The Sweep of the Second Hand

I feel a type of paralysis. I do not feel numb, nor do I feel a change such as a wind, or a change in the air. It is as if my body responds more and more slowly to my mind. I force my eyes from the lamp and to my left wrist. In the feeble yellowish light of the lamp, I can see my watch.

My mom has always said that I was impractical, and she would use my watch as proof. It is an old-style watch that has to be wound every seventy-two hours, instead of one of the modern ones that uses a cell. But I like it because I was able to take it apart and fix it, and bring it back to use. It has a gold tone to its numbers, band, and hands, although it isn't real gold, of course. The dial is black. So even in this weak light, I can see the time. The seconds hand is stopped, I think. I force myself forward. I can only go forward just a little. The seconds hand has moved. So the watch still works.

At this point, I try to bring my right hand to the knob on the watch's side that winds it. It is moving easily across my body! And the watch is going again! I take a step forward. I can go forward now, and turn off the lamp. I work my way back to the couch, and fall fast asleep.

It is now morning. I am as ready to go out into the town as I can be. I tell James about last night.

"That is stange," he said.

"Its like Zeno's paradox come to life," I reply. "Could it be something in with that lamp?"

"No. I got the lamp at a book sale. It was part of the library stock."

"So they were getting rid of the furniture? It is a very nice lamp. It looks expensive."

"It was very expensive when it was new, but the library replaces them every so often, as they age. It is in the in-between stage now. It is too old to have be considered current, but not old enough to be a collector's dream. Still, this one is perfectly fine for my home, and I think that it adds a nice touch."

"Is it damaged?"

"Not that I can see. It just doesn't have the detail that one wants in the most up-to-date catalogues."

I look at James, and cannot quite understand what he just said.

"How is this lamp a catalogue?"

"Holly, when you look at it, do you see leaves?"

"Yes. Many types of leaves, as a matter of fact. I see the leaves of a gum tree."

"The Eucalyptus?"

"That's Australian, isn't it? I don't think we are talking about the same tree. The ones at home had star-shaped leaves, and would drop these spiky brown balls about the size of a golf ball, as seed cases."

"Ah, yes. The Liquidambar styraciflua."

"The what?"

"That's the botonist's name for it." He smiles at me. "They use Latin because everyone likes to come up with the same common names for different things. They had the same problem with the robin, from what I understand. Identifying something is always a problem."

"But how can that lamp be a catalogue? There are no words. There is no index."

1. "I'll explain as we get along to work."
2. "We can deal with that later. Let's talk about your problem last night."

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