PORTAL on sale for 99 cents!

For some reason my novel PORTAL is now on sale for a mere 99 cents at Amazon and Barnes & Noble. I really think you oughta buy it. Here’s its great new cover:

And here’s a random quote from a satisfied reader:

A Terrific Read! I wasn’t sure what to expect when I started reading this. Would the promising story idea deflate once it got past the initial set-up, as so many other books do? It definitely did not, and stayed entertaining all the way through – I could not put it down. I have kids around the same age and I really felt for these boys – they’re lost and are doing whatever they can to stay alive, stay together and hopefully get home. Glad the book was complete in itself, but it would be great to see them have more adventures like this. Overall, two very enthusiastic thumbs up!


Portal, an online novel: the final chapter

Chapter 35: The climax.  A chase scene.  More gnomic utterances from the annoying alien preacher.  Guns are drawn, threats are issued. Decisions are made, lives are changed.  And finally Larry and Kevin step into the portal, and we reach our denouement.


Chapter 36

Into the interior of the portal, filled with clouds, like a bathroom after a long shower (which I hadn’t taken for months).  Heart pounding, scared beyond anything I had felt before.

If you want to go home, the portal will take you home.  That’s what the preacher had told me in the church.  If only I could be sure what he meant . . .

One, two, three steps, then out of the portal.

Into warmth and bright sunshine.

No, I thought.  Not right.  Not on Christmas.

Was it the wrong world?  I looked at Kevin.  He was blinking his eyes against the sunlight.  “Where is this?” he asked.  “When is this?”

We looked around.  The leaves on the trees were green, but fading a bit.  That oak tree looked familiar . . .

It felt like a warm September afternoon.

“Well . . . ” I said.  My heart was still pounding, but with a different kind of excitement from what I’d felt a minute ago.

“When you went into the portal before,” Kevin said, “to the Dairy King world–when you came back–how much time had gone by?”

“I don’t know.  I didn’t stay all that long.”  But then I remembered coming out of the portal–how Stinky had been waiting for me, right where I had left him.  As if no time had passed.  “Do you think–?”

“Could be?  Why not?  What do we know about time?  What do we know about anything?”

I looked down at my coat–the one the preacher had given me.  It looked really shabby in the sunlight.  I took it off.  Were we back home–and back when we had left?  Had this all happened, like, in the blink of an eye?  “Let’s find out,” I said.

“Wait a minute,” Kevin said.  “What about Lieutenant Carmody?”

We looked around again.  No sign of him.  Was he here?  Or had the portal brought him to some other world?  “Doesn’t matter,” I said.  “What’s he going to do to us now?”

“You’re right.  Let’s go.”  Kevin took off his coat too, and we raced through the woods.  Yes, I thought I recognized these trees, this path.  In a few minutes we saw what we were hoping to see.  There was the old swingset in my back yard.  There was the garage, with Kevin’s bike next to it.

And there was my mother standing on the deck by the kitchen door.  “Larry, would you please hurry up?” she called out when she saw us.  “We’re going to be late for your piano lesson.”

Kevin and I ran through the backyard and up to her.  She looked younger than the mother I had said goodbye to less than an hour ago; but she was the same woman.  I went to hug her, but stopped short as she made a face.

“Look at the two of you,” she said.  “You’re filthy–and soaking wet!  Larry, your new sneakers–you’ve ruined them!  What have you been up to?”

Kevin and I looked at each other as we caught our breath.  I didn’t think about my answer, really.  It was just a reflex.  “We didn’t go far,” I said.  “We just like . . . slipped in a puddle.  Sorry.”

Mom shook her head.  “Honestly, Larry, sometimes you have no consideration.  What were you thinking?  And Kevin, you should know better, too.  Your clothes are like rags.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Barnes.”  But Kevin didn’t look sorry.  He was grinning like crazy.

“I don’t see what’s so funny, Kevin,” Mom said.  “Now run along home.  Larry, go in and change.  Quick!  We’re never on time for Mr. Rosen.”

I stood there next to Kevin.  “Well,” I said to him, “I guess–that’s it.  See ya, Kev.”

“See ya, Larry.  I’ll call you later.”

“Okay,” I said.

He smiled at the word.  “Okay,” he repeated, still grinning.  Then he went over and got on his bike.

“I don’t know why his mother doesn’t make him wear a helmet,” Mom said.

“Beats me,” I replied.


So, why didn’t we say anything?

Well, would you want to tell your Mom you’d stupidly stepped into a portal or a cosmic gateway or whatever and gone off to an alternate universe for over three months and fought in a war and been shot at multiple times and exposed to deadly diseases?  I didn’t think so.

Of course, we could prove our story, more or less.  Show her the portal.  Get scientists out here to examine it.  We’d become famous, be interviewed on TV, make a million dollars.

But I wasn’t really thinking about any of that.  It was just: We were back, and that’s all that mattered.  I didn’t want scientists or TV shows.  I wanted to eat supper with my family.  I wanted to sleep in my own bed.  I wanted to see Cassie again.  I went past my mother and inside the house.

Cassie was in the kitchen, eating crackers, probably so later at supper she could say she wasn’t hungry and demand to know when were we going to get some good food around here.  She stuck two fingers in her mouth as I approached, making like she was going to puke.  “You smell like raw sewage,” she said.  “Haven’t they taught you how to use deodorant in middle school?”

