“When they jumped into the fire,” she read with her finger trailing the words. We both began reading out loud.
“After three claps, they disappeared completely from the desert, never to be seen again. It is one of the earliest signs of moving through time as a means of escaping brutal treatment.”
“This is Sutari,” she said. “You can read it the same as I.”
Three times? Clapping three times to move through time, like the doors? I slowly gasped at the realization when I thought about Ayira standing up to clap two times. If the desert clapped back, that would make it…the third…clap.
“This is the original moving door,” I said, voice barely above a whisper.
“Thewhat?”
“The doors!” I blurted out. “You all created moving through the doors! Jumping from one place to another! It’s no wonder you jumped in your sister’s body! The man from the class! The video! He was probably Solhari like you!”
“What is a moving door? Isis said something about a door, but I do not understand.”
I gripped my hair as I shot up and tapped my chin to think.Come on Maggie girl…you're a smart girl. Come onnnn… Think. They didn’t create the door itself, but they created the idea of moving from one place to another for safety reasons. The Solhari have been living beneath society as the old world for centuries. Of course they would have found a way to escape.
I whipped around to face Ayira, ready to ask her a question when I froze. A single dark wooden door stood just a in the distance from the direction we just came from. It was buried deep within the sand, but the full single frame was obvious, and the gold doorknob glistened against the sun.
“Ayira,” I whispered, feeling my adrenaline kick in. If this was going to be anything like the first time with the girls, I was more than ready. We finally made some headway. Ayira slowly stood up as we stared at the door with our hair blowing towards it with the wind. Suddenly, she took off, bursting into a sprint up the tall sand dune as her shoes continuously slid back down.
“Ayira!” I shouted. “Wait! Just hold on!”
“For what?! Is this not a door?!” She called out over her shoulder. Shit! The damn woman had no brakes on her. I followed behind her, forgetting everything as she grabbed the gold doorknob and whipped it open.
“AYIRA!?” I screamed, watching her body get flung into darkness before the door slammed shut in front of me. I froze with my mind immediately trying not to panic. The door was still here. I could touch it and even smell the fresh wood but when I tried to shakily turn the knob, nothing happened. I looked around, whipped my hair back from my face before banging on it repeatedly. “NO! NO! NO! AYIRA?!”
Looking up at the sky, I could see the faint view of wings spreading across the clouds before disappearing. Closing my eyes, I tried to silently pray for the instincts of an old burglar desperate for a flat screen TV in the living room, and the flexibility of a cat stuck in a tree because I was getting in this damn door if…
Opening my eyes at the sudden sensation, I looked down at my shoes to see the overgrowth of grass beginning to come up. Bright green blades of nature began to stretch as high as my calves. I looked around to see it fold up like hair growing from the scalp instead of the sand. The ground cracked and shook as thick rope like vines began to creep along the door. Covering it completely with weeds and flowers decorating the edges until it was nothing more than a bush. When I turned to look back, wondering if this was spreading, that’s when I saw the house.
A two-story home with a wraparound porch, and painted railing with smoke coming from the chimney above. There were plants hanging down from the porch ceiling in woven baskets, clay pots were filled with overgrowth of plants, and wind chimes made of metal trinkets and shells gently blew sideways in the humid cool air. The house looked as if it was breathing, stretching and settling within the foundation. The screen door gently waved back and forth as if it was telling me to come on in.
“Mmmmm…Nope,” I said before turning back to face the covered door. When I could no longer see the doorknob, I decided to sit. Making myself comfortable on the grass that gently hugged my legs and crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for the door I saw Ayira go through to appear once again. After about 30 minutes of stubbornly sitting there, and ignoring the smell of something buttery being baked, I decided to say fuck it. I got up, brushed the dirt off my sweats and walked towards the house with a determined stride.
“If a weird old man answers by offering you candy, don’t take the candy, Maggie. Don’t you do it,” I said to myself. “Smack him and run for the nearest door inside…If he’s 400lbs your weight, hit him with a brick and run…elsewhere. You got this…It’s cool. You’re the freaking moon. You have powers. You have abilities…”
I stepped onto the wooden steps with my hand touching the freshly painted railing. When I looked back out, it looked like we were in the middle of a field, somewhere in the middle of the US where nothing but farmers and tornados reside. I stepped up to the door, clearing my throat with a nervous ahem, and held the screen back with my hip. Just when I was about to knock, the door suddenly opened as an older woman, very old…Impossibly old with the deep wrinkles, crystal white, blue eyes, thin white hair that barely hung against her neck, and a long cream tunic with beads and jewelry decorating her arms. Her brown skin was about as dark as one gets when they stay in the sun too long, but when she slowly reached out with a trembling hand, I stepped forward.
“I’ve been waiting for you, come in. Shoes off.”
Hesitant, I reached to strip down to my bare feet, leaving my socks tucked in my sneakers without taking my eyes off of her. Grabbing the door frame, I stepped inside the home as my mouth dropped at the sheer size of the tree planted right in the middle of the foyer. It stretched as high as the roof which could have been the canopy of a rainforest but as we walked around towards the kitchen, she motioned for me to sit at the island countertop in one of the stools. Washing her hands, she began to move around her bright kitchen that was filled with herbs, spices, jars, and fresh fruits and veggies laid out on the counter. When she reached her hand out, a vine slithered from the ceiling, reaching down towards her as if it was desperate to be touched by her but instead, she plucked a leaf from it.
“I sent for Anansi and told him I wanted to speak to you alone for a moment.”
“Who?” I asked, watching the vines creep around the walls in their own system of magic. Her voice was shaky and full ofcracks and tremors when she poured two cups of hot liquid from a pot. “Should…should you be holding the pot like that at your age? Do you need help?” I asked. I could hear the old woman chuckle as she placed it back on the stove.
“You askwho,” she murmured, amused. Turning towards the island counter, her hand held the first trembling cup to push towards me.
“I’m sorry…who…who are you?” I asked before looking around.
“I am…Gaia,” she said. My head snapped forward. Did I hear that right? Gaia? The old biddy brought the coffee mug to her lips where the steam was undoubtedly drifting into the air, she took a sip like it was nothing.
“You’re…you…you’re…what everyone is saying I…am…”
She placed her mug down as her face looked up with her eyes fluttering closed as she began to slowly circle the island. Her wrinkled hand began to drag along the granite counter. Her skin slowly pulled back to a youthful supple brown and her white hair grew thick against her backside. She continued to circle around me, smiling as age seemed to be going backwards for her.
“I am…who you are…” She said as her hand came to her neck. The wrinkles slowly seeped back into her skin, tightening its hold while her fangs slowly drew out with an arch of her neck. She continued to circle around me as I watched in awe the different faces she took on.
