Miriam Watson was used to playing alone. She was an only child, and her father had died in Iraq shortly before she was born, so she had only ever known him through pictures and video. While this would make her sad sometimes, she was hardly the only kid in her fifth grade class to only have one parent.
Miriam had lived in the city with her mother, Elizabeth, in a decent two-bedroom apartment in a decent neighborhood. She went to a decent school, played with her friends, and had as normal a childhood as anyone could hope for. That all changed six months ago when Elizabeth's aunt passed away.
Having no children of her own, the aunt left her home to her favourite niece, and since living in a house that had no mortgage beat paying rent every month, Elizabeth and Miriam packed up and moved out of the city and into the country.
Miriam fell in love with the home, just like her mother had when she was young. She thought the house looked a little creepy, but she liked that. What she didn't like is that there were no neighbors within walking distance. She could see the next house during the day, but at night Miriam felt like they were the only people for miles; maybe the only people in the world.
The house was big, certainly bigger that their little apartment had been, and really too big for just two people; Miriam wondered what her great aunt had done out here all by herself. She decided that she must have spent most of her time tending to the beautiful, walled-in garden at the back; she knew that's what she and her mother did on most weekends.
While school was still going, Miriam had plenty to keep her occupied, getting used to a new school, making new friends, doing homework, and the like, but now that school was out, things were different.
Elizabeth, was a freelance copy-editor and writer, which means sometimes money could be in short supply, but also that she could work from home, so Miriam never had to be in daycare, nor be left home alone. However when Elizabeth was working, she usually could not be disturbed or interrupted, so Miriam often felt like she had the whole house to herself.
Miriam would occupy the long summer days wandering the house, looking at the old furniture left behind in rooms that she and her mother didn't really use. She would look for secret passages and doorways to to secret rooms, or secret compartments containing ancient treasures. Not finding any, she would then go out to wander around the garden if it wasn't too hot.
The garden continued to amaze Miriam; it didn't look like something that belonged here. The walls were made of large, gray stones that had been shaped into bricks, and were largely obscured by vines that had been allowed to run wild over its surfaces. The same stones had been used to make planters that came up to the little girl's shoulders. The planters of flowers and shrubs were separated by a grid of paths graveled with shiny black pebbles.
Sometimes Miriam would pack herself a small picnic, and head out to the garden with her Hello Kitty MP3 boombox. She would eat lunch under the summer sun, while listening to Chopin, Beethoven, and Bach. The meal would generally be followed by her dancing around the garden to the music while pretending she was a fairy in a magical wonderland.
It was during one of these dances that she noticed something strange under the vines of ivy on one of the walls. She thought she had checked all of the walls for secrets and treasures, but here was something she had somehow missed. She went to check it out.
Pulling aside the vines, Miriam found a section of wall that appeared to have been carved to resemble a door. The door was about six feet tall, and looked like it was made out of rough wood planks and then somehow turned into stone.
Miriam tried to pull on the stone ring set into the left side of the door, but it didn't budge; the ring was part of the wall, not the separate piece that it appeared to be. Closer inspection revealed that there was no seam along the edge of the door either; it ended in the middle of the individual bricks. Miriam tried to imagine sculpting this door into the wall once it had already been built.
In the center of the door was a stone plaque, also carved into the bricks. The plaque read: “Enpert the Portclavis”, and beneath that was an indent the shape of a large, elongated diamond. The young girl rubbed her finger over the indention.
Ecstatic to finally find a secret in this house, Miriam snatched her MP3 player from its boombox, and took a picture of the plaque. She twisted the vines around themselves and pulled them aside to take a picture of the whole door, and then ran for the house.
“Mommy, mommy!” the little girl hollered, her voice echoing off of the walls and hardwood floor of the hallway as she ran towards the room her mother had turned into an office.
Elizabeth closed her eyes for a second, before taking off her glasses and placing them on the desk next to her mouse. She turned to face the door just as her daughter bounded into the room, holding her MP3 player out in front of her.
“Yes, honey?” Elizabeth asked.
“Mommy, look what I found in the garden!” the girl exclaimed, shoving the music player in her mother's face.
Elizabeth recoiled from the device, and then took it from her daughter's hand so that she could get a better look at the picture, “What is this?”
“It's in the garden!”
The girl's mother looked closer at the picture, “Huh, I don't think I've ever seen that before. It looks really well sculpted though. I wonder when Aunt Ethel had that carved; it was never there when I was your age.”
“It doesn't open though,” Miriam says, disappointed, “and I don't know what those words mean.”
Elizabeth slides the next picture on the screen, “Enpert the Portclavis?” she reads, “Sounds like nonsense to me, honey.”
“It looks like something is supposed to be in there; in the hole!.”
“Yup.”
“I'm going to find it!”
“Okay, but be careful; I don't want you hurting yourself.”
The next week was spent searching the whole house all over again. Miriam looked in all the places she had looked before, but now with a purpose. She was no longer just looking for trap doors and hidden cubbies, but for a specific item. She looked through drawers, and cabinets, through closets and under furniture, but turned up nothing more interesting than dust-bunnies, a “Mondale/Ferraro 84” button, and an empty can of Crystal Pepsi.
“Mommy!” Miriam called from the door of her mother's office.
Elizabeth finished the sentence she was typing, and then turned to face the child, “Yes, daughter?”
“Can I look in the attic?”
“For what?”
“For the Portclavis!”
Elizabeth had to think for a second before she realized what her daughter was talking about. She had been down to the garden herself that first afternoon to check out the stone door in person. While she found the door's presence puzzling, she was at least relieved to find that it was as it appeared in the picture; a carving only, not an actual door.
