With the new mouth to feed, Clock took it upon himself to accept more contracts. With Night unable to acquire herself a stable job due to her condition and her new dedication to Spark Plug, Clock was the only one bringing in an income. Clock would still oversee Spark's needs though when he was free or Night desperately needed a brake. During the times they spent with Spark, the mother and father quickly realized what kind of child they had sired. Spark wasn't a crier, nor was he a 'problem child'.
He was a spawn of Tartarus.
It was a little over five months until Spark learned how to walk, much to the parents horror. The first day he managed to get around, he somehow undid the lock to his cell. Thinking it was just a fluke, the parents continued to restrain the child within the crib, but to little success. After numerous more successful escapes, the two invested in a better lock system, using steel bolts instead of the basic wooden ones. It lasted only three months before Spark managed to somehow unscrew the lock.
Neither of them knew where he got the screwdriver from.
With Spark no longer bound to his crib, he was free to wander the house. His young mind saw every little thing as the beginning to something grand. Clock's work was tampered with when he wasn't looking, Night's kitchen supplies were occasionally ransacked or would simply go missing and Spark would always try to take his father's tool box. It only got worse when Spark's coordination developed. The parents would find the child in the most unlikely of cubbyholes.
They also found him on the roof once, but neither of them wish to recall that day.
Before long, Spark had his first birthday. A year of chaos and the infant still seemed content to cause as much grief as he possibly could. Due to Spark's curious nature, the parents found it prominent to baby proof the house. Sure, they had taken steps in the past, but most of them were rendered obsolete once Spark knew how to operate them. Instead of bolts this time, Clock invested in locks, honest Celestia damned, numerical locks.
And for once, it actually worked.
Occasionally Clock or Night would find Spark in front of a locked cabinet looking at it with a tilted head. They would always pick him up and tease him about staring too long at a problem, much to the infant's amusement. And yet, he seemed to take the advice to heart. At little more than a year old his random tendencies started to calm down and he focused on other things. It was around this time that he spoke his first words, much sooner than others his age would.
Mommy and Daddy came first, followed by a large assortment of words that spoke volumes of Spark's intellect. Spark had an incredible memory and he used it to his advantage. He would copy the words of others and would appear to think before he spoke, unlike other infants. He might not have know what the words he was saying meant, but the some hundred odd words under his belt was nothing to scoff at.
At age two Spark was able to string together a few words to get his point across. He understood concepts and emotions pertaining to his parents and those who occasionally visited. He realized which strands of words would get him praise, affection, and love. He occasionally stumbled upon one or two words that would leave his parents angry, so he refrained from using them again.
By age four Spark had come far within the short amount of time he'd been on the planet.
By now Spark was capable of full sentences, using both simple and complex words to get his point across. What's more, he actually understood the meaning behind the words he was using. He wouldn't have gotten this far, however, without help from his parents. It was during his third birthday that Night and Clock began to realize what Spark could be capable of. Not wanting to ruin his chances at success, they began his education at an early age. They purchased him books on a number of topics, letting him read and learn at his own pace. While they wanted to promote his education, they both acknowledged the fact that Spark was still a foal, and deserved to enjoy himself.
Spark never got the memo that reading books was something that most fillies and colts didn't consider fun. Spark would read for hours every day, burning though the tomes that his parents bought for him. He read through a number of topics, all ranging from Biology, to Astronomy, to Geology and even the field of Magic.
It was within the book of magic that Spark first learned of what a Cutie Mark was. He read that it was something all ponies would receive once they discovered what their special talent was. When he told his parents of this find, they merely smiled and nodded. Clock and Night simply didn't have the heart to tell him he would never be able to get one.
None of those who knew did.
Ignorant of his disease, Spark would spend the next year searching for his special talent. The book stated that normally older ponies received their mark. He took that statement as a challenge. It was during his experiment phase that he would eventually return to the issues with the locks. Much older and wiser than he was previously, he decided to test his new knowledge in breaking the security within his home.
He found it surprisingly easy to manipulate the metal. A screwdriver, a wrench and fetlock grease was all it took to dismantle the device. With how easy it was to take apart the lock, he started to wonder what else he could mess with.
He was a little over five years old when he took on his biggest project.
Spark Plug sneaked into fathers study, his body tense as he once more entered the forbidden room. He had entered this room in the past before, but his father always ushered him out. Something about not wanting him to ruin his mojo, whatever that meant.
