《Our House》


 Part 1 - Entrances

    Our House


    Part 1 - Entrances


    It had been three weeks since my mother died and one week since my dad moved into an assisted living manor due to advancing dementia. The family home was my responsibility now. I had good, older memories there.


    When I was a little boy, I could remember riding atop my medium-sized, battery-powered toy train. I laid the tracks in the den and up the steps and around into the hallway. The darkness of the hall with the lights off made it like a tunnel. Then the train moved down to the living room and off to my bedroom. After a certain age, I was too big to ride, so I would put my toys and stuffed animals atop it and play conductor.


    It was a beautiful time. My mother was a life-long head librarian for the county system and my father edited reference texts, so there was no shortage of books about the house. Sadly, neither of my parents had the mind or eyes to read for the last years of their life, they just slept in front of the television.


    I was a happy child but routinely sickly. Not that it matters much though. A day home from school meant another day on the railroad or reading about strange elevators from other countries in a random Time-Life book series.


    After a time, my mind shifted away from books, though I always looked on the shelves with a smile. The train went into the garage, along with all the other old toys. And I moved on. I worked hard in school, made some close friends, and passed all my classes. When I moved away, I stayed close and sometimes came by to dust up and look over all the old things.


    Eventually, I returned long-term when mom got sick. I got a job nearby and spent most of my time caring for her. She lingered longer than I expected with quiet, sobbing aches. She died in her sleep with me reading from her favorite book.


    At the library, they left a small plaque on her desk and used the money donated from her will to add many new children''s books.


    My dad would just make eggs over and over and cry when mom was sick. Then, he''d lean back in his couch and sleep till it was time to go to bed. He moved out without protest.


    I returned to the home on a Tuesday. It was cool for summer, with a gentle breeze. In the hallway, I could taste the air. It was a little humid with warm spots here and there. I turned the air conditioner on to help circulate it. The walls gave a little kick when it turned on. A flash of dust gave way to a pleasant sheet of air. I told myself I''d probably need to clean out the central unit before I was done.


    I brought a package of trash bags, plenty of disinfectant, and sponges. I was ready to clean. I hoped that I might be able to sell it eventually, but that was a long-term concern. This was just to make it nice, like it was when I was young.


    I first took to going through my oldest jackets in the hallway. I put mom''s aside to be donated. I coughed a lot, so I left the windows open.


    The deepest nooks and recesses of the house were filled with items barely remembered and long hidden. Old chess sets. A book series which looked like calculus to a child. Long forgotten artwork. All punctuated by suddenly-disturbed spiders which dashed out of sight.


    I dug through one of the side closets till I managed to find the back of it behind decades-old winter coats. As my hand pushed them aside, I felt something shift, like the back wall was loose. With some pushing, I cleared a path. The back of the closet was actually a door. It looked old, with cobwebs bridging the creases like threadbare stuffing. The knob was stiff but just like all the others in the house.


    Curious, I cleared enough around the door to open it. There was no expected creak. I opened the door to piles of boxes and semi-organized clothes. I soon realized that I''d found a side opening to the small closet in the spare bedroom.


    It made sense. This closet was very near to the other one. Closing the door behind me, I smiled as it sealed with just a small seam in the wall. A disguised door. To look at it, one would suspect it was a flaw in the wall rather than a hidden door. There was no knob on this side but, if I reached in through the crease, the latch easily popped out. I looked back through the door with a smile and laughed. I closed it and continued through the spare bedroom.


    As I went back to work, I considered what possible uses that might have. I imagined the original builder had a love of oddities like in the mythic Winchester house, but I didn''t dwell on it.


    After scrubbing the sofa and gently vacuuming it, I went past the main hall and over to the four doors of the bedrooms and bathrooms. After considering changing the dim overhead light, I looked around. Something was off.


    I counted.


    One.


    Two.


    Three.


    Four.


    Fivedoors.


    I rubbed at my eyes and figured I must''ve counted one twice. Still, that was an awfully low number to mess up. I counted several times and each time there were five doors. One, I remembered as my old bedroom. Then the spare bedroom. The main bathroom. The master bed and bath. But the last door was between the last two, right next to the old, silver-trim portrait of my great-grandparents. It looked just the same as all the other doors in the house and had the same knob.


    I approached the door and felt my neck get clammy. I''d been around a lot the last few years and I would remember if dad or anyone else had added to the house. I took a breath. I didn''t really want to open it, but I stretched my hand out and wrapped it around the knob.


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    I could tell immediately it wasn''t a false door. I opened it slowly and peered through. The room on the other side was small, about the same size as the bathroom. It had a wicker couch to one side and a shelf of books on the other. Light showed through a window at the end. The floor had the same thick carpeting as the rest of the house. There were a few stains here and there, but the room looked nice. Definitely a pleasant little room to sit in and read. Only there was no way this room could be here.


    I leaned back out the door and looked around. I poked myself and wondered if I was having a waking hallucination.


    For a hallucination, it was doggedly persistent. I walked around the new room and tested everything out. The books were ones I''d seen in passing at stores. With a sigh, I grabbed one and sat down on the couch. It creaked a little but was comfortable. I read for a while and flashed my eyes around for any sign the room was suddenly vanishing. I stayed for about half-an-hour without anything odd.


    Shrugging to myself, I returned to my work and moved to the master bedroom. I dropped my vacuum and gasped.


    Next to the window leading to the back porch, in place of the dresser, was another new door. A sliding glass one. The only sliding doors were the one behind the kitchen and the one over by the carport.


    Taking a breath, I peered through the new door. The view of the back porch was different. Previously there had been an overhang with some worn, brown columns supporting it. The only fancy bits were an old picnic table which hadn''t been used in decades, now covered in random gardening tools, bags of birdseed, and a broken exercise bike.


    Now, the view was entirely different. The pavement was carpeted. There were nice lawn chairs. The area was covered in a light kind of wood. The ceiling was all glass and slanted with the roof.


    I stepped in and felt a chill blast of air. There was a small cooling unit towards the middle. I gawked at it all. It seemed like something my parents might''ve mentioned in passing as an idle project, but I never expected to see it for myself.


    Past the lawn chairs was a much nicer couch as well as a fancy TV unit. I gasped as the video games and systems I sometimes pined for as a kid sat beside fancy rows of graphic novels. It felt like it was made for me. I had to sit down for a moment.


    I let the air pass over and wondered if I''d passed out, tired from cleaning, into this strange dream. No level of realization or effort seemed able to wake me, so I just relaxed. This wasn''t a bad dream, so I would just follow it as far as it let me go.


    There were a few exercise mats at the other end of the enclosed patio along with the picnic table arrange more for dining. I laughed to myself at how nicely kept everything was. I considered the two doors at the end. One was the sliding door I knew about. The other was in the same place as the door to the adjacent garage.


    Looking inside, I laughed with delight. The garage was absolutely unrecognizable. Before, it was a place where all our extra stuff was stashed. Dozens of my toys as a child. Worn furniture. Bag-covered oddities and sports tables. Now, it was designed like a guest house. There was even a little pit in the middle with bean bag chairs. I marveled at it all and soon realized there were steps leading up. I took them.