I smiled at her.  I thought about kissing her, but she probably would’ve whacked me.  “It’s so great to see you, Cassie,” I said instead.  “Really it is.”

“You’re retarded,” I heard her mutter as I left the kitchen.

Upstairs, Matthew was playing a video game.  One of my video games, I realized, when I saw the guilty expression on his face.  “I thought you were at your piano lesson,” he said.

“Still here,” I replied.  “It’s okay.”

“What’s okay?”

“Playing my game  You can play it all you want.”


“Sure?  Why not?”

“Thanks, Larry,” Matthew said.  But he looked suspicious.  What was I up to?  I wasn’t up to anything.  I just put on some deodorant and changed clothes.  Before going back downstairs, I went into the bathroom and stared at the toilet.  I flushed it once, just for fun.  Things were going to take a little getting used to.

“Larry!” my mother shouted up to me.

“Coming!”  I left the bathroom and went to my piano lesson.


I don’t remember anything about the lesson; my mind was too filled with other stuff to concentrate.  There was just so much more of everything.  More noise, more sights, more smells–although none of the body odor that Cassie had objected to, and that I had gotten so used to.  I was a little overwhelmed.  The car went way too fast–and on the wrong side of the road.  The radio was just too loud.  I remember asking Mom if I could turn it off, and that got her worried.  “Are you feeling all right, Larry?” she asked.  “You look pale.  And you’re talking a little strangely.  You’re just not yourself somehow.”

Not myself.  Had I developed an accent, along with everything else?  “I’m fine,” I said.

She didn’t look convinced.  That’s what I always said.  “What exactly were you doing back there in the woods?” she demanded.

“Just goofing around,” I said.  “Really.”

Later Dad came home–beardless, and not as strong-looking as the soldier/farmer I had left behind a few hours ago, but still my Dad.  We sat down to supper, and I had my first mashed potatoes in months, and my first fresh vegetables.  The milk was way colder than any I’d had in the other world, but nowhere near as good-tasting.  And it was strange watching everyone use a fork instead of a knife to eat.  As we ate my father asked his usual question: “So, what did you do today, Larry?”

And I gave my usual answer: “Nothing.”

And then I started to laugh.


Kevin called later.  The phone was something else I’d have to get used to all over again.  “You say anything to anyone?” he asked.

“Nope.  You?”

“No.  You going to?”

“I don’t know.  Your parents suspicious or anything?”

“Mom can’t understand why my hair is so long,” Kevin said.  “But I mean, what’s she gonna say?  I went over to your house for a while, then I came back.  And that’s it.  I was gone, like, two hours, max.  How much can your hair grow in two hours?”

“Well, should we say something?”

“I suppose so, but–I dunno.  I don’t feel like it.  Not right now, anyway.”

“I know what you mean.”

“I was wondering,” Kevin said.  “How can we be sure this world is exactly the same as the one we left?  Maybe we’ll go to school tomorrow, and Stinky won’t exist.  Or he’ll be just a little bit different.  Maybe we won’t be able to tell what’s different.”

“I don’t want to do any wondering for a while, Kevin.”

“Yeah, okay, just a thought.  Any sign of Lieutenant Carmody over there?”

I had forgotten about him.  “No.  I hope he’s all right.  He wasn’t that bad.”

“I suppose.  If he’s not here, we’ll never find out where he is.”

“I guess not.”

Cassie came in and glared at me for hogging the phone for three whole minutes.

“Gotta go,” I said.  “Cassie wants the phone.”

“Cassie.  Geez.  Cassie’s alive again.  And you know something else? I’m twelve again.  I lost a birthday when we came home.  Anyway, it’s good to be back.”

“Did you flush a toilet?” I asked him.

“You bet I did.  And took the world’s longest shower.  See ya.”

Cassie had heard my last question, and made a face at me like I was too weird for her to even contemplate.  I just gave her another smile.

I tried watching TV after I hung up, but it jangled my nerves like the car radio, and besides, it was way too stupid.  I did like getting into my bed and feeling that comfortable mattress beneath me; I wouldn’t miss those straw mattresses and hard floors.  I wasn’t tired, though.  For all the excitement of the day, it hadn’t been that long since I’d been dozing in front of the fireplace and dreaming of grilled cheese sandwiches.  So for once I really enjoyed talking to Matthew.  He was happy about my letting him play Final Fantasy so he was even chattier than usual.  After he’d been yakking for a while I decided to bring up a topic of my own, which I figured was just the kind he liked to talk about.  “Matthew, what if there are millions of universes, each one just a little bit different from all the others?  What if we each have millions of different lives?  In some of them we’re rich, in some of them we’re poor, in some of them stuff like cars and computers haven’t even been invented.  In some of them we might be dead, or maybe we never even existed.  What if we could go to another universe and see how we lived there?  Wouldn’t that be cool?  Wouldn’t we learn a lot?  Matthew?”

No answer; he was asleep.  For once I had out-talked him.


There’s no place like home.

That’s what the movie says.  Now I was home.  So I should’ve lived happily ever after, right?  No more fighting with Cassie.  No more getting mad at my Mom or annoyed at Matthew.

That lasted less than a day.

Cassie yelled at me in the morning for being in the shower too long.  Well, she was the one who complained that I smelled bad, wasn’t she?  And Mom wanted to drive me to the bus stop–she was still worried about that pervert in Rhode Island she’d read about.  It’s so dangerous nowadays, she told me.  You can’t be too careful.  I’ll tell you about danger! I wanted to shout at her.  I’ll tell you about cannonballs falling all around you and Portuguese soldiers charging at you with swords and bayonets.  I’ll tell you about Canadian soldiers trying to decide whether to kill you, and New England soldiers shooting at you from watchtowers . . . And I survived it all.