Still, unlike the past times he entered the room simply to get a reaction out of his dad, this time he actually had a purpose. He remembered his father telling him of a special project he'd been working on for quite some time now. He would always go on about how it could be the next big thing in Equestria. The only problem was, he could never get it to work.
Spark remembered his Dad calling it a... "pop-out clock".
He looked around the room, taking in the numerous clocks that hung up on the wall. According to his father, most of them ran on magic, and he was responsible for assembling them. If Spark remembered correctly, however, the clock he was looking for ran on both magic and machinery.
Machine: an apparatus using or applying mechanical power and having several parts, each with a definite function and together performing a particular task.
Spark giggled as he recalled the definition of the word; there were a lot of words similar to that one which he liked. A shame that there weren't a lot of books on it.
He entered the room and gently shut the door behind him. His Dad might be at work right now, but his Mom was downstairs cleaning. The last thing he needed was for her to find him up here.
He tiptoed into the room and made his way to the work desk, jumping up onto the stationed chair to see what lay before. There in front of him on the table was a wooden clock. It was currently facing him and he was able to admire the beautiful ornate designs his father had etched into the surface. During his inspection he noticed a small latch just above the face, reminding him of why he was here in the first place.
With gentle hooves, he carefully turned the clock until it was facing away from him. The back was already open and he could see the number of gears which filled the carved out section. He followed the paths of the gears with his eyes, murmuring to himself as he looked over his father's work. There was something... wrong about it. He couldn't explain it, but some of the gears seemed to be in the wrong position. With the way it was set up now, it would never work.
Spark Plug smiled as he reached for his fathers toolbox. He believed he knew how to fix the problem, and thought it would be a great gift for his father.
He opened the toolbox and removed the necessary tools. He had a lot of work ahead of him.
Clock Work opened the door to his home, the sunset behind him illuminating the entry way. He gently closed the door and released a sigh of tension.
Things had been rough for him at the store lately. His sales have been slowly decreasing over time, and at the rate it was going he would be financially in trouble within two years tops. Ponies simply didn't want to pay more for ornate clocks, instead paying less for cheap knockoffs that other craftsponies could pump out much faster than him.
He walked into the kitchen and found his wife cooking dinner, humming to herself all the while. Clock smiled and announced his presence, "I'm home, dear."
Night stopped to turn and give her husband a warm smile. "Welcome home. How was work today?"
Clock sighed once more, giving more than enough for Night to work off of.
"It's still bad, isn't it?" Night asked worryingly.
Clock nodded and seated himself at the kitchen table. "It is, and I'm at a loss as to what I can, or should do. I'm thinking I'll sell my business by the end of the year and look for work elsewhere."
Night's eyes widened in surprise. "Sell your business!? But Clock, it's what you're good at, what you love to do."
Clock smiled sadly. "True, but the love of my trade pales when it comes to you and Spark. If I need to give that up in order for us to live comfortable, than I will."
Night left the stove and made her way towards Clock. She guided his head towards her with a wing and planted a kiss on his lips, letting the contact remain for a few seconds before breaking away. "I'm lucky to have met a loving stallion like you, and Spark is lucky to have you as a father."
Clock smiled warmly at his wife before a thought passed through his mind. "Speaking of Spark, where is he? Usually I can hear whatever he's up to when I walk through the door. The kid doesn't really understand the meaning of subtlety."
Night frowned in confusion at the question. Confusion soon morphed into horror and her eyes widened in alarm. "I-I haven't seen or heard of him all day! I've been busy cleaning up the house I must have let the time slip from me!"
Clock groaned as he got off the chair and made his way upstairs. If Night didn't know where Spark was, than the rascal could be anywhere within the house. Still, if he knew his son, the demon would be where he was told not to go. With that thought in mind, Clock made his way towards his study. When he opened the door his assumption was proven correct.
Spark Plug was leaning over his desk and had a screwdriver in his hoof. His tongue was poking out of the corner of his mouth as he tinkered with the device in front of him. Much to Clock's horror, the device Spark was messing with just so happened to be his special project, his last chance to save his dying business.
Clock found his rage growing as he watched his son place the screwdriver in his toolbox, closing the lid. The colt looked pleased with himself as he closed the back door of the clock. It would seem he was finished with whatever he had planned.
Clock cleared his throat and got his son's attention. The colt in question froze at the sound and he slowly turned in his seat until he was facing his red faced father. Spark's ears flattened against the back of his head in worry as he looked at the ground.