“I don't know if I like the idea of you in the attic alone, honey. I haven't had a chance to go through Aunt Ethel's stuff up there; you could hurt yourself on something.”
“Like an old hand grenade or something?” Miriam asked, almost sounding hopeful.
Elizabeth nodded, “Yes, Mir, exactly; like an old hand grenade.”
“I promise if I find a hand grenade, I won't touch it!”
“I should hope not.”
“So can I, huh? Can I?”
With a sigh, the girl's mother relented, “Alright, but be careful, and if you find anything dangerous, weapons, rusty metal, anything you could hurt yourself on, you come can get me immediately, okay?”
“And if I find the Portclavis?”
“You can come and get me then too.”
“Okay!” Miriam squees, and runs from the room.
“And money!” Elizabeth called after her daughter, “Come and get me if you find money!”
With a bottle of water and her Hello Kitty boombox, Miriam spent the next three days searching the attic. While boxes of stuff her mother brought with them from the city are closest to the attic stairs, beyond that is a museum of old junk.
Searching through boxes and trunks revealed old clothes, books, tennis trophies, toys, and lots of things Miriam decided that she would spend more time on at a later date. Looking under sheets and cloths revealed old furniture, lamps, and even a tailor's dummy; all stuff she found interesting, but just not interesting enough right then.
By the time she reached the far side of the attic, Miriam felt dejected. She looked out the attic window to the garden below; looking at the greenery growing on the wall; greenery she knew concealed the door.
Head hung low, Miriam decided that she had just wasted two weeks of her ever-shortening summer looking for something that didn't exist. Dragging her feet along the attic floor, she headed back towards the stairs, deciding that she would just go play video games for the rest of the day.
As she picked her way through the labyrinth of old junk, a flash of light caught Miriam's eye. The sun, shining through the window and bouncing off of a newly uncovered full-length mirror, was reflecting off of something just above the doorway to the attic stairs.
Pushing a chair up to the edge of the stairs, Miriam climbed up onto it so she could reach the top of the lintel. She grabbed at the shiny object, pulling it down and clutching it in her fist; a silver chain dangled down from her closed hand.
Miriam hopped down from the chair, and opened her fist to reveal a blue, diamond-shaped crystal mounted on a silver plate and strung onto the chain like a pendant. She held it in front of her eyes, and turned it around to look at it from all sides. It looked to her like the right shape and size to fit the hole in the door.
Excited, the girl bounded down the stairs, and ran through the house to her mother's office.
“Mommy! Mommy! I found it!” she yelled as she galloped into the room.
Elizabeth took a deep breath, then removed her glasses and placed them on the desk. She swiveled her chair around to look at her daughter, “Found what, Mir?”
“The Portclavis! This is it,” the girl, so excited that she was practically bouncing, held the crystal out to her mother, letting it dangle on the end of the chain.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but took the proffered stone. Looking at it, she realized that it did look like it matched the impression in the wall, “Hmm, well then I guess we'd better go see if it fits.”
The mother and daughter headed out to the garden and made their way to the wall. Elizabeth pulled back the vines to reveal the carving of the door. It did indeed look like it was carved to fit the crystal her daughter found.
Before Miriam could step forward, her mother moved to block the door, “Now honey, before you do this, what do you think is going to happen?”
“I dunno,” Miriam said, and then thought for a second, “Maybe it'll open up!”
“And if it doesn't?” Elizabeth took care to say 'if' instead of 'when'.
“Well, then, I dunno,” Miriam said, suddenly sounding glum, as if the idea that nothing would happen hadn't even occurred to her.
“Tell ya what, if nothing happens, we'll go into town and have pizza at Biff Cheezy's, okay?”
Miriam brightened, “Can I play games too?”
“Yes, you can play games too.”
“Okay!”
Satisfied that she has defused a potential fit of crying, Elizabeth stepped aside, allowing her daughter access to the stone door.
Miriam approached the door, and turned the crystal so that the backing it's mounted on was facing her. Slowly, carefully, she fit the crystal pendant into the slot in the wall; it fit perfectly.
The girl stepped back, leaving the crystal slotted in the wall with its chain dangling down, and waited to see what would happen. She waited five seconds, but nothing happened. She waited ten seconds, but still nothing happened.
“I'm sorry, Mir, but at least you found a pretty necklace,” Elizabeth said.
Miriam frowned, “It's okay. I guess it was kind of stupid, huh?”
“It wasn't stupid, hon; perhaps a little unrealistic. Still, it's not a total loss, and I'm sure you found a bunch of stuff in the attic, right?”
“Yeah, there was this box of-” Miriam stopped as a soft humming flooded the garden.
Elizabeth jumped back, startled, as the hum seemed to be coming from the wall. The vines fell back, obscuring the door again. She grabbed her daughter by the shoulder, and pulled her away from the wall.
Through the vines, a blue light started to shine, forming the outline of the door.
As if they were curtains on a drawstring, the vines parted, pulling to either side to reveal the full door. The spaces between the bricks seemed to have filled in, creating a single solid door with light shining around the edges of it, as if it were a real door that was just a little too small for the doorway.
“It's working!” Miriam cried.
Elizabeth stood there, mouth open, too shocked at what she was seeing to even try and stop her daughter from pulling out of her grasp.
The little girl stepped back to the door, and grabbed the ring. Instead of being an unmoving piece of stone, the ring now felt like metal in her grasp, and pulled away from the door, only attached at one point instead of being part of a solid piece of stone.
“Appasste!” a deep voice said from behind the door, “Ethel has presuned! She's finally presuned!”
Miriam pulled on the ring, and the door slowly slid open, bathing the two women in blue light.
They did not go out for pizza after all.