But I didn’t say anything about that.  I just got into a stupid argument with her and almost missed the bus.  Nothing had changed–except me.  And how had I really changed?

Well . . .

Take Stinky Glover.  He was still here, despite Kevin’s fantasy.  On the bus the next morning he gave me a purple nurple instead of a wet willie.  Same difference.  He still thought the name “Lawrence” was incredibly funny.

But, you know, I didn’t really mind.  On that other world, he had helped me, maybe even saved my life–saved me from an enemy soldier, anyway; taught me how to hunt; showed me the way home, even if he had finally snitched on me.  Maybe on some other world he was a good guy whose master didn’t beat him.  Maybe on some world we were best friends.  I let it go.

And Nora Lally.  Before English class I decided, what the heck, and I went over to her.  “Hi, Nora,” I said.  “Listen, I was thinking–I’m a pretty good writer, at least that’s what Ms. Nathanson tells me.  If you want someone to, like, take a look at your compositions before you turn them in, I’d be happy to.  Just for, you know, spelling and grammar, that kind of stuff.”

Pretty lame, huh?  But she smiled–just the way Sarah Lally smiled–and she said, “Thanks, Larry.  That’d be great.”

It couldn’t be that easy, right?  But it was.  I smiled back, and we sat down to find out what Ms. Nathanson had to say.


 And the piano.  I might not have had a good lesson that first day back, but still . . .  I found myself playing more than I ever had before, just for the fun of it, the way I had at Professor Palmer’s.

And one day Mom asked, “What’s that piece, Larry?”

I realized I had been playing that old song Professor Palmer liked so much:


Wanly I wandered

Through the world far and wide

Seeking some solace

For dreams that had died.


Long did I linger

In an alien land

Till tears finally left me

As I stood on the strand.


And there was the final verse that I had tried not to think about in the other world.  But now it seemed okay to remember it:


Then homeward I hastened

To friends I’d forgot

And found where I’d left it–

The joy that I sought.


“I don’t know,” I said.  “Just something I picked up.”

“It’s very lovely,” Mom said.  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before.”

It was lovely, and I was glad I had learned it.  I was glad of a lot of things that had happened to me.


Long did I linger

In an alien land . . .

I kept thinking of Kevin’s stupid remark about your heart being in two worlds at once.  Because that’s how I felt sometimes.  I was glad to be back, glad to have plenty to eat and no one shooting at me.  But half my heart was still in that other world, with the professor, with my family, with Sarah Lally, even with General Aldridge and President Gardner and Stinky Glover.  What were they doing right now?  How was New England making out after the war?  How was the Barnes family making out, with Cassie dead and me gone and no harvest to keep them through the winter?  Was Professor Palmer all right?  Was Stinky in trouble with his master?  I would never know, but that didn’t mean I would ever forget.


And found where I’d left it–

The joy that I sought.

I don’t know about joy.  But whatever it was, it had always been here, right?  And it just took a little growing up to find it.  I couldn’t keep smiling at Cassie when she insulted me, but I could remember her in the camp, unhappy and desperate, and I could feel a little pity for whatever was going on inside her.

And my mother.  Was it so hard now to see the overpowering love that was behind her fears of every danger that lurked in wait for us?  In how many worlds had she lost me because she hadn’t been vigilant enough?  In how many worlds did I lay buried in the family graveyard, and she had to spend her life mourning what might have been?


Finally, there was the mystery of the portal.  Kevin and I talked about it endlessly, and he was fascinated when I told him the preacher’s story, fascinated by the idea that some mysterious race had built the portal and then disappeared, and this other race used it just to go preaching, without really understanding it.  But mostly he was fascinated by the idea that the portal always brought you home, if that’s what you wanted.  “Wouldn’t it be great,” he said, “if–every time your life started to suck–you could step into the portal and just come back when you’re ready?”

“Uh, Kevin, you’re skipping over the parts where you get shot at and come down with a terrible disease.  Who was the one that was desperate to get back here?”

“I know, I know.  But still . . . ”

Still . . .

Then there was the day Kevin came over with a copy of the Glanbury Mariner.  “See this?” he asked.

He pointed to an entry in the police log, which the paper prints every week.


“2:17 a.m. Fowler Street resident reports strange man sleeping in tool shed.  Man fled when approached.  Described as medium height, wearing red jacket, carrying old-fashioned pistol.  Cruiser dispatched, searched neighborhood.  No one found.”


It was dated the night after we had returned home.

“So he made it,” I said.

“Looks like.”

“What should we do?”

Kevin shrugged.  “I don’t know what there is to do.”

But eventually it became too big a secret too keep.  The portal was just too important not to talk about it, especially if Carmody was around.  I figured my father was the one to tell.  He’d know what to do with the knowledge, and he’d know how to keep Mom from getting too mad at me when she found out just exactly what we’d been up to back in the conservation land where we weren’t supposed to be.  Kevin agreed.  “Let’s not say anything to your Dad until he sees the portal for himself,” he said.  “Otherwise he’ll think we’re just making everything up.”

So on Saturday when Mom was out shopping Kevin and I told Dad there was something we wanted to show him out in the woods.  “Found some buried treasure?” he asked.

