It was almost, the turn of the century and Frederick had good reason to worry. When that clock rang in the new millennium, it was doom for his wife, Matilda and family. He had to stop that clock and make sure 12 o'clock never came. The hands already pointed to 10 PM December 31, 1999 making the impending peril and time more important.
He appealed to the keeper of clocks, placing his case before him a few days ago, but Father Time would not compromise. He was unimpressed and refused to help. Time would march on as planned.
Silly people everywhere were fretting about the turn of the century. What did they have to fear? It wouldn't kill their families, although some of them thought it would. He didn't understand most people, as they feared the strangest things. Most of them didn't even know what Y2K stood for, much lessknow what it would do. They were stocking water, canned goods, bullets, and money, thinking that would help them.
He glanced at the clock that held his family's fate in its hands. It was already 10:10 PM and he had to do something soon, anything. He couldn't just stand there watching his life go down the drain.
The only person he knew that made sense, was his cousin's friend, Carl. He thought all this hype of Y2K was hogwash. Carl was a true exception. He knew what was important and what wasn't. He had a darn good head on him, where other people didn't make much sense. Frederick decided to ask for his help, but he wasn't sure even Carl could solve this dilemma.
It was that or his family, so Frederick had no choice. It took him 45 minutes to run into Sydney where Carl lived. Thank goodness he was home, sitting at his computer as usual.
Carl smiled when he saw his visitor. "Well, hello Frederick! How's it goin, fellow?"
"I need your help! I need your help! Please hurry, there is no time," Frederick answered. He didn't have time for chit chat. Carl's computer blinked 11:01 PM reminding him of his problem.
"Woe, Frederick!" he held his hand up. "Slow down, mate! What's your hurry?"
Frederick tried to get hold of himself, to speak slowly and explain the situation but by the time he finished the computer was screaming at him. It was now 11:10 PM.
"OK! I understand. Now what can I do to help?" Carl asked puzzled.
"I trust you . Come help me hold back the hands of the clock.
"Well," Carl thought for a moment. "Ill try! But if it is the clock you say it is, I doubt being able to help much. Come on let's get on my motorcycle and go out there to see what we can do."
Frederick jumped on the back of the big bike and the two friends tooled out of town while Frederick spouted directions. In no time they were there at the secreted clock. It was well hidden beneath a hill and Carl had a hard time trying even getting close to it. He was too large to enter the hole, even his hand wouln't fit.
When Matilda decided they would make their home there, they didn't know where they were. It was all a crazy accident. But now he had to stop time, somehow. She was ensconced and couldn't move even if she had wanted to.
Other clocks didn't matter, only this one. This was the clock that actually controlled time in the world. This was the true 'Time' clock. He wished she hadn't chosen to make their home here, but what can you say to a pregnant lady when she has her heart set on a place to have babies.
Frederick was frantic, it was now 11:45 PM and the clock was going to strike midnight soon. "Think of something! Please Carl! Please!" he pleaded.
Suddenly, Carl had an idea. He could see the face of the clock but couldn't reach it. He took a pencil from his pocket and tried to push the hands back with in. It didn't work.
"Oh my, oh my! What are we going to do?" Frederick shouted. "I am about to lose my wife and family! Please do something. Quick!"
Carl scratched his head, went back to his motorcycle, and got out a pair of needle nose pliars. He tried using them to grab the hands of the clock, but they wouldn't. He was at a loss as to what he could do to help his friends. The clock ticked closer to midnight. It was now 11:50 PM.
All of a sudden Carl had a grand thought. He broke the eraser off his pencil and handed it to Frederick. He explained that the eraser had to be placed between the cogs inside the gearbox mechanism in the clock.
Frederick thought it just might work. He had to try. Down the hole he ran with the eraser and placed it where he was told. It fit! But the rubber was bending, and he knew it would not hold. It was now 11:53 PM. In a frenzy, he ran back to. His beady little black eyes, big rounded ears, and little pointed nose twitched madly. It was panic time.
He screeched at Carl, "Do something, Do something!"
What could they do to stop that clock?
"Ah ha!" at last Carl had an idea. He reached into his pocket and took out a toothpick." Here little buddy!" he said handing it to his friend. "Stick this in the works. This just might hold it for a little while."
Down the hole Frederick went and jammed the wooden stick into the whirling wheels. The clock stopped dead at 11:59 PM. Just as Frederick did this he heard Matilda squeal and the births had begun. Once the babies were born, all eight of them, they hadto get them out before the toothpick broke. The proud parents brought the tiny little bodies out of the hole, one at a time. Carl found an empty box close by and gently placed the newborns in it. He was amazed at the varieties of colors of the field mice. Some were cinnamon, some were gray and others were multicolored.
