days, he would have to make arrangements for his father’s care and put an announcement in the paper for help for the front counter. He was trying to abide by his father’s wishes to not let anyone know he was ill.
Most of their customers had worked with Louis but all of them would miss the cheery, grey-haired man that worked magic on their watches.
Little did Louis know just how magical his father was!
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