I woke up to find a small black box sitting on the nightstand. I picked it up and gave it a shake, listening to the satisfying rattle inside before putting it back down. Sofie might want me to go ahead and open it, but I’d save it for my birthday dinner tonight.
Setting it aside, I got up and went to the bathroom, groggily washing my face before studying myself in the mirror. Thirty-five today, and not looking too bad if I said so myself. I needed a haircut, and I was starting to see the odd grey hair here and there, but…what was that?
It was a sound. A small, almost sneaky sound, so low that, at least at first, I couldn’t identify it. It was…
…was something ticking?
The thought made me think of clocks, which made me think of the time. Sofie had left for her job hours earlier, and I had a meeting at ten I couldn’t miss. Turning my head, I made a quick, final effort to figure out where the odd noise was coming from before giving up. Whatever it was, I didn’t have time for it.
On the train into the office, I caught an old woman staring at me. I tried to just ignore it, then I smiled at her, but nothing deterred her—her hard-boiled eyes large above a toothless mouth that milled endlessly as though gnawing on a bit of gristle. We were two stops away from my exit when she stood up and shuffled over to me. I expected her to ask if she knew me or tell me some random old person story out of loneliness, but instead she grabbed my face with surprising strength, squeezing my cheeks in the vise of her calloused thumb and forefinger.
“Yes, yes. Ripe enough, I think.” I was trying to pull away, but she was so close up and her grip was so firm, I found it hard to escape easily. The woman was fumbling for something in her pocket now, and I had the panicked image of a knife flash across my brain as I slid off my seat and stumbled out of her grasp and toward the next train car. Looking back after I closed the door, I saw she was standing there, looking at me forlornly, a small silver spoon held tightly in one hand. I stood the rest of the trip, keeping an eye out for any new approach while trying to ignore the growing ticking sound that filled my head.
The rest of the day was no better. One of the people at the meeting stared at me funny the entire time, pressing me to go to lunch with them when we were finished. When I kept politely refusing, they grew angry, telling me “that’s fine. That’s fine. I’ll get to eat eventually.”
That afternoon, I stayed in my office with the door closed. The ticking would come and go, but it was always with me, inside me somewhere. My left cheek had taken to jumping slightly in time with the beat of it, and I kept thinking that somehow someone had hidden a clock inside me, perhaps buried behind my eyes or squirreled away inside the bone of my jaw. It was a silly thought, but its absurdity made it more troubling, not less. Something was wrong with me, either physically or mentally, and I needed to do something about it. Hoping it was just stress, I decided to skip the doctor for now and just go home early. And though it was expensive, I decided to treat myself to a cab.
The driver kept glancing at me in the mirror, but he made no attempts at small talk. Instead, he just silently slowed as he went to turn down a dead end street three blocks from the route that would take me home. When I told him this was the wrong way, that this was a dead end street, he just kept turning, licking his lips as he gazed back at me, his pupils seeming to jump in time with my cheek, with the ticking in my face.
Popping my seatbelt, I opened the car door and jumped out, twisting my ankle slightly as I awkwardly landed on the asphalt and moved up to the sidewalk. Looking back at the cab, I saw he had stopped fully now, and as I walked by at a quick, hobbling pace, I saw the driver fumbling in his glove compartment for something. This spurred me to walk faster despite the pain, and when I looked back at the next intersection, I saw that the cab and its driver were gone.
When I finally got home, Sofie was already there in the kitchen, humming along as she baked my cake. She frowned when she saw my face, asking what was wrong. I didn’t want to go into any details, and my face was ticking so loud now it was hard to even think, let alone go through the strangeness of my day. I told her I was going to go lay down for a bit until dinner was ready.
I’d just started to drift off to sleep when Sofie’s voice above me roused me again.
“You didn’t open it yet.”
I looked around, momentarily confused. “What?” She pointed to the small black box on the nightstand. “Your present. You haven’t opened it yet.”
I glanced at it and then back to her. I was so tired and hungry now, and the ticking wouldn’t stop. But I didn’t want to ruin all her hard work, or make her think I didn’t care about my present either. Forcing a smile, I nodded. “I was waiting for you. Want me to open it now?”
Grinning at me, she gave a nod and climbed onto the bed with me. Pushing myself into a sitting position, I grabbed up the box and pulled the black ribbon free. I glanced up at her. “Fancy box. Exciting.”
Tick tick tick She fluttered her hand and laughed. “I hope you like it.” Tick tick tick
Nodding, I lifted off the top of the box. Nestled down in a tangle of purple silk was a metal spoon. Tick tick tick One of those small grapefruit spoons with the sharp, serrated teeth at the end. I looked up at her, questioningly. Tick Tick Tick Her eyes were filling with tears.
“Do you like it?”
Tick Tick Tick
I felt my own vision blurring. “Of course I do.” I realized it wasn’t a lie. It was just what I wanted, what I needed. I loved her so much, and we were both so hungry, after all.
Picking up the spoon, I felt a thrill of excitement run through me like current. “You get the first bite, Sof.” I raised the metal teeth of the spoon to the flesh of my cheek when she stopped me, her face concerned.
TICK TICK TICK
“No, honey. It’s your birthday, after all.”
I grinned. “That means I get to pick.” Digging the spoon into my cheek, I let out a scream as pain flared across my face. Blood sprayed out onto the comforter, and I could feel trails of warmth running down my jaw and neck. I pushed harder, and new nerves screeched their pain and death as I excavated further. The teeth of the spoon were sharp, but I have less leverage from underneath, meaning I was tearing away the bottom of the spoonful more than I was cutting it. My whole cheek flexed out like a mountain of flesh and fire, my screams growing tight and strange as I sweated with the effort and twisted the spoon to sever the last bit of flesh. Using my other hand, I kept the chunk of meat from falling off as I guided it shakily to Sophie. She opened and took it in gratefully, chewing with the small, tearful solemnity of someone taking communion.
tick tick tick
When she opened her eyes again, her face was glowing, and I don’t know I’ve ever loved anyone more than I did her in that moment. Finding a tender spot on my other cheek, I set the spoon’s teeth against it. It would be slower, but if I broke the skin all around with the teeth before going in, I thought I’d have an easier time of it.
“Thank you for sharing, sweetheart.”
I would have responded, but I was already screaming again, the blood that was finding its way onto my tongue only making the rumbling in my stomach worse. There was some small part of me screaming that this was all wrong, this was all insane, that it had to stop before I was hurt worse than I already was. But that was silly. This was all just fine. And I would just get one big bite and then stop. I didn’t want to get too full for cake.