    The upstairs was a small loft with a bed and kitchen area. At the far end, there was a small hallway leading out of sight. I followed it. I walked past where the roof of the house should''ve been. The hallway was nicely adorned with family photos I remembered from long-buried albums, presented in fancy frames. The hallway continued almost as far as the one at the front of the house. A small bar area adorned a side.


    After considering a drink, I continued till I came to a spiral staircase which took me up higher. On the next floor, I stopped with my mouth open and gazed at what was before me.


    I could see a large area, bigger than the whole house, and in the middle of it was a train. It was much fancier than the one I''d had as a kid. It looked more like the scaled-down ones at amusement parks. The rest of the area was designed like a small train station with a wooden platform and signs showing locations. I smiled as I read them. They looked like silly fictional places I may have dreamed up when I was young.


    Looking down the tracks on the floor, the path curved around corners and out of sight at both ends. I marveled at the bit of fog which filled the room. I could see fog machines hidden behind the main station platform.


    I sat in the conductor''s seat on the train and looked over the controls. They were surprisingly simple and similar to the ones on my old train. There was a bar for the engine and a bar to push forward or backwards to move. Opening the windows, I giggled to myself. The engine started slowly, steam building up. Great puffs of smoke swirled around. I soon found the horn. It tooted out as I smiled. This made absolutely no sense, but it was wonderful.


    For effect, I yelled, "Alllll aboooard!" There were, of course, no other passengers. I slowly pushed on the bar and the train began to lurch forward. I tested pulling it back and the train gave another lurch to stop and began reversing before I set it back to advance.


    I looked out the window as the train began to pick up speed. The room ahead was dimly-lit, like a dark house ride at a carnival. The fog billowed as the train pushed along. Past the corner, I could see small lights in the distance. Plants lined the hallway, which soon opened to a large area with those little lights. As my eyes adjusted, I could see more than just the lights. The entire room had been made up like a tiny town.

 Our House: Part 2 - Maggie Makes Two

    Our House


    Part 2 - Maggie Makes Two


    There were hills clad in Astroturf with pebbles for rocks. Little houses with ornate, dark roofs. There were tall churches, elaborate stores, and extensive farms. It was like something I''d once seen at a fair, only I was driving a train through it. If I didn''t look down at the wheels, I could almost imagine the train was flying high in the air. A cool breeze from a hidden overhead vent helped sell this illusion.


    As the train traveled in a snaking pattern across the room, a dim light showed on the wall horizon. It washed everything in a reddish tint. I watched as an overhead light blinked on and became a bright morning. Little automated bits of the scenery drew cars along the tiny roads. They contained little figures going off to work. I gawked at little factories puffing to life.


    The whole cycle of the day passed before me as dusk fell and I made my way out of the room. The next curve led me into a tunnel that climbed up and up. Painted rocks lined the path, and my train chugged its way up slowly. A stronger breeze blew from overhead as the train crested the rise and hurried down the other end. I blew the horn for fun as it pulled into another station.


    My eyes widened as I realized someone was waiting at one of the benches. I slowed the train to a stop right in front and stepped out.


    She wore a thin pair of red-tinted glasses and looked at me with a slight smile. She was dressed in gray denim jeans and a collared blue top. She was a good deal shorter than me with a rounded face, pronounced nose, and narrow hands. Her hair was long, draped across her back and the same color of dark brown as mine. I eyed her and she eyed me in turn with her hands in her lap.


    Her expression was flat but her mouth twisted in place before forming a slight smirk as she said, "Hello, Andy."


    I froze and naturally asked her how she knew my name.


    She scuffed her sneakers on the wooden floor of the train station. "Well, I didn''t know, but I figured it was a good guess. But then we''ve never met¡­well, at least I''ve never met this version of you¡­.That probably sounded confusing¡­"


    I could only nod, which made her giggle and stand up.


    She walked around me and asked, "So how did you get here?"


    I explained stepping through the door in the closet, then finding the extra door, as well as everything that followed. She didn''t look the least surprised.


    She explained. "First of all, you can call me Maggie Thornhale¡­which is my name. And you are Andrew Thornhale¡­my brother."


    I raised my eyebrows as she continued, "I am the younger sister you may not have had in your reality. I was named for mom, naturally. So Maggie isn''t my¡­ full name, but I really prefer Maggie. There are realities where you, as my older sister, got that name instead."


    My mouth hung open a little as she folded her arms and asked, "Going too fast?"


    I tried a smile. "It''s all a bit much. I''m not even sure if I''m dreaming this."


    She raised her eyebrows. "That is a problem. But there is something I could do about that¡­shall I?"


    I shrugged and agreed. She told me to shut my eyes. I did so. I waited and suddenly received a stinging slap across the face.


    Jerking my eyes open, I rubbed the sore spot. It stung!


    With a glare, I asked her, "Why did you do that?!"


    She held her hands out innocently. "You gave me the okay¡­actually, I just wanted to do that without consequences¡­hehe."


    I narrowed my eyes and muttered, "You must be my sister¡­"


    Maggie stuck out her tongue and said, "Yup! Well, you never had a sister. But here I am anyway."


    Still rubbing my tender cheek, I asked, "How? What is all this¡­if it''s not just a dream?"


    She brushed her hands on her knees. "Well, firstly, it''s definitely not a dream¡­unless I''m having the world''s longest dream. And, just so you know this before you ask, I am not a figment of your imagination¡­"


    I held a hand out in front of my cheek. "Yeah, you convinced me there."


    She brushed at her hair but couldn''t hold back her amusement. "So, with that settled, I can tell you what I''ve figured out. This is the inside of the house. The Thornhale family house. Many versions of it. And I actually came to enter it in much the same way you did. I found an extra closet door inside the laundry room, hidden behind a pile of junk. It led first to a closet in the living room which hadn''t been there before. Then a greenhouse. And, coolest of all, I actually found a door to a supermarket beyond that."


    We sat down, and she continued. She said the supermarket was empty except for her and the people who apparently worked there. They came and went. She could buy anything in it with anything from other parts of the house. An old, broken clock for a bag of apples. Last week''s newspaper for a box of pasta. They never took money, but some items were worth more than others.


    I thumbed my chin as she off-handedly mentioned there was a toy store as well. I asked her, "And how do you get out of the house?"


    She leaned back and scratched at her cheek. "That''s a little complicated. You can trace your route back to your starting point but sometimes that path can shift. The house will sometimes change based on what you''re thinking about. Also, you can try leaving through an outside door. Sometimes they just lead to Annexes, parts of the house that just look like outside."


    I frowned lightly. She raised a finger. "But! When you get to those places, all you need to do is sleep. I''ve tried this before. You sleep on the faux outside lawn under the pretend stars. When you wake up, you''re actually outside, on real lawn and looking at the real sky. I''ve gotten out that way several times. And I can always get back in the same way. Makes returning to the house supermarket quite easy."


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    I felt relief knowing that. Maggie took the opportunity to frown. "But why would you want to leave so quickly when there''s so much house to see? It''s absolutely amazing. I think it might be endless. I always find new doors. Just found a seafood restaurant a few doors away. They take spare buttons for payment. Which is great because of a nearby sewing room." She giggled to herself, hopped out of her seat, and invited me to follow her. Naturally, I did.