"H-Hi Dad."
Clock spoke through gritted teeth, "Spark, what have I told you about coming into this room."
Spark winced at the reminder and the clear anger his father was holding back. "Y-You said to not come in here..."
Clock nodded. "I did, and yet time and time again you find it necessary to do so. Not only that, but this time you actually messed with my work. I've been working on that project for years now, and you know how much it means to me."
Spark nodded rapidly, his body trembling as he spoke, "I-I know. I... I just wanted to help."
Most of Clock's anger evaporated as Spark explained the reasoning behind his actions. Clock once more found himself sighing, wondering what he would do now with his project ruined. He was tired and out of options, but he would not blame his son for it.
Most of it, anyway.
Clock moved to the side of the door as he looked to his son, his hoof pointed out the entryway. "Spark, go to your room and stay there. You deliberately entered this room when I've told you not to and have continued to do so in the past. You can come down for dinner in twenty minutes, but right after that you're going to wash up and go to bed. I want you to think about what you've done."
Spark sniffed as he hopped off the chair and made his way towards his room, head hung low. Clock shook his head in disappointment as he closed the door behind Spark, leaving him alone.
His attention returned to his project, the clock now facing forwards like he had left it before. He moved to the desk and sat himself in the chair, looking at his life's work. He had made good progress on the clock, but he could never figure out how to get it to fully operate. After Spark's interference, he had no doubt he would have to start from scratch, and he didn't have the time to do so. With a delicate hoof he reached around to the back and turned a small crank. When turned, the clock would set with the time and would release a small jingle, as well as open the front compartment to allow something small to exit the clock. It would then retreat back into the clock and would remain silent until the next hour hit.
Expecting little to happen, Clock was amazed when he heard a small chime come from the clock. Soon after the front hatch above the clock's face opened up, and a plank extended outward towards him. It remained that way for several seconds before retreating inwards, waiting for the next hour mark.
Clock's eyes were wide and his jaw had dropped during the event.
Spark had fixed his life's project.
Several days had passed since Clock learned of what Spark had done. In that time he locked himself in his study, only coming out for dinner. Night and Spark were worried at first something was wrong, but Clock would never show any signs of unease. When the two saw him, he would always be smiling and was easy to excite, leaving them both confused.
It was one day that Clock finally emerged from his study in victory. He had finally finished his project and had completed all of the additional parts it needed. Now, when the hatch opened, instead of a bare plank, a small, wooden pony would stand on the end, waving to whoever was watching it at the time.
immediately after he finished the clock, he visited the artisan guild in Canterlot. The masters there loved his work, and found the time piece to be an exceptional way to bring back well made, and classic woodwork clocks. Many of those same masters and high end craftsponies fought one another to purchase the rights to make and sell the dubbed 'cuckoo clock'. Clock eventually sold the design to the highest bidder and one who specialized in wood products. He received a generous amount of bits up front and would further receive a weekly stipend based on how many were sold while on the market.
His family fortune, and his business, had been saved.
Spark Plug warily left his room and trotted down the stairs to the living room. It had been a week since the day he'd been grounded, and every day he felt awful for what he had done. It was no doubt his fault that his father now locked himself in his study, leaving only to eat and sleep. To make matters worse, his father suddenly left, and didn't say where he was going.
Spark had cried himself to sleep that night, believing he had had pushed his father away from him and his mother. When he asked her about it, she only smiled and laughed, leaving him confused and even more upset.
Upset until he learned why his Dad left for the city.
When he returned a few days later, Spark noticed how giddy his father was, even to him. He'd been baffled when one of the first things he did upon coming home was give both his mother and himself kisses. When he questioned his father about his antics, he was told everything, including the part where he fixed the clock.
Spark Plug was overjoyed to hear that the clock had worked, but he was still wary of his father. He would look at him now with a mischievous smile, one that set him on edge. When he had been told this morning that his mother and father had an announcement for him, he figured he would finally know what they had in store for him.
As he entered the living room he saw both of his parents seated next to each other on the couch. His mother patted an open spot between them, asking for him to join. After he got comfortable on the sofa, he looked to his parents in confusion, noticing the wide smiles they were giving him. It wasn't long until their idea was pitched to him, and it brought him no small amount of horror.
Tomorrow would be the first day of Kindergarten...
... and he would be attending this year.