“Not exactly.”

“You know your mother doesn’t want you wandering around too far back there, right?”

“Yeah, I know, but anyway–this is going to be pretty interesting.”

So he followed us out into the woods.  Kevin kept looking at me like, this is really gonna be something.  And he was right.  It wouldn’t just shock Dad, but everyone in the world.  It would change the way people thought about everything–science, religion, history.  And we were the ones who found it.

And what if the scientists figured out how to use it, and we could return safely to our other world?

I knew the way pretty well by this time, although Dad kept bugging us by explaining stuff and pointing out the names of trees and the birds.  Everything was an education to him.  Well, we were about to give him an education.  Kevin and I stopped when we reached the clearing.

“It’s right here, Dad,” I said.  “Watch this.”

Kevin and I went over to it and reached out our hands.

They didn’t disappear.  We looked at each other, and then started walking around in the small clearing, waving our arms.  “It’s gotta be here,” Kevin muttered.

But it wasn’t.

“May I ask what you’re doing?” Dad asked.  His arms were folded, and he was looking at us like he was trying to figure out if this was some kind of middle-school joke that he didn’t get.

“Is it the wrong place?” Kevin asked me.

I shook my head.  “It’s gone.”

I felt like I’d been punched.  It couldn’t be true, but it was.  The portal was gone.

“Well?” Dad asked.  “I could use some help raking, if we’re done here.”

“Sorry, Dad,” I said to my father.  “There was something here, but now it’s gone.”

“Do you want to tell me what it was?”

I looked at Kevin, and he just shrugged.  “I guess not,” I said.  “It doesn’t matter.  Sorry we bothered you.”

Dad just shook his head.  “Larry, you sure have been acting strange lately.”

“It’s a phase,” I replied.  “Like Cassie.  Could you like–give Kevin and me a minute?”

“All right, but don’t get into any trouble back here.  You know how your mother worries.  And grab a rake when you come back.”

He turned and walked away from us.

“Figures,” Kevin said, kicking at a rock.

I noticed something else.  “I took off the preacher’s coat when we got out of the portal.  It’s gone, too.”

Kevin looked around.  His coat was still there, lying on the ground where he’d dropped it.  “The preacher moved the portal,” he said.

“Didn’t want stupid kids taking it for any more joyrides, I guess.”

Kevin sighed.  “Oh, well.  It would’ve been something, wouldn’t it?  The look on your Dad’s face . . . ”

“Yeah.  Still, this is okay.”

“It’s okay,” Kevin agreed, sighing again.

And we walked slowly back out of the woods.


This is okay–this life, this world.  But one thing I remember is the preacher telling me how easy it was for him to spot another traveler–someone who didn’t belong, someone from a different world who was just passing through.  Are there a lot of those travelers, or just a very few?  Sometimes I find myself trying to see if I can spot them, too: scared kids like me or soldiers in red coats or wandering preachers with black, glittering eyes . . .

And I find myself wondering: What if I do spot one?  Another stranger, say, talking to a small crowd in a park or on a street corner, telling them to how to live and love and appreciate the universe . . . ?  Would I run from him as fast as I could?  Or would I say, Please, show me where the portal is.  I don’t care about the risks.  I want to go back to that other world again–just for an hour, just for a minute.  And if I can’t go back, let me try for a new world, a new adventure.

And I think about what the preacher had said to the people in the Boston park: How can you know what is in you unless you have struggled, unless you have been asked to do more than you thought you were capable of doing?

What better way to do that, than to find a new world?

I really don’t know what I’d do if I spotted a traveler.

But I’d like to find out.



Portal, an online novel: Chapter 35

Chapter 34: Professor Palmer is waiting at the farmhouse for Larry and Kevin.  He tells them what they have already found out from Stinky Glover: Lieutenant Carmody is after them, determined to keep them in this world.  The snowstorm prevents them from heading directly to the portal, so they have to stay at the farmhouse.  They hide when Carmody shows up.  Carmody orders the place to be searched.  Peter, the lieutenant’s good-natured driver, discovers them, but doesn’t tell anyone.  Carmody leaves, and the boys spend a worried night waiting for the dawn, when they will finally make it back to the portal.

And now (finally) the climax.


Chapter 35

Kevin and I put on the clothes from our world, then our coats.  Professor Palmer was coming with us; Mom was going to stay home with Matthew.

“Please be careful, Larry,” she said.  I knew she’d say that.

I went over to her.  She pulled my coat tight around me, and then touched my arm.  “If you don’t come back,” she whispered, “I will always see your face in my mind.  And I will always be grateful that you came into my life.”  She kissed the top of my head and hugged me.  “Now go, and be good to your mother.  She worries about you every minute.”

“I don’t want to go,” I said.  “I love you.”

She just shook her head and turned away.  I ran up to the attic then and kissed Matthew, who stirred but didn’t awaken.  When I came downstairs, I took a quick look around, and then followed the others out of the farmhouse.

Outside, Gretel was already hitched up to the sleigh.  Dad got up on the bench to drive.  Kevin and I sat on one of the facing seats; Professor Palmer sat on the other.  “A one-horse open sleigh,” I said to Kevin.

He didn’t bother answering.

The snow had mostly stopped.  The air was cold; the sky was brightening.  Dad picked up the reins.  Mom waved to us from the doorway; her cheeks were wet with tears.  We all waved back, and then we started off.