Now his brood were safe and sound, Frederick went back inside the clock. He chewed the stick with his sharp teeth, until the wood finally broke. The little clock began to ring in the witching hour of midnight. Now, he thought, the humans can have their new year.
"Thank you, my human friend." He said, "I couldn't have saved my family without. I guess that people are not all as bad as I thought they were." He smiled and stuck his tiny mouse paw out to shake hands with Carl.
"Glad to be of service, matey! Your cousin kept me company when I was all alone and needed someone. It's the least I can do to repay the favor. I've got to run now."
He waved to his little friend , got on his bike and shouted as he rode into the night, "You have a Happy New Year, you hear!"

Sharon Faraday grabbed a hammer, a few nails and headed for the front of her new home. She was determined to hang a wreath on her solid wood front door. She took a large nail from the pocket of her apron and hammered it into the wood. Her husband, Jonathan, wasn't keen on her idea, but she was going to do it anyway.
She thought to herself, Id do this if the pond out front freezes over, then she realized it had. This made her laugh aloud. After all, it was Christmas and a time for good cheer.
"Now," she stated proudly. "That is a doornail that will hang most anything." She smiled, shaking her head up and down, in agreement with her own assessment. Then went back inside to get the wreath to place on the nail.
Jonathan was a big man standing six feet six, mild mannered, and easy going as a rule. But when he stepped up to the door and slipped on the ice that had accumulated on the porch, his head went forward and slammed into the nail that hit him in the ear. She heard him swear loudly.
"Sharon,Damn it! Come here! I need you." He shouted.
She was in the foyer and heard his outcry. She jerked the door open to see him sprawled out on the porch with blood running down the side of his face.
"My God, happened to you?" she asked in amazement.
"You went ahead and put a doornail up, after all. Didn't I tell you not to do that?" He stated angerly.
She could see he was upset, as well as injured.
"Yes dear, I didn't think...."
"That's the trouble with you Sharon, sometimes you don't think," he stammered back at her. "I told you it would ruin the hardwood and now it has ruined my ear as well. I hope you're proud of yourself." He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at the blood coming from his torn ear.
"Oh Honey, I'm so sorry! I never expected that a little tiny doornail could do so much damage." She reached down to try to help him up but he shrugged her away.
"I can get up by myself. If you want to do something constructive, get some rock salt and throw it on that ice out here before someone else stumbles or gets hurt on that damn doornail." Jonathan was obviously not going to just let this go or forget it.
She hurried into the kitchen and returned in time to see him picking himself up gingerly, from the slick entrance. He reached up, grabbed the box out of her hand and began throwing its contents all over the porch. "That should help some."
He handed the half-full box back and smiled. "I know you were trying to decorate the place up, honey. But maybe you better try something else and pull that out damn nail."
She grinned as if to agree, however she was going to have her wreath come what may. She was a very hard headed woman and determination had been one of the things that had attracted Jonathan to her in the first place. Nothing was said about the nail on the door again that night.
It was a night of sleet and snow, mixed together. The lights blinked due to overloaded ice on the lines ice, flickering several times. The next morning after Jonathan went out the back door to work, Sharon decided to sneak out and hang her wreath on the door to surprise him. She ran to the door and opened it.
She was shocked see a man lying spread eagle, half
way into the side shrubs and on lying on his face on the porch. She tried to move him, but when she grabbed his arm, she saw a large hole in his forehead. She screamed and dropped him running into the house to call the police. Then she called her husband, Jonathan at work.
He asked,"Did you take that doornail off our front door?"
"No, I havn't had a chance," she lied.
"I sure hope it is not what got that guy. I'll be right home! Hang in there honey!" he added, trying to give her support.
She saw the police car coming up in front of the house so hurried back to the door.
"I don't know what happened to the man he was just laying there when I opened the door this morning."
The policeman rolled the man over and Sharon saw the hole in his forehead again. She held breath and gasped.
"Well, Ma'am, I can't find a pulse. It looks like he's deader than a doornail."
Her face went white. My God, she thought, I might have killed him.
"You know who he is, Ma'am, by any chance?"
Sharon was about to answer the question when she saw Jonathan's car rounding the corner."Oh! here comes my husband. Maybe he will knows." Her heart was in her throat and was shaking she WAS scared.
Jonathan got out of the car and approached the policeman. "Officer, is that man going to be all right?"
"No sir, he isn't! He's dead, has a hole in his forehead." The policeman pointed at the corpse. "You know this man?"
Jonathan replied, "No officer, I don't, I've never seen him before."
