The Secret Door

The Secret Door

Timothy was eight. His brother Benjamin, seven.

They loved summers at their grandmother’s in the countryside of Wales. How could they not? She had a castle after all, built of stone, with heavy doors. It even had a moat. And while this particular fortress was filled with too much lace and fine art, the brothers often charged the halls crying, “Man the catapults! The dragon is coming!” followed by the clack of wooden swords and an overly-dramatic faked death.

It was a rainy day in July, not so unusual for the south of Britain, and their grandmother was soundly napping. So, Timothy and Benjamin chose a quite game of chess in the main room. “You can’t do that!” Timothy declared, too loudly.

“It’s a fair move,” his brother defended.

“Is not! You can’t take my knight diagonally with a rook!”

“Can too!” Benjamin snatched his brother’s piece away and Timothy was immediately on him.

“Get off!” They grappled, tumbling across the floor into an end table and then pulling a section of rug into their struggle. Before they knew it, both were trapped together like mummies in snug bandages. They burst into laughter, totally pinned and unable to move. Only by rocking back and forth together were they finally able to roll free. Thankfully, the halls were still quiet, their grandmother apparently unaware.

Then, the pair found something they didn’t expect, a previously concealed hatchway in the floor where the rug had been. Timothy and Benjamin marveled at it, wondering how they ever could have missed it - a hidden trapdoor in the ancient castle. Timothy grasped its cast-iron ring.

“What’re you doing?” his brother whispered.

“Finding out what’s down there, of course.”

“Are you crazy? There could be spiders or skeletons…or worse!”

That only peaked Timothy’s curiosity and he gave the handle a tug. The door creaked open, revealing a pitch-black void.

“Gah!” they both jumped when a hand landed upon their shoulders.

“What are you up to?” their grandmother grinned suspiciously.

“Noth…nothing!” Timothy lied.

“It was his idea!” Benjamin accused.

Peering over their shoulders she grinned guiltily. “It’s frighteningly dark. Perhaps a look, then?”

Benjamin hesitated, but his brother declared, “Heck, yeah!” So, she gave them a shove.

They fell and screamed, screamed and fell into a bottomless abyss. All the while, images flashed around them – knights and castles, tanks and jets, even spaceships and other worlds. A monster soared past which might have been a dragon, if not for the antennae and spaceship rocketing after it, laser-bolts blasting away. Behind them, their grandmother fell easily, as if she’d done this a thousand times.

“What is this?” Timothy wondered.

“A museum of sorts. Places we’ve been. Things we’ve seen.”

Their decent eased, slowing to a stop as firelight in a packed catacomb replaced the darkness. They set down gingerly on a rocky floor, surrounded by treasures of every sort – coins and jewels, swords and thrones, ray-guns and rocket-packs.

“Where are we?”

“As I said, a museum…of sorts.”

A polished orb hovered in the center of the chamber, drawing their attention. About the size of a rugby ball, the boys were captivated. Their grandmother gazed closely too, only at her grandsons’ reactions. Timothy asked, “What is it?”

“The future. The past. A new beginning for those with the judgement to use it wisely,” she smirked.

“What does it do?”

“It’s a time machine, a leftover from the end of all things. One day, in the far off future, time will burn out with the universe. But our descendants, rather, our ancestors, have all the time they need. They’ll master it, in fact. Velkaia of Adalendok, the last human alive, will escaped into the past to avoid the nothingness. We’re his lineage.”

“Have you used it?”

She snickered. “Many times!”

“Can we?”

“Someday.”

“Now!” Benjamin reached for it.

“No!” She swiped his hand away. “While the sphere allows travel across time and space, it could destroy both if used without care. Eventually, when you see through more mature eyes, you’ll learn its secrets. Now, it’s time for tea.”

A snap of her fingers and perhaps a hidden switch, the room faded away, becoming the familiar castle, once more. Their grandmother shut the trapdoor, replacing the rug, then looked them squarely in the eyes. “Now, promise me you won’t go looking for trouble?”

Both shook their heads with fingers secretly crossed.

**********

Quietly in the dead of night two little boys cracked opened a hidden door…and their grandmother quickly followed.


(Required elements: judgement, a door, a misunderstanding)