It was slow going at first, as Gretel got used to her burden.  The world was silent except for the shooshing of the sleigh’s runners over the snow.  Silent and beautiful, with the snow weighing down the branches of the trees.  I spotted a deer gazing out at us from a stand of pines.

“If we find the portal, will you come with us?” I asked Professor Palmer.

“I can’t decide,” he replied.  “What do you think?”

“I don’t know.”  I thought about the preacher’s advice.  “Listen to your heart,” I said.  “It’ll tell you what to do.”

“Yes,” he murmured, “I expect it will.”

I thought about my own heart.  What was it saying?  There was something that Kevin had said about hearts once, long ago . . . but I couldn’t quite remember it.  Finally I let it go.

We were on the Post Road now, and going faster.  Three miles to the Fitton place.  And then what?  How would Kevin react if we couldn’t find it?  How would I react?

“Oh, no,” Kevin said after a while.

Behind us we saw a dark shape on the road.

Kevin looked around at Dad.  “How much further?” he asked.  “I think we’re being followed.”

“Around this bend, then a bit beyond.  If it’s Carmody, he won’t catch us in a carriage.”

“Still, can we go any faster?” he pleaded.

Dad flicked the reins, but Gretel was pulling a lot of weight through the snow, and she just didn’t have the strength to speed up.  But Dad was right, the shape behind us didn’t come any closer.  I was pretty sure it was the lieutenant’s carriage, though.

“Let’s go!” Kevin cried.

We rounded the bend in the road.  Nothing looked familiar to me.  How much further?

To our right was a small slope, and at the top I saw someone standing in the trees.  “Stop!” I shouted.

Dad pulled on the reins.  I got out and started running up the slope.  The figure disappeared back into the trees.  I turned and saw Kevin behind me, and Professor Palmer struggling through the snow behind him.  And I saw the carriage pulling up behind Dad’s wagon.

I reached the trees.  Where was the figure?  I kept going into the woods.  A pine bough slapped me in the face and drenched me in snow.  I was out of breath; my feet felt numb.  Where did he go?

Then I saw him, standing in a small clearing.  The preacher.

He looked cold.

“I didn’t mean to leave like that last night,” he said.  “But I wasn’t supposed to be talking to you, never mind your friend.  I seem to be breaking rules left and right, though.  So what’s one more?”

“Is it here?” I demanded.

“I wasn’t standing out there for my health,” he replied–a little crossly, I thought.  “Look, here’s some final wisdom, not that you’re in the mood for it.  Don’t think badly of me.  It is difficult to find one’s way–in any world.  We–all of us–can only do our best.”  He took a step backwards.

“Wait a minute!” I called out.

“And remember,” he said, “it is only by setting out–”  But that was all I heard.  He had disappeared.

“Who was that?” Kevin asked, coming up beside me.

“The preacher.  He was waiting for us, to show us where he put the portal.  He just stepped into it.”

Professor Palmer joined us, trying to catch his breath.  “They’re right behind us,” he gasped.  “I think you boys should–”

Kevin didn’t have to be told what to do.  He headed into the middle of the clearing, but not soon enough.  Lieutenant Carmody crashed through the trees and came up beside the professor.  He took out his pistol and aimed it at Kevin.  “Good morning, lads,” he said.  “And Professor Palmer.  Not exactly where I was told the portal was, but no matter.”

We stood there.  A few seconds later Sergeant Hornbeam and my father showed up; the sergeant was holding a pistol to my father’s back.  “Morning, all,” he said.  Behind them came Peter, looking unhappy.

“You know everything we know,” Kevin said to the lieutenant.  “Keeping us here won’t help you.  Please let us go home.”

The lieutenant shook his head.  “President Gardner wants you to stay.  And so you’ll stay.”  He paused.  “I’m the one who is to go.”


He shrugged.  “Did you think we’d have this device in our possession and not try to use it?  You may be right that we’ve learned all we can from you.  So I’m go to where you came from and return with those marvelous things you described to us–medicines, inventions.  Weapons.”

“But that’s nuts,” Kevin said.  “The portal doesn’t work that way.  If you go, you won’t be able to get back.”

“Perhaps.  But you boys are hardly experts on the portal, now are you?  The president thinks it a risk worth taking.  And I agree.”

“William, about the boys,” Professor Palmer said.  “I beg you to reconsider.  We owe these lads an enormous debt.  Without them, we’d have lost the war.  And I can assure you that my interrogations of them have been complete and exhaustive.  They have nothing left to give us.  Surely we can let them go home.”

“They’ll be treated well,” Lieutenant Carmody said.  “My orders are clear.  This is where they are to stay.”

“What if you keep me and let Kevin go?” I asked him.  “You–or Sergeant Hornbeam–can just say you didn’t catch him in time.  That’s almost true, after all.  If you’d been ten seconds later, he’d have been gone.”

“I’m afraid not,” he replied.  “I have my orders.  The president wants you both.  He has a personal affection for you, Larry, of course.  He was quite amused when he found out you had made up those stories about your experiences in China.  But Kevin has a somewhat better knowledge of the science of your world, in my opinion.  Come along, lads.”

I looked over at Kevin.  I could tell what he was thinking.  Should he just make a run for it?  Dive into the portal and hope for the best.  Maybe the lieutenant wouldn’t really shoot him.  Maybe he’d just be wounded and could still make it home.

“Please don’t, Kevin,” I said.

“Why not?” he replied.  “Why not?”  There were tears in his eyes.  To be this close . . .

