I rubbed the strange object in my pocket as I waited for Old Ed. Surely he heard the tinkling sound the door made and would soon emerge from the back chamber of his shop. In Hypogea, my uncle was both revered for his ability to fix things and shunned as an eccentric outsider. His brother, my father and a leader among those who survived the Subterranean Retreat, made sure of the latter. I’d be punished if seen anywhere near Old Ed, but he alone held the answers I so desperately needed.

 

Shelves of mechanical oddities covered the earthen walls on three sides of the repair shop. Boxes of various sizes with tails hanging from them, glass orbs, and jars of small objects the likes of which I’d never seen lured me closer.

 

A clatter erupted from behind a tattered curtain.

 

“Hello. Is everything OK back there?”

 

A petite man peeked out. “So, sorry. Didn’t hear the bell. I’ll be right out.” Inaudible mumbling and banging followed until Old Ed shuffled into the shop. “What can I do for you, son?”

 

I held the object tight before pulling it from my pocket. “I have something I’d like you to look at, sir.” A round, golden object and chain lay in my outstretched palm.

 

Old Ed inspected it. “My, my. I haven’t seen one of these since--,” he surveyed me, “--since before you were born.”

 

“I was born in Hypogea, sir,” I said, fishing to see if he recognized me.

 

“That much is clear. What isn’t clear is where you’d find such a fine pocket watch.” His eyes still fixated on the timepiece. “May I examine it?”

 

I held my breath, suspecting the inscription inside would cause a stir. “Please.”

 

Old Ed lifted the golden watch from my hand with his thumb and forefinger, letting the chain dangle. He massaged the protruding mechanism forward and backward before pushing down to release the cover. A faint ticking sound pierced the silence of the room.

 

Then Old Ed held the watch closer. “Where did you get this?” His voice was firm and demanding.

 

“I’d rather not say.”

 

Old Ed thrust it into his pocket. “Well then, it belongs to me.”

 

“Hey! Give it back!” I took a step toward my uncle, but he held his ground.

 

He pulled the watch from his pocket. “This belonged to my father.” He opened the cover, “‘To Charles, Love Ellen.’” Old Ed sat on a bench against the back wall. “I haven’t seen this in decades.” His head hung low. “They didn’t make it underground during the Great Retreat and perished. What I don’t understand is how it came to be in your possession.”

 

I hadn’t planned this far ahead, so I wasn't sure how to respond. While everyone attended the Annual Security Meeting earlier, I had snuck to the farthest security area. Armed with a map to my father’s old address and a friend willing to break the rules, we had waited for the guard to fall asleep, suited up, and made the climb to the surface. We had run through ruin-filled streets to a house that was nothing but rubble. Grey skies closed in as I’d searched the ash for anything to connect me to a past I never knew. A breeze rippled the soot, and a glint had caught my attention.

 

My friend had shouted. “We have to go!”

 

I’d grabbed the object and ran back toward Hypogea.

 

Fear had gripped me as I entered the airlock. If the object was discovered, I’d be jailed. Without thinking, I’d ripped a hole through the suit large enough to pocket my find. Inside, we’d returned the suits and parted ways, giddy our adventure was successful.

 

Old Ed expected an explanation. My only hope was distraction.

 

“My father is General Langdon.”

 

Old Ed gasped. “Gerald? I was told you died with your mother in childbirth.”

 

“I was told you were crazy and am forbidden to speak with you.”

 

“Your father and I never saw eye to eye even before the Great Retreat. I will not speak badly of him, but there is much you should know, if you so desire.” My uncle stood, his arms outstretched.

 

Overwhelmed with emotion, I fell into my estranged uncle’s arms and wept. He made ginger tea and told the stories my father refused to tell: how my grandparents spoiled their sons, how my parents met, and how life as they knew it unraveled under the last president. My uncle did not tell the story of why he and my father were at odds, and I didn't ask.

 

At midnight, a series of musical notes sounded throughout the shop. A hologram of a woman who called herself Sirius, materialized on the counter. She spoke. “Air quality report, Day 4450: Red alert. High level of toxins. Consequences of exposure unknown.”

 

My heart fluttered. Time had gotten away from me. Father would likely notice me missing by now. “Uncle Ed, I must be going. If Father--”

 

“Understood. This night is our secret.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the watch. “This is rightly yours. Hide it well.”

 

I placed the watch in my pocket, hugged my uncle, and stepped into the night. If I’d known he could also repair hearts, I would have visited sooner.

 

The streets were empty as I hurried along to the abode I shared with my father. I clung to the pocket watch as I crawled through the secret opening into my sleep chamber. A light shone from the hallway, and manly voices filled the meeting area. Father hadn’t noticed me gone.

 

I lay down to sleep. An itch crawled across my thigh. Bright red skin peeked through a rip in my pants. I ignored the annoyance, placed my hands on my heart, the gold chain dangling by my side, and closed my eyes. “To Charles, Love Ellen,” I whispered, convincing myself it was worth the risk.