The Troubling Stone

The Willems were not accustomed to having a guest in their house, a stranger at that, order them to follow him please, as though he owned the place. Still, they were not sure what else to do. Mr. Willem had, after all, asked that Mr. Heed give some actual proof of his story. Their visitor was offering to do just that. Tim, of course, believed him, because he had seen Big’o himself on more than one occasion, running through the basement, and each time disappearing somewhere behind the furnace. How he did it, Tim couldn’t guess, as it should have been a dead end. Kim believed, although she herself had not seen Big’o. She had, however, seen other the strange things, along with Tim. The twins’ credibility was on the line, and perhaps their teacher could salvage it for them. “Where’s the light switch?” Mr. Heed asked, reaching his hand into the basement stairwell. The sooty footprints reported by the police were ground into the carpet by the door, showing that someone’s dirty feet had gone both ways, to and from the upper floor of the house. “Ah, here we go.” He flipped the light on, and led the way down the stairs. “Tim, which way is the furnace?” Tim pointed over the stair rail, and Mr. Heed squinted in the direction indicated. He saw that the basement was separated by a row of concrete posts. On the near side, lit by the bare bulb in the ceiling, were the washer and dryer. Beyond the posts, it was darker, and a wall ran across the space between the posts and the front of the foundation. This was a load-bearing wall beneath the expanse of the living room. Tim took the lead, and, in this darker area, he reached up and pulled a chain, throwing light on Mr. Willem’s workbench, boxes filled with musty magazines, and general basement clutter. In the back corner, between the dividing wall and the front of the house, stood the furnace. The family cat, startled by the sudden light and arrival of so many invaders into its domain, darted out, ‘mrowing’ all the way to the stairs. A small cloud of grey soot was raised in its wake. “There,” said Dad, “remember what I said before? You probably just saw the cat.” Yet he no longer sounded really convinced of this. “Soot,” said Mr. Heed thoughtfully. “The fireplace empties out down here, does it not?” “Yes,” Dad said. “There’s the little door there in the wall, and the receptacle the soot goes into. I admit I could’ve done a better job sweeping up, but it’s not the showplace of the house, and we weren’t expecting company down here.” Mr. Heed crouched down and studied the floor along the front wall. “It seems that something has been stirring this up. We know the cat made that trail,” and he pointed where the cat had made its hasty retreat. “But here you see what looks like something much heavier scuffled through.” “Big’o,” Tim said. “Exactly, and he got enough of this gritty fireplace soot on his shoes to track along the carpet upstairs. If you look, his trail ends right here.” He pointed to a spot against the dividing wall. The family was silent a moment, then Dad spoke. “Ends there? Against a wall? Then what? Is this Big’o a ghost? Did he go right through the wall?” Mr. Heed stood back up. “Oh yes, I’d say he did. But no, he’s not a ghost. He didn’t pass through the wall itself. He opened up a passage that led him out of your house, and back toward Hdodaby.” “A passage you say? This wall is a little less than a foot thick, Mr. Heed. On the other side is the rest of our cellar. That would be a pretty short passage.” Mr. Heed raised his eyebrows as he looked at Mr. Willem. “Did you hear what I said before about the Many Folds? Only the very opening of the passage would be here in our fold. As soon as he entered into it, Big’o would have essentially left our reality and entered another. One that doesn’t continue inside your house.” This was utterly lost on the Willems, and Mr. Heed knew that a demonstration would be far more effective than an explanation, no matter how carefully worded. “Now would be the time,” he said, casually, to no one in particular. Before the Willems could ask “For what?” Tim and Kim became aware that their toolstone cases were rattling. They looked at Mr. Heed apprehensively, but he only smiled and nodded. They popped open the cases, and in each was a clear glassy key, lying over the other stones. Mom and Dad gave a start. These were like the one the teacher had described in his story. “Tim,” Mr. Heed said, “you were the one to see Big’o. You may do the honors.” Tim lifted the key out of the case and turned it in his hand. He looked at the wall, and hesitated. “Where?” he asked. “I’d say where the tracks end. Just touch it to the wall and give it a small turn. It won’t snap.” Tim squatted down to what he reckoned was the relative height of a hdoda, reached the key out, and did as Mr. Heed said. A section of wall about four foot high and three wide melted away and left an opening. Yet, instead of light showing through from the other side of the basement, it looked utterly dark inside. Dad spoke slowly. “This isn’t possible. It’s just a dividing wall…it…” Mr. Heed pulled a coin from his pocket and, with an underhand toss, threw it inside the opening. It rolled a ways in and then they couldn’t hear it. “You could walk around the wall,” the teacher said, “and you’ll see that it did not come out on the other side. It’s no longer in our reality. It’s gone through the many folds to an in between place.” Mom stared at the dark opening a moment, then spoke softly. “This is really scary. You’re telling us that our baby was taken through there, and is no longer in our world?” “That’s basically it. It’s now up to Kim and Tim to go and get her back.” “Kim and Tim? Why? Why them? Why can’t you? You know all about it, don’t you?” “It has to be Kim and Tim. The toolstones have their names on the lids.” Her voice was no longer soft, but rising with each question. “That’s not a reason. Anybody could have written names on those lids!” Mr. Heed shrugged. “The dog expects them.” “What dog?” Kim knew right away. “The one in the hedge! It goes back in and never comes out the other side. Is that a passage between the Many Folds?” “It certainly is,” Mr. Heed answered. “That’s the dog’s own passage. This right here is the one Big’o took, so you’ll have to take that. It’ll lead you to the fold where you’ll find Hdodaby. You’ll have to cross some terrain first. We don’t like to come out too close to Hdodaby. Remember how easily I was caught the first time I went.” “The dog expects them,” Dad repeated. “I can’t believe that’s the reason you’re sending our children.” “Okay, it’s not the real reason, although, for her part, she does expect it to be them. I’ll tell you more about it later. Right now, it’s really time for them to get started.” Kim and Tim were excited, but frightened as well. Mom was paler than she’d been all night. Any more so and she’d take on the color of a mime. Dad swallowed hard. “Kim, Tim, I don’t want you to do this.” He wasn’t saying this as an order. He sounded as if he’d been asked to speak now or forever hold his peace. “How do we know they’ll come back? What kind of danger are they heading into?” Mr. Heed shrugged. “What kind of danger is your baby girl in if they don’t go? If it’s any comfort to you, and it should be, no one who has gone before has failed to come back. Some came back empty handed, but they always came back. The hdodas aren’t known to kill.” “Aren’t known to? Do you know everything about them?” “More than they think. “ “What about this Magoo you were telling us about?” “M’doo. He expects it to be them as well, but he can’t be seen to help them if he wants to avoid the Place. I’m the only one to whom he really owes anything.