Wayne Batson - The Door Within

Aidan plunked down on an enormous moss-covered rock and untied the leather lace. It was his third scroll, the one with the poem and the empty pages. He looked down at the bottom below the poem and hoped desperately for something new to be there.

There was, but it wasn’t mysterious new text telling Aidan what to do or where to go. It was a handwritten note. It read, “Thought you might need these. Love, Grampin.”

Grampin! How could he…? Aidan smiled and shook his head. It seemed that Grampin was full of surprises. Now, if only I had a map.

Aidan felt a sharp tingle in his right hand. Instinctively he turned to the next page of parchment. And then his jaw dropped. As if invisible hands were busy sketching away, an incredibly detailed map gradually emerged from the parchment. Etched and shaded mountains formed on the page under a sun whose rays became directional arrows pointing north, south, east, and west. Forests surrounded and penetrated by roads and trails dotted the new map in a patchwork of gray splotches. Flags appeared in many places on the map.

The flags were puzzling. Could they be foreign countries or cities? Are they borders of some kind?

He decided that, whatever they were, he would set out toward one of them and see for himself. The only landmark he could identify from the map was the dark mountain range. There was a patch of forest just west of those mountains. One of the flags was on the other side of the range. It looked like the closest flag. Aidan guessed that if he could get over or around the mountain range, he could see what one of the flags was.

Feeling satisfied with his deductions, Aidan began his quest for the flag. He ducked under the boughs of a twisty tree and stepped over the black roots of the shiny eightball trees. He plowed through a row of everpurples, wondering what Robby would think of all this. Their adventures in Maryland had mostly been exploring the woods behind the high school and crayfishing in Brae Brooke Creek. Aidan wished that Robby could be with him now to experience, well, to experience a real adventure.

Aidan gasped, dropped his bundle of scrolls, and froze in place. A unicorn stood just a few feet away. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

A single ivory horn that spiraled out of the creature’s forehead distinguished it from a horse. Its coat was not really any color by itself, but many colors mixed in with white-like an opal in the sunlight. A real unicorn!

Aidan’s heart pounded in his chest as the noble steed approached him, bobbing its head in a friendly way. Timidly, Aidan reached out and patted the beautiful creature on its nose. It felt smooth like velvet. Aidan grinned and stared as if in a trance. The unicorn ducked its head toward Aidan’s feet. Aidan looked down, saw his scroll bundle, and remembered his quest for the flag.

Reluctantly, Aidan picked up the scroll and walked away. To his surprise, the unicorn followed.

“I’ve been here less than a day, and I already have more friends than I did in Colorado!” Aidan said to the unicorn. Aidan jogged at first, and the unicorn trotted along with him. Then, as the trees thinned and the ground began to rise into foothills, they slowed to a walk. The beautiful trees and plants became less and less plentiful as Aidan’s climb steepened. Brambles and bracken and scraggly thin shrubs replaced the trees, and a moldy form of gray moss covered everything underfoot. At that point, the unicorn stopped.

“C’mon, Girl,” Aidan called. He wasn’t sure, but it just seemed like a girl. “You can make it!” The unicorn blinked at Aidan and shook its head. Could it possibly understand?

“Please come with me,” Aidan pleaded. “I’ll be lonely without you.” Again, the beautiful unicorn shook its head. Nothing Aidan said could coax it-the unicorn simply refused to go even a step farther up the mountain.

“Fine, then!” Aidan shouted indignantly. “I’ll go by myself!” The unicorn shook its head again, whinnied twice, stamped one hoof on the ground, then galloped away. Frustrated and saddened at the loss of his companion, Aidan turned and continued toward the dark mountains.

After climbing for a stretch, Aidan began to think that maybe the unicorn was smarter than he was! The climb grew steep, and the footing became more uneven. The vile moss began to die out, giving way to crumbly stone.

How many times have I slipped? Aidan wondered. He looked at the collection of scrapes and scratches on his arms and felt bruises forming on his knees.

For the millionth time, Aidan wished he was thin and athletic like Robby. His all-sports-star friend would probably jog up the mountain, but not Aidan. No, his feet felt heavy, like cinder blocks, and his breath came out in pants. He felt hot and cold. Hot from the exertion. Cold because the air became brisk as he climbed. To top it off, Aidan’s stomach grumbled. He was starving, and his head hurt. No, the adventure was not going as he had hoped.

The higher he climbed, the more he felt exposed. It felt as if there were millions of tiny eyes watching him clambering clumsily up the mountainside.

Even the mountain seemed to be against Aidan. Again and again, Aidan reached the edge of what he thought was a ridge he could get over and start climbing down, only to realize he still had to climb higher.

After what seemed like hours of back-and-forth climbing, Aidan made an all-out sprint toward a distant notch on the left peak. But it turned out to be just a plateau. And even worse, it looked like there was no way to continue up from there. The mountain rose up before him in a sheer face of stone-as if to say: “GO AWAY! IT’S NOT SAFE HERE!”

Aidan slumped down, his back to the mountain. The headache of hunger and fatigue continued its dull thudding while Aidan considered his options. He could either climb back down a bit to search for another way up, or he could edge along a narrow ridge looking for a spot more level to climb. Aidan opened the scroll once again-this time to the page after the map-but it was still blank. He rolled up the scroll, tied it, and let it roll off his hand to lie at his feet.

The moment he sat down, the sweat he had generated climbing turned icy, and Aidan shivered.

What’ll I do? he thought, looking up as the sun sank behind the clouds in the distance. Here he was, high above the trees on the edge of a dreary mountain in a world no one knew existed.

He wondered what his parents would do when they came home and found him gone. What could Grampin say to them?

“Dad, have you seen Aidan?” Mr. Thomas would ask.

“Well, yes, actually,” Grampin would reply. “Y’see, he believed in The Story, entered The Door Within, and ended up in The Realm.”

Aidan laughed through chattering teeth. They wouldn’t believe him if he told the truth. Perhaps, Aidan thought, I could bring home some proof-to show them once and for all that it is all real!

Aidan’s eyes grew wide as it occurred to him that the scrolls had helped him get into this realm, but they never mentioned getting back out.

It wasn’t at all like some of the stories Aidan had read. Stories where kids had run away without a care to strange new worlds. Stories where the characters never worried about food or where to go to the bathroom! Aidan trembled and hugged himself, for he was cold, afraid, achy, and hungry.

As the deep purple of night began to creep across the sky, Aidan succumbed to sleep. The temperature on the mountainside dropped even more during the night, so Aidan curled up, tucking the scroll under his arm like his old down pillow, and huddled close to the face of the mountain. Aidan’s eyes raced beneath his eyelids while he dreamed. Visions of his basement back in Colorado Springs paraded through his mind. He was there again, staring at the alcove beneath the basement stairs, listening to the strange scraping sound he had heard before the clay pots appeared.