    The next door was on the other side of the station. It led up some stairs and to a room with many musical instruments. The floor was polished wood. Maggie twirled and noted, "I''ve always wanted to take a dance class. Never got the chance before." She dipped and swayed with her arms out and lifted her leg.


    After a while, she stopped and gave a grin. "I''m not very good, but I''ll keep at it." The piano was the centerpiece of the room. I played "Chopsticks", badly, and told her, "I thought about a piano class. Never took one either."


    She scampered over to a large tuba resting in a rack, took a huge breath, and blew a note which sounded like the anguished mating cry of a walrus. I went over to a kettle drum and banged out a thunderstorm. We made chaotic noise for a while then tried the next door.


    It was actually a slide with steps along the side to get back up and a pile of cloth cushions to ride down. We raced each other to a tie. At the foot of the slide, Maggie led me into the seafood restaurant she''d mentioned. Pulling a pile of buttons from her pocket, she said, "Let the feast begin!"


    The restaurant was small, with a few white-clothed tables. The walls were ocean blue with slow fans turning on the ceiling.


    There were five others in the restaurant, and they all seemed to work here. Our server was a very short, blond lady with her hair tied back in a ponytail. Her clothes were crisp white with a black apron around her waist. The name on her pocket was "Nonami" with the handwritten words, "Thornhale House Seafood Bonanza" underneath. I also saw a busboy with short, spiky-red hair and the same outfit. A trio of chefs occasionally showed their arms from behind a windowed wall.


    Maggie watched me with her hands folded on the table.


    Nonami smiled and looked between us as she asked, "Are you ready to order? I can get your drinks first."


    I looked up at her and asked, "You work here?"


    She gave a polite little laugh and said, "Yes, sir. Do you want anything to drink?"


    I just asked for a glass of water. Maggie asked for hot tea. The server hurried out of sight. Maggie leaned over the table and told me, "This is gonna be cool. Just wait¡­"


    Curious, I waited. Nonami returned quickly. Or rather, what seemed to be Nonami returned. She was tall now, taller than me, with short brown hair frosted with blond highlights. The name on her pocket was still ''Nonami'' but the words under that now said, "Thornhale Seafood ¨C See What I Mean, Andy?"


    Nonami put our drinks on the table with coasters underneath and clasped her hands.


    "Would you like to start with an appetizer?"


    It was then that I realized we hadn''t been given menus. I asked her about that, and she blinked at me curiously before saying, "There''s really no need for that. We can make just about anything. Just ask for it."


    Maggie leaned back with a wide grin on her face. I put a hand to my chin. There were plenty of dishes that came to mind.


    "Fried oysters?"


    "We can do them deep-fried, pan-fried, stir-fried or any way fried with any kind of sauce."


    "Octopus stew?"


    "We have at least twenty varieties of broth."


    "Pasta with seafood?"


    "Over ninety-types of pasta and whatever kind of sauce you might like."


    I tried to stump her but she always had an easy response.


    Then, I had an idea.


    I thought back to a family trip by the ocean. We ate at a small place on the wharf. I had a seafood dinner that was unlike any before or since. It wasn''t too rich. The flavors were just right. The only shame was that the place closed soon after.


    Looking at Nonami, I asked, "I''m thinking of an entr¨¦e. Can you make it?"


    She smiled at me and nodded. "Of course, sir. We have all the ingredients needed. It won''t take long. Would you like anything to go with that?"


    I just looked at her with my mouth open. Eventually, Maggie said, "I think he''ll be fine with that. I''ll have that too."


    Nonami nodded. She was about to leave when Maggie added, "Oh and could you leave for a minute and then return. I''d like my brother to try something." She readily agreed.


    When she was away, Maggie said, "You saw me change her¡­you should give it a try. Just imagine her any way. Well, almost any way. Remember, I''m not afraid to kick you in the shin if you try something perverted."


    Of course, I immediately envisioned something just like that. But I cleared that from my mind and tried again. It took me a moment.


    When Nonami returned, she was a five-year-old girl with long, curly-orange hair wearing a white dress and a black, lacy apron.


    She asked in a small, cute voice, "Is this okay?"


    It was Maggie''s turn for surprise. She nodded and said, "That''s fine." With that, Nonami skipped back to the kitchen.


    Maggie was silent for a bit before saying, "Well¡­I didn''t suspect that. So, you''re either far stranger than I figured, or I have an adorable brother."

 Our House: Part 3 - The Switchboard

    Our House


    Part 3 - The Switchboard


    I gave her a look and explained, "I just tried to think of something very different."


    She smirked. "Sure you did, big brother-sister."


    I folded my arms and stuck out my tongue. "Liking cuteness doesn''t make me girly."


    Raising a finger aloft, she announced, "Of course. But the house does have something to make you girly¡­if you swing that way. It''s called the Switchboard! Well, I just call it that, but it has a sign with that name now."


    I fidgeted in my seat and told her, "That might be a bit much for me. I mean¡­uh. It''s an interesting idea."


    Maggie put her hand on her chin and invited me, "Go on¡­I mean I have met brother/sister versions who are gay¡­.transgendered, and other."


    That actually made me a little more nervous. I took a breath and explained to her as best I could.


    "It''s not like that. I''m not gay. I don''t feel like I have to be another gender. I just¡­there''s just so many other ways I can imagine myself. That I have imagined myself since I was young." I gave her a shrug.


    Maggie bent her arms down. Her smile faded. "You''re right. I''m sorry. Still, you should check out the Switchboard. It''s neat."


    I hesitantly promised her I would as Nonami puttered around. Looking back, Maggie put on a fresh grin. I watched carefully. The busboy and one of the cooks came around the corner. They were now identical twin little girls of Nonami in different outfits. I raised my eyebrows at her and left them that way. None seemed bothered.


    It didn''t take long for our meals to arrive with little girl Nonami hauling them with all the strength she had. It was just as good as I remembered. I found myself eating eagerly. I was planning to break for a meal soon after I finished cleaning the bedroom anyway. Nonami lingered nearby and looked pleased that I was enjoying it. Maggie ate eagerly as well.


    When we were done, Maggie paid in a handful of buttons. Nonami looked down at them in surprise and cautiously said, "Umm¡­this is a bit too much. It''s only a button each for the meal." Maggie sipped from her tea and told her, "Consider it a tip."


    Nonami''s eyes were so wide. She smiled, hugged the buttons, and expressed her gratitude, saying, "If you need anything else, just ask. On the house."


    Maggie wore a look of amusement. It took me a moment to realize why.


    We waited but ultimately didn''t order anything else. We did watch Nonami twirl around like she''d just won the lottery.


    Before we left, I made Nonami and her twins a little bit older, just so they wouldn''t have any trouble doing their jobs. Although, I wasn''t sure what other customers they might have. Probably alternate versions of us.


    We took a door at the back of the restaurant. It led to a room with a floor made entirely of a bouncy material. The walls were softly padded. We bounced around until protests issued from our full stomachs.


    The next room was made of plush like a gigantic bed. We stopped for a bit to lie down. Or, in the case of Maggie, roll around the entire room.


