Liebe Eulen,
ich schenke, wie ihr eventuell schon wisst, meinem Freund zu Weihnachten eine Armbanduhr und wollte, um das ganze noch etwas persönlicher zu machen, dazu eine Geschichte schreiben, in der er mit dieser Uhr durch die Zeit reisen kann.
Ich habe die Geschichte auf Englisch geschrieben, weil mir im Prozess des Schreibens aufgefallen ist, dass ich meine Gedanken auf Englisch besser formulieren konnte.
Ich habe jedoch viel kürzen müssen, da ich will, dass er das ganze an einem Weihnachtsabend lesen und sich trotzdem noch mit anderen Geschenken beschäftigen kann.
Vielleicht findet ihr ja mal Zeit, euch die Geschichte durchzulesen und mir zu sagen, was ihr davon haltet. Auf jeden Fall schonmal Danke! 
Sailor on the Ocean of Time
Blazing flames were licking dangerously into the sky. People ran around screaming horrifiedly, some of them trying to save the precious papyri by piling them up in the sand in a sufficient distance from the building. The famous library of Alexandria was burning. He could see all this from his relatively save position, only once in a while being bumped into by one or the other Egyptian, running around hectically.
He slided the sleeve of his garment up, so that a watch came in sight, which was made of joined brown metal pieces. He pulled at the little bolt, which was at one side of the body of the watch, up to the second position, turned it three times and pushed it back in, until he could feel it click into place again. And then it began. God, he hated this feeling, he was always getting sick. It felt as if all his organs were pulled into one tiny knot. He squinted his eyes… and it was over.
Where would it lead him now? Would he, maybe, finally arrive near her? No, he still hadn’t fulfilled his task.
~~~
He opened his grayish-green eyes and felt for his spectacles with the big black frame. He was relieved they were intact.
The sky was cloudy-grey and he could smell the smoke of factories. He was lying on something like cobblestone pavement. Someone was kicking him in the side.
“Ye’d better go get to work, mate.” He lifted his head. A big carriage stood right in front of him, the coachman staring impatiently down at him.
“Yeah, right…“ He stumbled to his feet. At first he had to get rid of his old-Egyptian clothing. He was already being eyed by passers-by. But on his way to someplace where he could fetch some clothes, he stole a newspaper to find out where and when he was.
The paper was the Belfast Telegraph and it dated from February 20th, 1912. The headline was “Construction of Gigantic Luxury Liner Titanic completed!” Now that was a difficult challenge.
He knew about the Titanic. She was talking about it over and over. She had seen the movie and read a lot of books about it. What did she say were the failures made before the departure of that ship? Right, there was something about the life boats, the missing binoculars, the warnings about ice bergs that have been ignored, the high speed of the ship … He had a lot to do and it was not going to be easy.
~~~
The door sign read Thomas Andrews, Chief Constructor. He knocked three times, waited for the “Come in, please!”, opened the door and went into the office.
The man he knew from a lot of pictures in history books looked at him in bewilderment.
“How can I help you?”
“Mr. Andrews, I know it seems strange, but I have to talk to you about the Titanic. It’s about the life boats…”
They met again a week after, this time in the local pub, the Black Boar. Time and again he thought this situation through and could still not come to a conclusion why Thomas Andrews listened to him and after all agreed to try his best to talk the ship owning company into positioning a second row of life boats on deck.
He was half through his glass of red wine – dry, as always - as the doors opened and Andrews entered. His eyes met Eric’s and then went to the ground. He knew immediately that Andrews’ efforts were in vain.
He drained the rest of his wine, paid it, stood up and left, nodding shortly to Andrews.
Southampton, April 10th, 1912
He watched the pier go by as the huge propellers pushed the ship forward to the sea. People on the quay were waving to relatives on the ship and vice versa, the passengers seemed happy and curious what the new world would bring for them. Being the only one who knew that this ship would run into mischief, felt awkward. He had put two binoculars into his suitcase which he abandoned to some luggage appointee before he went on board. Now he hoped that he could somehow convince the captain to consider the ice warnings, which would be coming from other ships. If all this worked, the disaster with Andrews and the life boats would be forgettable.
From money he had managed to put on a bank account on a time trip to earlier periods, he had bought a first-class-ticket, being aware of the fact that mostly first-class-passengers survived. That kind of luxury he had to grant himself.
Meanwhile, the Titanic had passed France and Ireland and was facing the open sea. The sight was incredible. The air tasted of salt and waved through his brown, chin-long, slightly curly hair, making it look untidy. There was a feeling of freedom rising in him, although he knew what was coming and what he had to do to prevent it.
“Sir! Sir!” Someone in a marine suit was addressing him, looking concerned and pitiful.
Oh no! He could already presume what was to be said next.
“There’s an issue with your luggage, Sir. I’m inconsolable, but someone left it in Southampton. But be assured that the White Star Line will pay you a substitution when we arrive in New York. Meanwhile, my co-workers and I will spend all our time to make you feel comfortable.” He smiled encouragingly.
Oh, did he know that by this they almost sealed their fate! He shook his head and turned away from the unlucky chap, who now tried to offer him a brandy. He waved him to leave, lit a cigarette, leaned on the railing and watched the sinking sun setting the sky on fire. Oh yes, as if a brandy could help them…
~~~
To the captain he introduced himself as someone who has worked in the shipbuilding business, to get all possible information. So he was already around as the first ice warning occurred the other day. He glanced quickly on his watch. April 12th, still one day to go, but he could already plant the seeds…
“Sir, ice is early this year. Maybe we should throttle the engines a little, so that there is more time to see ice bergs coming and take action.”
“Rest calm, Sir. Harland and Wolff built a safe ship for you to travel on. Although I do not really trust these Irishmen…” His joke made the other passengers around laugh loudly. So this attempt failed, but he still had time…
The Atlantic Ocean, April 14th, 1912
The golden letters on the stern of the ship finally sank into the sea too, after it broke into two parts. Around three quarters of the late Victorian passengers swam in the icy water of the Atlantic Ocean.
He could see all this from the safe distance of a life boat, being surrounded by few other survivors.
He sighed. Here, too, he had not been able to do anything to prevent the catastrophe. Was not able to anticipate the inescapable. Full of disillusionment he pulled at the little bolt on his watch, turned it three times, pushed it back in… And he was gone again, wandering through the times, always trying to do what his mission was.
Sed fugit interea, fugit inreparabile tempus…
Edit: Das Lateinische Zitat ist hinten auf die Uhr graviert.
![:-]](https://www.buechereule.de/images/smilies/pleased.gif){kind=small}
