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- Artists
- Pardee, Alex
 - Edition Details
| Year: | 2009 | | Class: | Original Art | | Status: | Official | | Run: | 1 | | Technique: | Original Mixed Media | | Size: | 16 X 20 | | Markings: | Signed |
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This was originally created for Alex's "Hiding From The Normals" Art Show.
The story of THE GRANDFATHER as observed by Detective William Dekker:
"I’m scared, I'll admit it. My first real contact. I ran back there only to ESCAPE and write about the blind one, the one who COULDN'T see me, and ended up turning my own blind eye to my surroundings. And another one saw ME. And spoke! I initially ran behind the antique store off of 43rd St. because I could blend in with the discarded junk that's always overflowing out of their multiple dumpsters. Lamps embellished with broken elephants at the base, "vintage" wheelchairs which were just broken wood nailed to Red Flyer wheels, piles of romance novels and "...For Dummies" books, and about a thousand old computer monitors that would probably only have the passion to turn themselves on if they were plugged into a Commodore 64. I fit in. My jacket and fedora was the same color as most of the dirty clutter out there, making me invisible. As I was jotting down my notes, I noticed an old grandfather clock jammed into the corner among a pile of other smaller clocks, watches and cardboard boxes. As I was writing, I kept catching myself, almost obliviously, looking up at the clock to see what time it is, not really noticing that the clock was WORKING. That didn't strike me as odd for, shit, almost an hour. But once i noticed that it was working, I stared at it. I watched the hour hand desperately compete in a race that the minute hand ALWAYS won, no matter what. I tried to imagine who would've thrown that out. Sure it had a few scratches and cracks but it was gorgeous. Being mesmerized by its slight movements, I waited in anticipation for it to strike 6 PM, my childish side hoping that an elaborate scene would burst out of its chest like the cuckoo clock my mom had built for my dad for their 30th anniversary so long ago. 58...59...0! As it struck 6, there was no bird bursting out of its chest. There were no spinning gears. There was no deep noise. Instead, to my utter surprise, there WAS something else. The entire clock face moved! one of the cracks opened wider revealing an eye, and another crack revealing a twisted mouth. Unlike the clock, I couldn't move. But i didn't have to, because the clock moved toward me. It locked its eye on mine, and emerged from the rubble. It was a Marrower. A large one. Male. The broken clock face covering his own face. The remainder of his body covered in a dirty jumpsuit and random watches and clocks strapped to him like suicide bombs. He meandered closer to me and I had nowhere to run even if i could muster up the courage to do so. I knew he saw me. As he got within feet of me, he stalled, and then threw something at me. It was an old broken analog watch. It was still ticking, but barely. And then he muttered something I will never forget, both because his voice was more eerie that i had anticipated, and because of what he said. "Your time is up." There was a pause, and then...."Soon." He then climbed into a large dumpster and either blended in or disappeared. Because he was gone in my eyes. I wonder what he meant. I wonder how much he knows....about me..."
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