    It wasn''t long after dens and silvery kitchens that we came upon a bookstore room familiar to Maggie. I wanted to stay and marvel at the books. She looked around the room, which was about the size of the regular house with long, dense rows, and assured me, "This is one of the smaller ones. Believe me, I''ve seen bigger. We''re not far from the Switchboard."


    So I gave a little wave goodbye to the books and continued on with her.


    The Switchboard reminded me of the front room of the house where I would always start my train. The paneling was about the same with a look of dark wood grain. The difference was the metallic sliders, switches, and toggles which filled the wall. They had the same color as the doorknobs throughout the house. They were labeled with little white labels which looked like they could be rotated to other things. I noticed ones set to height, weight, and eye color. Towards the middle of the wall, I saw a white panel with the name "Maggie Thornhale".


    Before I could ask about that, Maggie explained, "I was just testing it, to see if it worked. Made my hair longer." Her eyes dipped away from me and she scuffed her feet. I sighed and asked her, "So, how does it work?"


    She brightened at that. "You''ll see. I just need to make a few quick adjustments." She moved quickly, pulling latches and toggles. A bit of humming and little puffs of smoke issued from the wall.


    Maggie rushed over to the white panel and pulled a metallic latch. The name card rotated in a blur and then came to rest on mine. She turned around and folded her arms with satisfaction before noting, "Actually, I didn''t really need to do any of that. But it''s fun."


    She cracked her fingers and announced, "So¡­what to change first? How about your height? You oughta be shorter."


    I flashed her a look. I was fine with my height as it was. But she was already rushing over to the height toggle. She slid it a little to the left. I felt a quick sense of falling. I settled back on my heels. I tried to stand up higher but soon found that I was as tall as I could get. I was still taller than Maggie but only by a little bit. My heart pulsed. My body really could be changed by this. That felt like more than the fun and games so far.


    I urged Maggie, "Please be careful¡­"


    She smiled and waved a hand. "Of course. None of it is permanent. You just set the restore button. Like a very simple computer or something. Only you have to make sure not to press the ''save as'' button. This button¡­" She leaned on the button and my eyes bulged.


    Before I could protest, she smirked. "Kidding! That''s just the delete person button¡­or it''s just whatever I imagine it as. There are no bad buttons here. You can go back to yourself at any time by just imagining a button with the right label. That''s all. So, for now!..."


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    She eagerly threw herself at a new toggle. It didn''t take long to figure out it regulated the length of my hair. A river of it spilled over my shoulders and didn''t seem to stop until it was brushing at my legs. I groaned and Maggie gave a little smirk as she said, "Sorry there¡­I might''ve pushed it a little too much."


    I nodded with a rippling tug following my head. She backed the toggle up until my hair was to my middle back. And she left it there.


    Maggie paused over a big light slider on the wall. It was marked "gender" and slid to ''male''. I took a breath and she looked at me.


    "It''s just the¡­uh¡­bits. But I get to have another sister."


    I folded my arms, took a breath, considered it a moment, and finally said, "Alright. Go ahead¡­if you really want to¡­" She flicked it before I was even done talking.


    There is really no adequate way to describe what I felt right then. It reminded me of a serious case of jumping into cold water mixed with a sudden tug and a little burst of electrical feeling. All that came so quickly that I just stood there a moment and shifted my feet.


    As I was starting to get used to all the associated feelings I had now, Maggie clutched the hips toggle and sent my hips rushing out. My jeans protested and then shifted too. I marveled when I realized that my clothes still fit fine despite my changed height.


    Maggie explained, "Your clothes always fit. Nice little feature because there''s still so much left to do!"


    Next, she took time teasing a couple smaller sliders. I felt a little tug and push on my face but couldn''t really see what the effect was. It reminded me of the character-creator in a video game.


    It started to get bothersome after a while, but she was eventually done. Brushing her hands, she pointed behind me and said, "There''s a mirror now. Check yourself out."


    Despite what I said about imagining myself so many different ways, what I saw in the mirror surprised me. I still kinda had my face. But there were more bits of my mother in there, especially looking at old photos of when she was young. My cheeks flowed out in ways that felt unnatural to me. I felt strange. My whole image did. But it was a lovely face, even if it didn''t feel like mine. I definitely resembled Maggie, but now more in an older, sisterly sense.


    I fixed my pants, though they didn''t need fixing, and fidgeted at the new arrangement.


    Coincidently, or perhaps because she wanted to help me adjust, Maggie kept to smaller changes after that. She shifted my legs a little in their shape and feeling. I''d never really been that hairy, so the smoothness wasn''t all that new to me. It was a little weird to feel my shoulders and torso shift, but it felt more like someone giving a slow massage.


    It quickly became obvious that she''d left one area in particular untouched. I looked down at my flat chest and back up at her. Maggie smiled and said, "Actually, I think that''s fine as it is." I raised an eyebrow, hardly believing her. I wondered to myself if she meant something by this. I remembered a girl back when I was just getting into my teens. She developed slowly and always looked sad. It wasn''t like I knew what she was going through like this. But I did wonder if Maggie was trying to show me a bit of that.


    I asked her frankly. I half expected her to glare. She went quiet, which worried me that I was in for something worse or about to become hopelessly top-heavy. She bowed her head and scratched at her wrist. Softly, she said, "That wasn''t really my situation. But uh¡­I can relate too."


    I blinked, not quite understanding what she meant. She shifted and looked up at me, asking, "If you¡­don''t feel right about this. I can completely undo it, as I said. It''s simple. I don''t want this to pain you¡­honestly."


    I looked into her eyes. There was something there which made me wonder. I shrugged and told her, "I''m okay. If I''m really upset I''ll just hit you on the shoulder. Deal?" I gave her a thumbs up.


    She returned the thumbs up with a slight smile and slid a particular toggle across. Not all the way, fortunately. My chest was a little bigger than Maggie''s. I assumed that was meant to be in keeping with the older sister idea. I looked down at the shape of it. My shirt formed around them. I felt an internal shiver.


    At the same time, the shiver wasn''t sexual. From this angle, I was just looking down at my body. It was my flesh. A little manipulated by an outside force. But it was still me. It wasn''t so big that it was uncomfortable, but the feeling would take some getting used to. Maggie was already eyeing the clothing switches.


    I let her try different things on me. Skirts. Dresses. All varieties of pants. Even some really weird things that looked more like costumes. She eventually put me in something similar to but not exactly like what she was wearing.


    I sighed and turned around for her when she was done. She clapped to herself and then smirked. "Oh! Swimsuits and we should go looking for a beach room!"


    At least she wasn''t thinking of sending me to a real beach in something crazy. I leaned back against the other wall as she darted around the sliders for just the outfit setting she wanted. I glanced to the right. My expression dipped.


    Maggie hummed, but she soon noticed my expression.


    "What is it?" Her voice was quieter than it had ever been before. She spoke nervously. I gestured with my hand a ways down the room to a wall with the lights above burnt out.


    There was a door in the wall, and it was utterly black. The knob appeared deeply tarnished with grime and dirt. The door looked like it had been smeared in pitch. It was the first door I''d seen which was anything but light-toned.