Sharon stood with her hands over her mouth, not believing her eyes. She wondered her front door I nail had killed the man.
Jonathan saw that Sharon was turning white and suggested, "You better come in officer. I think my wife is about to faint and it's cold out here." They stepped over the body, he took Sharon by the arm to steady her and they all went inside.
"I need to use your phone to call for the coroner, anyway." the policema"n added. I would advise you neitherto go anywhere till we get to the bottom of this."
Jonathan handed the officer a portable phone and helped Sharon sit down. Then he whispered to her, "Hope you took that doornail down."
"No honey,didn't!" She was still white as a ghost. "Do you think my stubbornness killed that poor soul?"
The officer heard the question she asked. "Not unless you have a small gun, you didn't. That man was shot to death."
"Shot!" Both Sharon and her husband chimed out at the same time.
" Looks like he was shot with a small caliber gun. I better go back outside and wait for the county coroner." He got up and went outside.
The Faradays shock was total. Jonathan put his arms around his wife for support.
"Its OK! We'll find out what happened. I'm sure you didn't do anything to hurt anyone." He held her closely to let her know she was not going through this alone.
Another squad arrived and two more policemen examined the dead man. Then coroner came and took the body away. Jonathan made sure his wife was all right and then returned to work as soon as they had all left. Sharon got up, went to the tool cabinet, got the hammer and pried the doornail off the door.
She decided she didn't want a wreath on her door as bad as she thought. Jonathan was right it would damage the wood.
The next day the first policeman returned. They had found out who the dead man was and why he had been shot.
"Seems the man was having an affair with one of yours neighbors and her husband came home unexpectedly. He shot at the guy, but didn't know he hit him. He must of gotten as far as your front step before he keeled over." The policeman continued to explain. "We arrested the husband but his wife is defending him now. I doubt if he will end up paying for his crime. She is claiming the affair was over and the dead man wouldn't take no for an answer. They says he broke in and they're claiming self defense. So, I guess you two are in the clear."
After they left, Jonathan asked Sharon, "Honey did you ever get that doornail off the front door?"
"I sure did! I learned my lesson and from now on when you tell me something I'm going to listen."
He went over to her and threw his arms around her, kissing her. "Yeah Right! he said and laughed, kissing her again. "Sure! You ALWAYS do what I tell you to do!"

Cassandra knew Malcolm for several years, but was surprised after they dated a few times, when he proposed marriage. He was the man of her dreams, handsome, charming, and debonair. She was the envy of every woman in town, as no one had ever been able to keep his eye for long. So everyone couldn't believe that plain looking, little, Cassandra had nabbed him. A honeymoon in Acapulco was the perfect beginning for their wonderful life together.
Life without her parents had been so difficult, that when Malcolm came along, he filled her every need. She trusted him implicitly. After the wedding she signed over the running of her father’s multimillion dollar company to Malcolm. After all he worked there and knew the business like the back of his hand. He was her father’s right hand man. She was never good with money anyway. This had been a month to remember. Now on her 21st birthday, she didn’t need an executor any more. Malcolm would do it all for her, with her blessings.
Cassandra's face radiated pure joy as she draped red velvet and gold gossamer ribbons across the branches of a blue spruce tree. Carefully, she placed crystal teardrops, snowflakes, and angel ornaments, amid open spaces.
She stepped back, admiring her work after each addition. "Finally, it’s starting to look a bit more like Christmas around here." To her surprise a voice behind her answered. She turned to see her always faithful and loving servant standing there.
"It is beautiful Mrs. De Leon, but I think it needs one more angel over on the right side," Martha pointed towards an open space. "That will make it absolutely perfect."
"Thank you so much, Martha dear. You have such a good eye for things like this. I value your opinion highly." She placed one final angel where Martha suggested. "You're right, that added the finishing touch."
She turned and hugged her old friend, just as her husband, Malcolm, came through the door. He cleared his throat to let them know he was observing their display of affection.
Martha immediately retreated from the room. She did not like her mistress’ new husband. It was apparent the feeling was mutual.
He spoke with disdain. "I do wish you wouldn’t hug the servants, Cassandra. It breeds contempt among the help."
"Oh Malcolm, Martha is different. She has been with me since I was a child. She's more like my Mother than a servant." She ran over and hugged him to appease his anger. "Now let's not argue about trivial things. This is the day I‘ve been waiting for."
"You’re right, we have much to celebrate," he said, passing her a glass of wine. "To you, my darling wife; May this be the happiest day of your life!"
She raised her glass and drank deeply. He smiled tenderly and raised his glass again.
