The rain tapped against the windows like a pianist's fingers, and a tram somewhere below rang softly: ding, ding. Grandma Hela's flat smelled of yeasty biscuits and warm milk. The cat Donut, round and fluffy like a real donut, lay on the windowsill and purred into the glass. - 'Boring,' sighed Kacper, resting his chin on the table. - 'When's the afternoon tea going to be? - When it stops rising - laughed Grandma Hela. - 'Cake doesn't like a rush. You can help me and then look for the crayons in the desk. They're in the top drawer. Maja nodded her head. She was seven, serious and liked to have a plan. Kacper was six and liked anything that shines, jumps or makes strange sounds. They also both liked Granny Hela, because she always said that ordinary afternoons could produce extraordinary surprises. The top drawer in the desk squeaked like an old boat. Instead of crayons, a small navy blue bag of soft velvet lay on the very top. On a string hung three tiny beads: a star, a moon and a sun. - Oh my! - whispered Maja. - What is it? Kacper, although he was supposed to be helping, was already reaching out with his finger. The bag was warm, as if it had been lying in the sun. Inside rested a pocket watch. It was silver, round and so smooth that you wanted to stroke it. A spiral and a tiny comet were engraved on the lid. - Tick... yes... tick... yes... - said the watch quietly, as if talking in his sleep. Maja carefully pressed the button. The lid opened with a soft click. They saw a cream-coloured dial with thin black numerals. There were also three tiny circles with dashes, and next to them images of a leaf, a kite and a snowflake. The main seconds hand had a tiny star at the end. - Look! - Kacper put his nose so close that he fogged up the glass. - I think these circles are for setting.... seasons. Spring, summer, winter. Maja lifted the lid even higher. On the inside someone had carved the words: "Don't shoot without a plan! - Leon." Just below the writing was a thin line of dates, like a miniature calendar, and a worn-out spot, as if someone had touched one point often. - Who is Leon? - asked Kacper, and curiosity rang in his voice. - 'My dad,' replied Grandma Hela, peering into the room with a spoon in her hand. - 'That watch belonged to your great-grandfather Leon. He always said it led us to where we really wanted to look. But be careful with it. We'll put it away for now, okay? The ravioli are already blushing. - 'Okay,' said Maja, but she already had a million questions in her head. Grandma returned to the kitchen, and a cheerful smell came from the oven. The cat Donut stretched and jumped down from the windowsill. He climbed onto a chair with curiosity and then elegantly, as if he were a conductor, put his paw precisely on the clock. - No! - cried Kacper, but it was all over. The second the soft pad of the cat's paw touched the glass, the second hand vibrated. The star at the end of the pointer blinked. The tick-tock sped up, then slowed down, like a swing that can't make up its mind. - Come back, Donut! - Maja pushed the watch away. - 'You're going to break something else. Donut sat up, wrapped his tail around his paws and pretended he didn't care. But the watch was already awake. In the lamplight the digits glittered like fresh raindrops. Dust particles curled in the air, forming a circular dance. - 'Maybe it's just an old watch,' muttered Maja, although her heart was beating faster. - 'Or maybe...' - Kacper looked at the wall, where a black and white photograph hung. A little girl with pigtails was holding a paper kite. Underneath was written in pencil: "Hela, 18 June 1964". - Or could we see that day? Maja turned to the photo, then back to the dial. She ran her finger over the worn-out spot. She felt as if she were touching a flat pebble from the river - smooth, but with hidden heat. Kacper gently pushed a cog near the tiny numbers. He stopped it at the number eighteen. Then a second, even smaller star found June. A third cog twitched and stopped at a year that someone had written down a long time ago. - 'Don't spin without a plan,' repeated Maja in a whisper. - We have a plan. We want to see what the day looked like when Grandma was seven years old. - Just for a moment,' added Kacper. - We'll take a peek ... and we'll come back. As if on cue, the wall clock sounded from the kitchen: bim, bim. The sound spread through the flat like circles on water. The tick-tock of the great-grandfather clock answered: short but loud. Maja and Kacper sat close together. The watch lay between them, like a small sun. Pod carefully climbed onto the back of the chair and hovered over them like a furry moon. For a while nothing happened, just wet raindrops silently eating away at the world outside the window. And then the little things began. First the pictures on the wallpaper - tiny leaves and twigs - moved, as if the wind had come from inside the wall. The books on the shelf rustled the pages, though no one touched them. The end of the curtain rose like a finger wanting to show something. - Can you feel it? - Maja put her hand on the table. The wood trembled softly, like a cat when it dreams. Kacper nodded. - I can hear... - he listened. Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.... and then: tiiik.... yeah: as if the watch was dragging and making room for something new. A faint glow appeared in the dial, where the star was spinning. The light grew until it resembled a blob of milk that someone had blown and it stretched into a thin line. The line became a slit - very bright, but not the kind that hurts the eyes. Rather like a ray of sunshine peeking under the blanket and saying: hey, here I am. The smell of yeast mixed with another smell: something chalky, a bit like a school blackboard, a bit like freshly plucked sticks. The tram downstairs rang again, but the sound was different, more tinny, like an old bicycle bell. - Was it... - Kacper didn't finish. On the wall, the calendar began to rustle quietly. One by one, the pages turned backwards: September, August, July.... and stop. June. Maja reached for her brother's hand. - Hold me - she said very seriously. - I'm holding you - replied Kacper just as seriously, although there were sparks in his eyes. The gap in the light grew even wider, becoming as wide as a picture frame. Inside, there was no longer just a glow. There was something more: a flicker of sunspots on the grass, a red ball rolling on the ground, the shadow of a kite drawing a triangle in the sky. And a sound - a short, cheerful cry, like a laugh that one has known forever. - Maju... - Kacper whispered, and the whisper tickled their ears. - Can you see it? She saw it. In a luminous frame ran a girl in a pea dress. She had two pigtails and flushed cheeks. She bore a striking resemblance to Grandma Hela, but as young as the morning. In her hand she held a string on which a paper kite was jumping high, high. The girl stopped suddenly, as if she felt someone's gaze on her. She looked straight at Maja and Kacper. She tilted her head, smiled and waved her hand the way one only waves to someone close to them. - Come on! - she called out, and her voice rang out like a bell. The second hand with the star touched a tiny mark on the dial that looked like a star drawn in a hurry. At the same instant, the floor beneath their feet became soft as moss, the curtains fell and....