 Our House: Part 4 - Get Away

    Our House


    Part 4 - Get Away


    Maggie leaned close and urged me, "Ignore it. You don''t go in the black doors¡­ever, you understand?"


    I looked back at Maggie and asked, "Why? What''s wrong with them?"


    She gripped my shirt by the hand and said, her eyes wide, "You just don''t. You know I said I''ve seen brothers and sisters of mine? Well, after they go through a black door¡­they never come back."


    I could tell she was serious. Her hand trembled with her grip. Slowly, she looked away and said, "So, you don''t go into black doors. That''s the end. No more of it."


    She turned away from the door and cleared her throat. "We can go back and find the beach. It''s nice. You don''t even need a swimsuit. You dry instantly anyway." She gave a little laugh and started walking away from the black door. I followed her around a corner. She stopped fast and panted in front of me. I looked ahead.


    There was another black door right next to the white one we''d entered through, only this one was open a crack. Just a crack. It shifted a little. The door undulated like how the bathroom door used to do when it was really windy and it was just barely open. It moved out and back. The latch clicked a little when it touched. The sound was like crunching something brittle underfoot.


    Maggie took a long breath and bent her head around to me. "Stop thinking about black doors. The house takes your thoughts. Even the bad ones. You have to think good things."


    I swallowed. I wasn''t trying to think about black doors, but it was like trying not to think about anything. I came up with pink trees to flush the idea from my head. Maggie led me through the white door to some stairs. There were a few pink plants on the sides. She took a breath and we slowly made our way up the stairs together.


    At the top of the stairs, she cried out. This time, there were two black doors before us. The doors were open about halfway, enough to see through. The interiors were even blacker than the doors. I couldn''t make out if there were walls. Light didn''t seem to pass through the threshold. There was a white door past the two black ones. Maggie kept her gaze on it as she pressed, "Don''t even look at them¡­"


    I kept my gaze on her, but I could feel like the twin doors were watching me as I passed, like a pair of empty eyes. Maggie clung to the knob and pushed it out. She screamed as the white door flung open. On the other side, every wall was covered in black doors and they were all open wide, like gashes. She quickly shut the door and whirled around, whispering, "Backtrack¡­"


    As we made our way to the steps, they slowly evaporated, melding into the wall. The two black doors beside us banged open. As they slammed, they spread over all the walls. Four doors. Eight doors. Sixteen. Till they infected the white ones with blackness and left us in the middle of a room with only open, gaping holes.


    Maggie gritted her teeth and screamed out, "Leave us alone! We control this place! ONLY GOOD PLACES! Good thoughts!" She clenched her eyes shut and strained. She panted. I shut my eyes and focused too. Part of me was afraid but most of me didn''t want her to be upset.


    I took a breath. There were no other sounds but our exertions. Slowly, the ill-feeling started to wane. I was the first to open my eyes. I gave a sigh. Maggie gave a little grunt through her teeth when she opened her eyes. There was just one door left. A black one. But it was shut.


    Maggie bit her nails and murmured to herself, "Not again¡­please not again. Just go away. Leave us alone¡­"


    I put a hand on her shoulder and said, "We may not have a choice. It''s the only exit. If you''ve never gone through it¡­how do you know it''s so bad on the other side?"


    She whirled around to look at me. "Every black, fearful, and hidden bit of darkness is behind that door. The worst nightmares. The feelings that hurt the most. All the suffering. It''s the worst thing we can possibly imagine. That''s how it is¡­"


    I squeezed her shoulder. "You''ll have me though. We''ll go together."


    She shook her head violently. "No! I''ll break a wall. I''ll make another way! Anything but that!" She immediately kicked at a nearby wall. She punched and made a quick, fist-shaped dent in it. She groaned and shook her hand.


    The spot she''d made in the wall shifted back as though it had never been there. A deep, low rumble filled the room. We looked around. The walls were moving. They pressed closer on each side. Maggie gasped and started hitting harder. They were as sturdy as stone.


    The air felt close, dirty, and wet. The walls around us started to darken. I pushed too but soon there was only enough room to stand side by side. Just when it looked like it was about to hurt, they stopped. Then the floor began to shift towards the door. It sloped up, making it harder and harder to stand without falling. The rug receded and turned glossy, like plastic. Our shoes refused to grip. Maggie clawed at the walls, but they were glossy as well and, while they were close, they were just far enough apart that we couldn''t brace ourselves. We held on as long as we could before we went tumbling forward to the door.


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    It swung open wide and we were both swallowed by it.


    We landed next to each other on a floor which felt strangely wet and slick. Maggie scrambled to her feet. I could barely see her next to me as a dim shadow in the dark. I could hear her fumbling against the floor.


    She muttered, "No damn lights. Nothing here. Can you even see the walls?"


    I looked around. It was so dark. My vision twisted with the leftover spots of colors and light muddying what may have been there. I couldn''t make out anything. The ground was decently solid at least, despite the weird feeling. I tapped it with my shoe. It squished. I followed what I could see of Maggie''s shape.


    We grunted, panting in the dark. I thought I lost sight of Maggie for a bit. But I soon found her familiar shape standing in one spot. The shadow of her head turned towards me and stayed there. I asked her, "What is it?"


    Standing next to her, her head was locked on me. There was only enough light to see her silhouette. From far away to my right, I heard Maggie saying, "I''m just looking at the damn wall. How''d you get over there? Aren''t you right next to me?"


    I clenched my lips and answered, "Aren''t you¡­aren''t you standing still and staring at me?"


    Maggie''s voice quieted. "That''s you¡­isn''t it?"


    The shadow before me looked much darker than the area around it. The face. I could make out nothing of the face. But I could imagine its eyes were large, black holes of nothingness. I tried to resist that imagining and backed away from it slowly.


    It advanced, step for step. I held my hands up to protect myself and so did it. I wanted to yell out, but I feared what might emerge from its mouth. I kept backing away until I hit something. I gasped and whirled around. Maggie stood before me with her mouth open and what looked like a gloss of sweat on her cheeks.


    I turned around to check. The black form was gone. Maggie panted and relayed a similar story with a shadow that looked like girl me miming her. Somehow, it seemed a little brighter by Maggie. I could barely see her features but well enough to know she wasn''t a black mass. Her voice was reassuring. It wasn''t the only sound I heard though.


    It started slowly, at first barely more than a rustle. Before long, I couldn''t ignore it. It was impossible to make sense of it. The noise was like something ever so gently grilling on a stove. Like when mom used to cook when she was well. But it wasn''t just that. It also sounded wet, like something slick slipping around.


    Maggie noticed it soon after me and softly asked, "What on earth is that?"


    I shook my head and grabbed her hand. She tensed at first but realized it was me and clung more tightly to my grip. We moved together in the darkness, but the sound followed us, like it was everywhere. The floor still felt a little wet and slick, like someone had just taken a mop to it. It was still fine to walk on. We had no idea where we were going. Maggie gave a little growl through her teeth at the strange sound.


    At least it wasn''t as bad as what came next. The sensation I felt was like putting your arm under the faucet when it was slowly dripping. One little something caught me and then it was gone. I pulled my hand from Maggie''s and brushed at my arm. I didn''t feel anything in the place where I was touched. Maggie asked me what happened.