And then I heard a familiar voice behind me.  “Damme, it’s too early in the morning for this sort of nonsense.”

I turned.  It was General Aldridge.  He was unshaven, and his uniform was the usual rumpled mess. “Thank you for the information about the lads, Alexander,” he said to the professor.  “I came as soon as I could, though this snow was a nuisance.  I believe I missed a turn back there somewhere, but no matter.  Everyone I was looking for is here.  Give me the pistol, Sergeant,” he ordered Sergeant Hornbeam.  “And Lieutenant, kindly set yours down.”

Sergeant Hornbeam obeyed immediately.  But Lieutenant Carmody said, “I believe an order from the President of New England would supersede an order from you, General.”

General Aldridge sighed.  “Sergeant, you have no direct orders from the president, I take it?” he said.

“No, sir.”

“Then kindly take the man’s pistol.”

Sergeant Hornbeam hesitated this time, but finally went over to the lieutenant and held out his hand.  “Sorry, sir,” he said.  “We should go back and sort this all out.”

“By then there’ll be nothing left to sort out,” the lieutenant muttered.  But he handed his pistol over to the sergeant.

“That’s better,” General Aldridge said.  “Now, I take it this famous invisible portal is somewhere in the neighborhood?”

“Yes, sir,” Kevin said.  “Right over here.”

“And you lads want to go home?”

“Yes, sir.”

“The lieutenant wants to use it too,” Peter said, speaking for the first time.  “Why don’t you let him?”

The general looked at Peter, then at the lieutenant.  “Is that true?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” the lieutenant replied.  “To bring back the knowledge from the other world, if possible.  As requested by the president.”

The general scratched his chin.  “Seems very risky.”

“I’m prepared to take the risk.”

“Very well, then–go ahead.”

The lieutenant hesitated.  “Now?”

“No, let’s stand here for an hour or two and freeze to death.  Of course now.”

“What about the boys?”

“You can leave them in my care, Lieutenant.  Who better to carry out the president’s orders than the leader of his military?”

The two men stared at each other.  Finally Lieutenant Carmody stiffened and saluted the general.  “As you wish, sir.”

General Aldridge casually returned the salute.

“Kevin,” the lieutenant said, “can you show me where the portal is exactly?”

Kevin walked forward to where the preacher had disappeared.  He reached out his hand, and it too disappeared in mid-air.  He pulled it back, and it reappeared.  Then he moved it forward again–gone.  “Here,” he said.

“Extraordinary,” the general muttered.  “Are you ready, Lieutenant?”

We waited.  Finally the lieutenant nodded and walked over to the portal.  “I wish no one unhappiness,” he said.  “Please believe me.  I only seek to do my duty.”

“Thanks for everything you did for us,” I said.

“How do I–”

“All you’ve gotta do is step in,” Kevin said, “then just, you know, step out the other side.”

“Very well.”  He looked around at all of us then–and, I think, at the trees, the snow, the sky–everything there was to see on the cold Christmas morning.  Then he followed Kevin’s instructions.

He was there and then he wasn’t, vanishing into invisibility in a split-second.  None of us moved, as if we expected him to come back if we stayed still long enough.  But he didn’t return.  He was gone.

Professor Palmer went over and reached his hand into the portal the way Kevin had done, then took it out again and shook his head.

Kevin walked back to General Aldridge.  “Are you going to let Larry and me go, sir?” he asked.

“Of course,” the general replied.  “Speaking of duty–you’ve done your duty here.  More than your duty.  President Gardner will be disappointed, but he’ll get over it.  If you happen to see Lieutenant Carmody on your world, send him our regards and tell him to come back soon.”

“Professor Palmer is going to come too,” Kevin said.  “Is that all right?”

“Really?  Doesn’t anyone want to stay here?  I know the weather’s been unpleasant, but it’s rather nice in the spring.”  General Aldridge turned to the professor.  “You wish to leave us, Alexander?”

The professor was looking at the portal.  “I–” he began, and then he shook his head.  “No, I don’t wish to leave.”  He turned to us.  “I can’t go, boys.  This is my home.  You’ve given me much to think about, much to learn, but I should learn it on my own.  And, you know, General Aldridge is right: it’s lovely here come springtime.”

“Okay,” Kevin said.  “I understand.  So it’s just you and me, Larry.”

Everyone turned to look at me.

I couldn’t move.  I couldn’t speak.

Listen to your heart, the preacher had said.

It is only by setting out that you can finally return home.

“Larry,” my father murmured softly.  “You have to go.  We love you, but you have to go.”

And then I remembered what Kevin had said about hearts–back on our world when I brought him to the portal.  I wonder what happens if, like, one half your heart is in this world and the other half is in the other.

Just a stupid little comment–the kind of thing Matthew would say.  But it made a different kind of sense to me now.  This is the way it was going to be for me, no matter what choice I made.  There wasn’t a right answer or a wrong answer–it was just a question of which half of my heart I was going to leave behind.

I hugged my father–something I never did at home–and he tousled my hair.  He was weeping–something he never did at home.  I was starting to cry too.  Then I said my goodbyes to the rest of them: Peter, who had saved me more than once, and General Aldridge, who had rescued us from the lieutenant, and Professor Palmer, who had been our other father in this world.  I hugged them all.

“We will miss you terribly,” the professor said.  “But you’re doing the right thing.  Fare you well.”  His eyes were moist too.