She took another drink and felt warm inside. A strange feeling came over her and her world began to spin with the slight swaying of her body. Blinking her eyes, in an effort to recover her balance, she lifted her hand to her forehead. She gazed down at her trembling fingers. The red wine was oozing slowly over the goblet's rim, as her hand loosened, and lost its grasp. The green crystal glass went crashing down on the hearth below.
The sound of breaking glass reverberated across the room, magnifying itself in Cassandra’s head. Her knees buckled below her, as her body descended in slow motion, toward the floor. The last thing she remembered was shard’s of crystal cutting into her tender white skin. Then, everything went black.
Malcolm remained seated, a slight sneer on his face. When he did arise, he walked over, looked down, and kicked at his partners limp body. "It’s about time. I thought that stuff was never going to work." He drank the rest of his drink, then added, "Well, there's work to be done. I’d better get on with it. Once this is over, I’ll never have to account for that money I’ve embezzled from old Jonathan’s Company." He laughed heartily.
He lifted her body and grumbled. "Damn, but you're heavy for such a small girl." He neglected to consider she would be dead weight. Finally, he picked her up, lurched up the staircase and dumped her on the floor. He stopped to catch his breath. Then, proceeded to pull her to the bedroom, and throw her face down on top of the bed. That job accomplished, he, and headed downstairs to the garage.
Martha had never liked Malcolm De Leon but more than that she feared him. There was something about him she sensed was dangerous. She feared he would hurt Cassandra. She watched her grow from a child to a beautiful woman and she did not intend to let that gold digger hurt her mistress. She had hidden around the corner, watching, and waiting.
She knew she had to act fast, as she watched Malcolm go into the garage. She ran upstairs to see what he had done to Cassandra. She grabbed her mistress by the legs, pulled her off the bed, and dragged her down the hallway to the dumb waiter. She shoved her in, pushed the button, sending her strange cargo downstairs. Martha was out of breath but she ran down the back servants' staircase. There, she hid in the shadows waiting for Malcolm’s return.
When the way was clear, she pulled Cassandra from the dumb waiter. Time was running out, and she feared Malcolm might discover Cassandra was missing. The strong smell of gasoline fumes permeated the air within the mansion. Martha pulled Cassandra's with all her might out into the yard, and through the garden to a safe place. Suddenly a brilliant flash lit up the sky. The house was completely ablaze.
Fire engines, soon roared up, as busy men with fire-hoses tried to save the place. Unfortunately, the flames were too intense. Martha held her mistress in her arms cradling her head while she watched their home go up in smoke.
Malcolm stood in front of it crying, and told the fire chief, "My wife and her servant were the only ones at home. I arrived just in time to see the place burst in flames. He added, "I tried to help them, but it was just too late."
"You did all you could. Go somewhere, to a motel or friends, and try to rest. Just let us know where you are." The chief told him. "There's nothing more you can do here. We'll have to stay around for a while to make sure it doesn't re-ignite." He patted Malcolm on the shoulder. "We'll let you know when . . . when the bodies are found."
Malcolm got into their red Ferrari and left in a hurry. When he left, Martha came out to tell the fire chief what happened, and where her mistress lay. They rushed the two women to the hospital.
When Cassandra regained consciousness, Martha explained what had happened.
"I would never have believed it, if I hadn’t seen the cold hatred in his face as I passed out. My last conscious thought was, why is he not trying to help me?" Cassandra took her friend's hand, squeezed it, and held on tightly. "Martha what would I do without you? God bless you."
Martha smiled "We're both blessed!"
Later that evening, Malcolm was arrested.
The two friends celebrated the holiday season in a hotel. It wasn't the same, but they were happy considering the circumstances. It was a Christmas they would never forget. Material things were replaceable But life, friendship, and the love they felt for each other were worth more than money could buy. These are the greatest, most precious gifts of all.

"I awoke insweat. God it was awful!"
"What's bothering you?"
Tommy Lee, 55, was from Oklahoma, but not the "Cowboy type". He was an educated man, with a degree, although he had gotten it by mail. A computer expert, one of the best they said. But he cracked up and started screaming something about the Internet messing up his life, so his family rushed him to the mental. He is still there raving it.
"I was a Webmaster and everything, but I got too smart! I started Cyber-romancing women and it was fun too"
"So you enjoyed that!"
"Yeah, I sure did! Young and old broads, it didn't matter. They believed every damn word I said because I was a clever, charming devil. They all wanted friends and Id promised them exotic trips. That hooked them! Id even send them gifts, write poetry or copy someone elses. It convinced them all I was sincere, romantic and I was hooked on them. They believed it all."
"Then what happened?" Dr. Jones, the psychiatrist, made notes in his little black book.