    I explained as best I could. Then she gave a little screech and batted at herself, yelling, "Something hit me too!" She flailed and murmured, "I wish I could see¡­anything."


    Her wish was unfortunately soon answered as the room brightened. We were able to see each other. Quickly, we looked up and immediately wished we hadn''t.


    The ceiling rippled and moved. It looked bloody, pus-like, and black at the same time. Little insects flew in waves and scurried with endless legs. Wet worms dripped from above like a slimy rain. And the rotting was spreading to the walls on all sides. Roaches held in place long enough for us to see them before they seemed to vanish.


    We crouched, and Maggie clung tightly to my hand. She yelled at the mass on the ceiling, "Stop this! We don''t want it! Stop it right now!"


    I swallowed and looked up with a hand to shield my eyes.


    The advance of the rot stopped. But a new crackling sound began. It sounded like my parent''s old LP player when it started up. We paused to listen. The ceiling slowly swayed and hard bits started to congeal from the gore and ooze. It was more of a whisper but cranked down, like a machine running out of batteries.


    The first part I could make out was Kids are playing up downstairs.


    There was the sound of footsteps about us and masses began to project downwards.


    He can''t hang around.


    It looked like a monstrous growth holding all the horrible things from the ceiling, like a droplet ready to fall.


    Our house¡­in the middle of our street.


    The words were clear. I remembered it. Something from dad''s old collection he would play from time to time. It sounded so unsettling. The words repeated a few times, louder and deeper.


    We backed away as far as we could go. Bugs hurried by out of the corner of my eye.


    Something tells you that you''ve got to get away¡­from it.

 Our House: Part 5 - Sickness

    Our House


    Part 5 - Sickness


    The mass split open like a hungry maw with hard parts of irregular teeth. The sound was muddled as it started to roar. We ran around the room, trying to dodge whatever we could. Wet dribbles of disgusting things continued. Maggie groaned and staggered.


    I turned back to look at her, the mass projected out at her like a horrible, rotten meatball. I tried to grab her to turn her away, but it crashed against her. We both screamed but I took a breath when it puffed around her like a cloud of dust. The dust was foul, full of all the worst scents from trash that someone had long forgotten to take out, to things turning colors in the fridge. The worst of all was the crash of dust, like putrid spice against our sinuses.


    Maggie bowed and trembled until the wave passed. She stood up but taller than she had before. I marveled. Her body was different. Her long hair was gone. It was still shaggy but not nearly so much. Her chest was flat and her figure had dwindled. Across her face, I saw the faintest peppering of facial hair.


    She noticed her hands first and gasped before crouching. The sounds from her throat were different, deeper. I reached a hand out to touch her. She turned away and whimpered.


    "No. Not this. Please¡­"


    I crouched beside her, trying my best to ignore the lingering odors and pulsing masses still present in the room. I put my arm around her and asked, "Are you okay, Maggie?"


    She bent her head towards me and sniffled. "Why didn''t it hit you¡­you don''t even want that form¡­"


    I took a breath and pressed my lips together. "I wish it had. I''m so sorry."


    She brushed at her eyes and glared up at the ceiling, yelling, "LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE FOR A MINUTE!" She still managed to get her growl to sound high and angry. Amazingly, the mass listened to her and pulsed by itself.


    Taking a breath, Maggie told me, her face turned away, "My name is¡­Andrew. Like you. My birth name. And I wince every time I hear it." She winced a little saying it too.


    I kept my hand on her shoulder. "So¡­you''re another me?"


    "A different you¡­I guess. A you who''d give anything to be a girl."


    The mass receded into the wall. I could faintly hear the music again, but I focused on Maggie.


    I sighed to myself. "Well¡­uh¡­you make a really cute girl¡­and a really cute boy too. But I see you as Maggie. If that''s alright."


    She turned to look at me. "Yes. Thank you so much."


    I gave a smirk. "You''re my sister. No biggie."


    The mass had dwindled so much that it looked more like a stain on the walls with the occasional insect fluttering around. I had no idea what I was doing but it seemed like the right thing.


    Maggie cupped her face. "This is what I look like on the outside. I can''t¡­keep it outside. I keep reverting. I found the switchboard¡­after mom died. She¡­always emphasized how much of a boy I was. Over and over¡­like water torture."


    I looked beyond Maggie. The wall had begun to fester and swell. It dripped a bit too.


    Clenching my teeth, I urged her, "But on the inside of the house¡­It''s happier because you can change your form. Like you did for me."


    Maggie kept staring at a place in the floor with her eyes still. "Mom never knew¡­any of it about me. I was¡­too gutless. I could never tell her. Or dad. They would always yell at me¡­think I was gay. I would yell back. Even in the darkest moments, we would fight¡­over and over." I held Maggie''s shoulder. The mass had swelled just as large, but it was turning black, like something necrotic.


    I said, anxiously, "I had a lot of good moments. With both of them. More than bad. Really. There was yelling. A lot of yelling. But uh¡­good too. I''m sure they accept you. They¡­loved us."


    A faint bit of music emerged, like from far off.


    She''s the one they''re going to miss in lots of ways.


    Maggie covered her eyes. "They didn''t love me. They loved what they wanted of me. Mom especially¡­ They loved what they said I would and could be. But they never fucking cared what I was. And I knew¡­if I breathed a word of myself to them¡­unthinkable things would happen."


    The blackness ate further, churning with all the terrible things that slipped in and out of it.


    I held tightly to Maggie''s hand. "There were bad things. I took care of everything towards the end. For many years. And they didn''t care how much I gave. It''s like they were just eating it all up and there was more and more¡­a dark, consuming pit. More and more. I cared for them but it just¡­took so much. I felt like I was trapped, but I could never complain¡­"


    The refrain from that song returned.


    Our house¡­in the middle of our street.


    Maggie yelled at the music, "SHUT UP!"


    But this time it didn''t listen. In fact, as she spoke, the blackness seemed to crystallize. It became like glass. Cracks formed along the top of the room and radiated downward.


    The music continued.


    I remember way back when everything was true


    And when we would have such a happy time.


    Pieces of the room fell away from us, the blackness too. It tumbled into a new abyss. The walls dropped, leaving us with a fracturing floor like melting ice on a river. I held onto Maggie as tears flowed around her eyes. I held her and said, "I''ll hold onto you. It''ll be okay. No matter what happens."


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    We moved to try to cling to the few islands of dirty floor that hadn''t dropped away. The areas beneath our feet quivered. We stepped around but were eventually left with just two pieces suspended in space.


    And I remember how we''d play¡­simply waste the day away


    Then we''d say nothing would come between us¡­two dreamers


    I clung to Maggie and she clung to me as the last pieces finally dropped and us with it. The abyss was endless, but we could still hear the words echoing in the dark.


    Our house¡­our house


    We fell for a long time, the wind whipping past us. Then, we were on the ground with no more of a fall than jumping off a curb. I looked down at myself. I had my normal body and clothes again.


    The room twisted and revealed itself. I knew it immediately. It was the living room as it had been towards the end for mom. Her hospital bed was set up where the couch used to be. An old painting had cobwebs at the corners. The pump for her oxygen sat to one side. There was that pile of assorted things she needed as well, with the extra blankets at the very top.