“Good luck to the Red Stockings,” the general said to Kevin.

I figured I’d better do it before I changed my mind.  I looked at Kevin.  “Ready?”

“Are you kidding?” he said.  “I’ve been ready for months.”

“Then let’s go.”  Like Lieutenant Carmody, we took a last look around, at the faces so familiar to us now, at the world that had been our home, and then we stepped into the portal and left them all behind.

Portal, an online novel: Chapter 34

Chapter 33: Stinky has snitched on Larry and Kevin to Sergeant Hornbeam and Lieutenant Carmody.  Carmody is determined to keep them in this world.  Now Kevin and Larry have to get to the portal as fast as they can, before he can stop them.  But it is now snowing heavily, and the Barnes family can barely make it back to their farmhouse.  Someone is waiting for them at the farmhouse.  Larry and Kevin are relieved to discover that it is Professor Palmer.


Chapter 34

I jumped from the wagon, ran up to the professor, and hugged him.  Kevin was right behind me.

“Hello, Larry,” he said.  “It’s good to see you.  And you, too, Kevin.” 

“We missed you,” I said.  “I’m sorry we left like that, but–“

“I understand.  I’m just so glad you’re both alive.” 

“We’re glad you’re alive, too,” Kevin said.

Then my parents came up with Matthew, and the professor said, “You must be the Barneses.  My name is Alexander Palmer, and I beg your pardon for entering your home uninvited.  I rode down from Boston this evening in the utmost haste, and the weather–“

“Of course, sir,” Dad replied.  “You’re most welcome.  Larry has told us about you.  Let’s all go in out of the snow.”

We went inside, although Dad went out again almost immediately with Matthew to put Gretel in the barn.  Kevin stoked up the fire, and Mom heated some cider. 

“I’m afraid I’m here with some distressing news,” Professor Palmer murmured to me.  “Would it be better if we talked in private?”

“Not really.  I’ve explained about who we are and the portal and everything.  So, is this about Lieutenant Carmody coming after us?”

He raised an eyebrow in surprise.  “You’ve heard?”

I told him a bit about Stinky Glover.

“Interesting–so that’s how Carmody found out where you were.  Yes indeed, I did come to warn you about him.”


“When’s he coming?” Kevin asked.  “How much time do we have?”

“He’s coming as soon as he can, as far as I know.  But the storm may delay him, obviously.”

“How’d you find out?” I asked. 

“And how’d you get here before him?” Kevin added.

“I found out because he told me, Larry.  He has always assumed that I would be eager to have you boys kept here, even against your wishes, in the interest of science and the advancement of knowledge.  How little he knows me, after all these years.  As for how I managed to get here before him–as soon as I found out I spoke with General Aldridge, and he urged me to leave immediately; he was as outraged by this plan as I was.  Carmody had to stop at Coolidge Palace before making the journey.”

“Why?  To see the president?”

“That is correct.”  Mom handed the professor a cup of hot cider.  He bowed and thanked her, then continued.  “The president is less of a fool than he looks, I fear.  And the lieutenant is more of a schemer than I expected.  He has decided his opportunities are greater if he sides with the president against General Aldridge.  He explained about you boys to Gardner, and convinced him that you are vital to New England’s survival, and possibly more.  With the knowledge you bring, why couldn’t we conquer our enemies?  I rather think he believes there’s no one we couldn’t conquer, in fact.”

“That’s stupid,” Kevin protested.  I thought of the preacher talking about how easy it would be to rule a run-of-the-mill world like this, and I wondered just how stupid the idea was.

“Well, that was their thinking,” the professor went on, “–if they could find you, if you hadn’t already left.  But that raises the question: Why are you boys still here?  Have you not been able to find the portal?”

“That’s right,” I said.

“I’m very sorry to hear it.  But I fear that staying in Glanbury will not be an option, unless you want to be part of what Carmody and Gardner are planning.  Perhaps you do.  I’m sure you’ll be treated well.  But if you don’t, we must move quickly to get you away from here.  Despite the war, I have many academic friends in Canada, and I’m sure–“

“We’re going to try to find the portal,” Kevin interrupted.  “As soon as we can.  We have an idea where it is.”

“Ah.  That’s good, then.  You’ll have to hurry, though.”  The professor looked a little disappointed.  “I only wish I had a little more time to spend with you.  I was so happy to find out you were all right, and now–“

Kevin’s eyes lit up.  “You should come with us!”

“You mean–into the portal?”

“Sure–why not?  Think of all the stuff you asked about and we didn’t know the answer to.  Imagine what you’d learn if you came to our world and got to talk to real scientists–people as smart as you.”

Now the professor looked confused, flustered.  “But–but if I left, I couldn’t come back.”

“We don’t know that for sure.  Anyway, so what?  You don’t want to be around here when they find out you helped us escape.  President Gardner doesn’t like you anyway.”

“True, but–“

I suddenly thought of the most important reason for him to go.  “There’s no smallpox in our world,” I pointed out.  “Your wife and son may be alive.”

That stopped him, and I could see my Mom react, sitting by the fire.  “They may never have existed on your world, as I understand it,” he pointed out.  “Or they may have died of some other disease.  Anything is possible.  Correct?”

“Only one way to find out.”

“Well, I’ll consider it,” he replied.  “It would certainly be . . . quite an adventure.”

Dad and Matthew came back in the house then.  “We pulled out the sleigh and got it ready,” Dad said.  “We can leave as soon as the snow let’s up.”