"Well, from there, sex was easy. " Tommy smiled just thinking about it. "I would travel to meet these women. Always took my laptop, so I could be working on new ones along the way. It was a great thing!"
"So how did you get hurt?"
"It worked for a while, that is until Laurie. Then everything changed. She almost did me in." Tommy looked confused.
"How is that? Didn't you know she might want more from you then just a romp in the hay?" Dr. Jones pressed him for an answer.
"Oh Sure! At first she thought I was going to marry her. We talked about moving to Tennessee where she could paint and I could write; maybe even moving to Mexico. We would have maids to do all the work and we would both be creative." Tommy continued to grin. "But it was bull crap and Laurie knew that, right after I met her first time. I made a point of telling her I had changed my mind. She just wasn't pretty enough and it didn't make any difference anyway. I wasn't going to give up my great scam of getting all these women. She wasn't happy about it, but accepted that was the way it was. She had no choice or she would lose me"
"Are you sure she accepted that?" Dr. Jones tapped his pencil on his hand.
"Oh yes, she yelled a bit but she agreed to my terms. We'd meet and spend a weekend of hot sex. Her husband didn't suspect a thing. She told him she was going on a business trip .... I got to admit she told me she was a calculating woman. That was my first mistake. But I just took her for what I could get and said we would stay 'special friends'. That way I could hit on her again, later."
"So was went wrong, Tommy?" asked the Doctor.
"She told me she played chess .... She warned me .... then everything blew up. That's what happened! .... When I told her Id only see her occasionally, she got angry."
"What did she do?" The Doctor scratched his head with the pencil.
"What didn't she do? She was always one step ahead of me. She knew who I was trying to seduce and where I was going to be." Now Tommy was frowning.
"Now, how could she do that? She wasn't as mind reader was she?"
Tommy got more aggitated at this question. " NO! she didn't have too. That's the worse part. At first she only got mad. Then she said, it was OK. She said she understood and kept telling me whatever I did wouldn't matter. We would still be special friends. So I trusted her." Tommy Lee slammed his fist into his other hand a few times as if beating something. "That was my second mistake!"
"So what happened then?" Doc wrote a few more words in the book.
"Well, I under estimated her. That's what! She found out all she wanted to know about me on the Internet. She worked for a security company doing Internet fraud. She knew how to get anything on me; my separate email accounts, all my ICQ accounts in different names. Laurie was real good."
"And this made you angry?"
"Your damn right it did! Every time I went to one of my fake accounts to meet a new lady and start my cyber-sex act, Id make plans. After a few weeks Id go to meet the women. Sometimes, I would even arrange to meet this lady at a motel. When I got to the room, that bitch was there when I opened the door. No matter where I went, she was laughing at me. It got so bad I was afraid to make friends on the Internet and my sex life went to hell."
"Did you talk to her about this?"
"Yeah! She said she wasn't

interested in me any more, sexually. That really confused me."
"And what else did she say?"
"She said it was the principal of the thing. She hated injustice and felt I was shafting every woman I met, throwing them away. She said someone had to show me I was doing an unethical thing."
"Do you think it was unethical?"
Tommy shifted in his chair. "I don't know! But there were a lot of women out there just asking for it. I was servicing sex starved babes. The strange thing is, I don't understand why Laurie did this to me? I was good to her, sent her gifts and wanted her for my special partner. We even had lots in common and it would have been a good deal for both of us. Ther she started sending me lots of nasty messages but she finally calmed down. At least though so, until my bosses fired me from my job."
"Why did they fire you?"
"They said they monitored my work email and found out I was using it for a playground to seduce some of their clients. They told me that was bad for their reputation.
"Then why are you angry at this woman? It wasn't her fault!"
"That what bugs me. I've got a feeling she had something to do with security watching and getting me fired. That's why!"
"But, Lots of's companies monitor their employees, you know that, don't you." The Dr. yawned, his hour almost up.
"I know, but I also just know ... that bitch had something to do with it. I just can't prove. But I know it deep down inside."
"How could be. Tommy?"
` "For one thing as security marched me out the front door, she was out front just standing there. I looked at her and she started to laugh!"
"Did she say anything to you?"
"Yeah, as a matter of fact, she did." She said, "Next time you decide to shaft someone you better be sure to think twice about who you pick!"
"Well, we'll have to get into that more at your next session. Your hour is now up."
Tommy arose, started for the door then turned and looked back at Dr. Jones. "If I ever see her again, Ill get even with her. I can promise you that."
"Bye Tommy, we will talk more about that next time."
The Dr. punched his intercom and asked for the next patient. He wrote on his book, patient is paranoid, schizophrenic, sociopath and obviously a liar.