    There were masses in place of where mom and dad should''ve been. In dad''s couch was a mottled mess with Swiss cheese holes through the head. Still, I could recognize his face, dipped and snoring. Mom was splayed across the bed. Her mass had brown spots like dried areas when I needed to change her sheets. Otherwise, her flesh was a mix of red, pale skin, and oozing blackness.


    Maggie stood and looked around with me. She softly said, "It''s¡­just like it was¡­"


    We crept along and watched until mom burst out yelling at the top of her lungs with a gurgle and bellow at the same time.


    "ANDY! I NEED YOU! I NEED YOU! ANDY! I NEED YOU, ANDY! I NEED YOU! I NEED YOU¡­" Her words kept repeating in the same cycle.


    Dad, bulbous eyes still closed, roared, "GET OVER HERE NOW! RIGHT NOW!"


    Maggie winced and staggered back, as though the words had struck her. I took a breath and approached. I said, "I''m here, mom."


    But her yells continued. She added the words, "I HURT! IT HURTS SO MUCH! I HURT! IT HURTS SO MUCH! I HURT!"


    "What do you want me to do, mom? What can I do?" My answer felt automatic. Maggie mouthed some words to herself as well but let me speak alone.


    Mom continued with her same cycle, the same words. She screamed over and over and then started moaning. Then, she said, her voice lower, "I want to die¡­let me die! I don''t want to live! I want to die! God, let me die! I want to die right now! I need to die! Kill me! I need to die! I want to die! Let me die!"


    I tightened my mouth. Words left me for a moment. What could I possibly say?¡­I never knew in these moments. I could only come up with calm reassurances that she was fine. That she would be okay. That she didn''t need to die. That we needed her. And things were going to be better. I said it the same way every time.


    I started to say it again, but I stopped myself.


    Instead, I took a breath and told her, "Mom¡­it''s okay. The pain is past. You''re not suffering anymore."


    Dad belched words. "What the hell are you saying? You want her to die!? You don''t want to be responsible for ANYTHING!"


    I turned and looked at my dad. I hated it when he was angry most of all. I took a breath and told him, "No, dad. But she''s gone. I took care of her for a long time. I did my best but people die."


    Maggie looked at me with wide eyes. Dad''s mouth bulged and pus erupted from it. "You''re selfish! All the time! All you want is for yourself! You don''t want to do anything for us!"


    I stared dad down. "Sometimes, I need to be selfish. Sometimes, what I want is important. I shared a lot of my time with both of you. And I''m glad I did when I had the chance." I didn''t dwell on the fact I contributed so much of my paychecks to help with the household and that every time I got paid, my parents would salivate at what money I had. Those were arguments I''d run through so many times to no effect.


    Mom moaned. "You don''t love us. Why don''t you just leave! And let me die."


    I took a breath. There was plenty about my parents I didn''t love. But there were the memories of when I was young.


    "I love you both. I just hate how you can be sometimes."


    A gnarled mass of hand reached up from mom''s bed. I looked down on her with a calm face. She could rage and slash and attack, but I''d learned quiet ways of responding to her. She flailed against my quiet but soon receded. Her eyes darted away from me, to where Maggie was standing.


    She took a breath. "My beautiful boy. There you are. You need to cut your DAMN hair. It''s too long."


    Maggie grimaced through her teeth. She clenched her hands into fists. "I like my hair the way it is. In fact, I want it longer. And¡­don''t say¡­that!"


    Gurgling came from mom and dad seemed to add a whisper to her words. "But it''s too long. And you never take care of it right. You don''t know anything about hair. No fashion sense either. You''re such a boy."


    With a lowered head, Maggie panted. I wanted to say something, but I knew she had to do it for herself.


    The words caught in her throat. I moved so she could see me. Her eyes flicked over. She panted again and then blurted out, "I AM NOT A BOY! I AM A GIRL!"

 Our House: End - Out

    Our House


    END - Out


    There were sounds like a deep, flowing gasp, though I didn''t know if mom or dad said it.


    "So, you''re choosing to be GAY? Why would you do that? You''ll just make it all so much harder on yourself and us. Just choose to be a nice boy."


    Her eyes flashed. "Gay has nothing to do with it. I like boys and girls equally anyway. AND I AM A GIRL!"


    Mom''s head dipped up with bloated eyes staring unblinkingly at Maggie, who didn''t step back.


    "A girl? Do you even understand what that means? Girls go through so much more than guys. You don''t understand the pain. You don''t understand the ordeal or the sacrifice. You think you can just claim that on a whim? Boys have it easy. You have no idea¡­"


    Maggie shook her head and whispered, "Easy?¡­You just said I''m making it harder. And it is harder. Trying hard when I have no one around to help me learn and only parents to terrify me if I don''t keep to their fucking ancient gender clich¨¦s. Wondering how much it all might cost¡­and what all I need to do¡­and knowing my best would still be miles behind passing for any average girl. Yeah, fucking easy¡­"


    She trembled, like the words she was speaking were just what she could control of an upwelling fountain capped under pressure for so long.


    Silence followed her bitter words. The response was, "You''re such a disappointment. Maybe if you worried more about making money rather than your crazy ideas of gender then you''d actually amount to something. But all you can do is whine and make problems for yourself. Now wash me¡­"


    Goo, pus, and other foul materials welled up all around mom. She bloated like a bubble preparing to burst. I braced myself, but she just undulated. Maggie took a step forward and said, "If I''m such a disappointment, then why am I so necessary? Needed all the time to do this and do that. I take care of you. I''m your nurse. I''m you''re comforter. I''m the mother¡­and more one than you were to me!"


    The mass rippled and swelled. Maggie approached it and looked it down. She continued, "You are right though. I''ll never know what it''s like to grow up female with all that goes with it. And that family life, of my quiet dreams, is impossible. I''ll never be the little sister who can tease her older brother. But¡­whatever pieces of me which I can express¡­I will fight for¡­with everything I have."


    The rumble continued. I was sure that it would erupt all over her, covering her in all those nasty things. My throat quivered at the lingering, terrible smells. I sent along whatever strength I could for my sister.


    To my surprise, Maggie reached down to touch mom. Where her skin made contact, the masses edged away, just out of reach.


    Maggie continued, "Just like you had to fight for everything growing up. I know it was hard. But¡­you said once in teaching me how to treat others¡­Why make things harder on others? Care for them. And I cared for you and dad. I love you both. I always will. I just have so many hard days around both of you because you can''t let me say who I am."


    The violence of a moment before turned to a slow bubbling as the mass asked, "Then tell me¡­who are you?"


    Maggie''s eyes widened. The buried eyes on mom were focused right on her. She turned and saw dad''s as well. Her lips curled a bit. I wished I could help her with the words, but they came to her eventually.


    "As I said, I am a girl. Even though I haven''t gone through everything as a girl. I know what I am. I know my heart. It''s like¡­you can take away all the flesh on a body¡­you can take away every distinguishing feature. And a body still knows what it is. It''s in there. In my brain¡­my heart¡­my soul. Everything can be taken away from me. I can be a blob of flesh and I''d know with every beat of my heart that I am a girl. Facing that battle is a wall of sadness and not knowing what I can do about it. And it''s so very hard without my family to help. But I know that I never told you this. I was too scared to show it. Too vulnerable. But here it is. This is me. I''m Maggie."


    As she gestured to herself, the female form she had from the switchboard slowly returned to her.


    Gently, the masses around our parents receded. The gore and horrors ebbed away to reveal their normal bodies. Mom looked at Maggie and said, "Hello, Maggie. My little girl."


    Maggie trembled as tears streamed down her face. She embraced mom and so did I. Dad joined us with a smile after slowly getting up from his chair.


    After the hugs, we all talked for a long time. Some of the talk regressed. Dad would dip into ambling talk about old computers and then snap out with a comment about taking out the trash. We imagined trash to take out to placate him. We talked. We argued a little. We even randomly screamed. But, by the end of it, Maggie and I still felt calm.


    It was like a therapy none of us had gone to as a family. When tiredness passed over Maggie and me, the door appeared. It was a dim but clear color of white, as though a cruddy black door had been scrubbed clean.


    Stepping through, we somehow found ourselves back at the train station or at least one of them. Maggie sat on the bench and cradled her head.


    I sat next to her and asked, "Do you think the house did all that?"


    She frowned and noted, "Could''ve done it better than scaring us to heck."


    I leaned against her. "You said the house reflects our minds. So, maybe we did it."


    Maggie just raised her eyebrows and shrugged.


    I smirked a little and noted. "So, I guess it could be said we cleaned out the house of our minds¡­"


    Looking over at me, Maggie said, with narrowed eyes, "You definitely deserve some sibling punishment for that¡­" She leapt on me and tickled mercilessly. I tried to counterattack, but she was just too strong, despite being smaller than me again. When all the squirms and laughs were done, we sat there.


    Maggie tapped her foot slowly. "That¡­all that with mom and dad. It helped. I dunno about cleaning. And I don''t know if it makes it all right now. But¡­it helped." I put my hand on her shoulder and she smiled gently. I told her, "For me too. I wish it was really them. But, yeah, it helped."


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    Before long, a train puffed its way from the corner and pulled to a stop at the station. There was no conductor or operator. We made our way to one of the passenger cars and leaned out the windows.


    Automatically, the horn sounded and the train pulled away. We rode off as the air washed over us and a new dawn rose over the distant wall. Maggie leaned her head on the edge of the window and let the air play with her hair. I leaned my hand out and felt the air cascade over it. I tried to see if my fingers could brush against anything as we rode past.


    The room had a little of the scale model village of before, but the setting was more a pristine wilderness. The grass felt real. The rocks didn''t seem like imitations. The walls were harder to make out. And the sun which rose felt as brilliant as the real one in the sky.


    We pulled into a familiar station. I could see a glimpse of the bar area near where I had entered. When we got out, I held Maggie''s hand and told her, "You can stay with me."


    Her eyes widened. "With you?"


    I told her I had a decent apartment. There was a spare bedroom. She could do all sorts of crazy stuff so long as it wasn''t at three in the morning. She smirked and noted, "There''s an endless house before us and you''re willing to go back to a small apartment?"


    I razzed her a little and noted it wasn''t that small, adding, "And it would be ours."


    She hugged her arms and sighed to herself. "Alright."


    I led her out of the house, taking the route I remembered. Back through the long hallway. Across the loft and out the garage guest house. I had to drag her from the video games in the enclosed porch. Then to the spare room''s closet.


    It took a moment to push the latch open and step around the junk. We emerged to a house which felt familiar and seasoned with age. All the regular rooms were there. All the cobwebs too. Maggie sighed and looked at the extra door behind the closet for a long time, as though she expected it to vanish away.


    Putting my hand on Maggie''s shoulder, I reassured her, "I''m sure the rest of the house will be there¡­if ever we need it again."


    She nodded and then looked down. She gasped. "I''m still a girl. Each time I left before¡­I reverted!" She hugged herself and twirled.


    Looking at me in relief, she sighed. "I was really worried about that. I guess I can live with not being able to have any meal for a few buttons."


    As she went to go check herself out in the bathroom mirror, I checked the clock by the kitchen. According to it, I had only been away for about an hour. It definitely felt longer.


    I went to the front door to check and see if my car was still in the same place. Upon opening the door, I froze and peered out. Frowning, I turned and called to Maggie. She came quickly and stared at what I saw.


    The house''s extended front porch had the same dusty bench and worn chairs as always. But, to the left side of the brick column, at the top of the cement steps, was a single, white door standing freely.


    The door was brilliant ivory. And it was more than the fact it was outside in the sunlight. A door brighter than any door inside the house and any door I''d seen anywhere. The knob was polished to the point it reflected a vision of the whole porch on its surface. Maggie staggered back on her heels and resolved, "We''re still inside the house. That''s got to be it. Makes sense¡­I''m still a girl. I guess we have to camp out on the lawn."


    The way was open to the right leading to the grass. We grabbed a couple of sleeping bags, pitched a small tent, and told the confused neighbors we were camping out.


    At first, it was hard to sleep. We spent a while trying to get each other to laugh with ridiculous stories. Eventually, we nodded off together.


    When we woke, we unzipped the tent and peered out at the porch. The door was still there, same as before, even with dusk falling. Maggie paced and shook her head.


    "This isn''t right. We should be outside the house. What''s going on?!" She made a motion like she was about to kick the door, but she restrained herself.


    We ventured back through the hidden doorway and to Maggie''s world through the route she remembered. Her house, just as dusty but with some of her own choices of d¨¦cor, had a door standing on the front porch as well.


    Back on my porch, Maggie cradled her head in her hands and mumbled, "This doesn''t make sense¡­.we should be outside."


    We thought it over. We went for a drive. The town was just as I remembered it, though Maggie got annoyed that certain businesses she liked on her side were closed up over here. We stayed a night at my apartment. The door was still there the next day.


    We took some trips. We ventured around to familiar and fun areas. Each time, the door was still there.


    One day, I brushed my cheek and told Maggie, "I think we should go through it¡­"


    Maggie shook her head and waved her arms. "No way! We don''t know what''s through there. It could be anything. It could be nothing. Who knows?!"


    I smiled a bit and told her, "Exactly. Let''s find out."


    She glared at me and gave a slap of her feet. I tried to urge her with smiles, but she was resolute.


    I tried, "Alright. Let''s just open it. If we don''t like it, we can close it and¡­I dunno, say it''s a bit of post-modern art or try lighting it on fire or something."


    She protested, but I could tell she was just as curious as me about what was on the other side of the doorway, if anything.


    We stood before it and I put my hand on the knob. I thought maybe I would open it and simply see the other side of the street. I turned the knob. It moved smoothly in my grip.


    I shut my eyes slightly. There was no flash of brilliant light or block of darkness as the door opened. Pulling it further, I carefully looked through.


    I smiled. Beside me, Maggie smiled as well and softly announced, "I think I''m ready to go through."


    Looking at her, I took her hand in mine and answered, "Me too."


    Together, we stepped through the threshold.