“You’re going away,” Matthew said to Kevin and me accusingly.  “Dad told me.”

Kevin nodded.  “It’s time,” he said.

“Matthew, take off those wet clothes and have some hot cider,” Mom said.

Matthew reluctantly changed his clothes and sat on Dad’s lap next to the fire.  The rest of us also gathered around the fire, although Kevin kept getting up to check on the snow.  People talked–about the portal, about the war, about Carmody’s treachery–but I didn’t pay much attention.  It just felt so good to be there, with my family and Kevin and the professor, with the fire blazing and the snow coming down outside.  If only I could have captured that moment forever . . .

After a while I closed my eyes.  And, in the middle of everything, I had a dream about grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.

That was our regular Sunday night supper.  We complained occasionally, especially Cassie: Why couldn’t we get takeout?  Why couldn’t we have real food?  But Mom wouldn’t relent.  The meal was cheap and easy, and she liked it.  Besides, it was what she’d had on Sunday nights growing up, and if it was good enough for her, it was good enough for us. 

So I’m sitting in my usual place at the kitchen table, across from Cassie.  I slurp down some of my soup, and then I happen to look over at her.  She’s one of these people who can get angry at you just for looking at them.  Just for breathing the same air, really.  So she says to me, “What are you looking at?”  And I say: “Nothing.”  And she says: “I’m not dead, you know.  That’s just in your stupid dream.”

And I say: “That’s not a dream.  This is the dream.”

And she says: “You’re so stupid.”  And she turns to Dad: “Isn’t he stupid?  Isn’t this the reality?”

And Dad smiles his leave-me-out-of-this smile and says: “One person’s dream is another person’s reality.”

And then we’re both mad at him for not agreeing with us.  But he says: “It really doesn’t matter.  No matter what the dream is, it’s time to wake up.”

“What if I don’t want to wake up?” I say.

“It doesn’t matter.  Wake up.  Wake up!

I opened my eyes, and Dad was staring down at me, but he had a beard, and it wasn’t Sunday night in my world, it was Christmas Eve in a very different world.

“Wake up, Larry,” he repeated.  “Someone’s coming.”

“In the closet,” Mom said, gesturing to the storage area to the right of the fireplace.  “Quickly.”

She had pulled out the blankets and some other stuff that they kept there.  I got up, and Kevin and I jammed ourselves into it, and then she pushed the stuff back in and closed the door. 

Kevin and I knelt down, cramped and in darkness except for a sliver of light through the door.  It wasn’t really a closet like in our world; it was only about four feet high, but it extended back a few feet, so we couldn’t stand up, but we could stretch out a little bit.  It’s Carmody, I thought.  He was bound to look in here.  And that would be that. 

There was a loud rapping on the door.  I heard footsteps, then muffled voices, then a lot more footsteps–boots moving across the wooden floor, this time coming towards us.  And then Lieutenant Carmody’s voice, just on the other side of the closet door from us: “Professor Palmer, how interesting to meet you here.”

“Hello, William.”

“Didn’t you trust me to find our young friends?”

“I couldn’t wait to see them.  I was overjoyed to learn that they survived the battle.”

“As was I.  Wretched weather, though.  Peter had a devil of a time getting us down here.  Now Mr. and Mrs. Barnes, we’re looking for a couple of lads named Larry and Kevin.  We have information that they are living with you.”

Were living with us,” my father responded.  “They have returned where they came.”

Silence.  I tried to imagine what Carmody was doing, how he was reacting.  He wasn’t happy, I knew that.  I was sweating.  My back hurt.  The blankets were making my nose twitch, but I willed myself not to sneeze.  I could here Kevin’s breathing–why couldn’t he be more quiet?  “What does that mean, exactly–‘returned where they came’?” Carmody asked finally.

“They finally found the portal that would take them home, as I understand it.  And they’re–well, gone.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Barnes, but I think that rather unlikely.  Our information is that they were here a couple of days ago, and that they’d been unsuccessful in finding the portal.”

“That’s true, sir, but something happened.”

“And what is that?”

“They met the family who picked them up that day coming out of the woods,” Dad replied.  “Name of Harper.  They remembered where that was.”

“Ah, I think the boys mentioned that family to me.  And where is the portal?  Did you see them leave?”

“They said it was in the woods near the Fitton farm–about three miles south on the Post Road.  I didn’t see them leave–it was rather emotional, sir.  My wife and son have grown quite attached to the boys.  We brought them to the woods, they went in, and they didn’t come back out.”

I didn’t realize my father was that good a liar.  There was another silence, and then I heard more footsteps.  “Well?” Carmody demanded.

“I checked the barn.  Nothing there.  A sleigh’s been moved out, though.”  It was Peter’s voice.

“Any footprints leading away from the house?”

“None that I noticed, sir.”

“Search the house.  Sergeant Hornbeam, find the stairs to the attic and look around.  Peter, search down here.”

“There’s a little boy sleeping up in the attic,” my Mom said.  “Please don’t wake him.”

No response.  Footsteps again.  So all my father’s lying would be in vain, once Peter opened the door to the closet.  And he’d probably get in trouble, too.

“Nothing in the kitchen,” Peter reported.

“Check that closet over there,” the lieutenant said. 

“Yes, sir.” 

I braced myself.  The door opened.  The blankets moved.  Then Peter was leaning in and staring at us.  He paused, then slowly winked and put the blankets back where they were.  “Nothing in here,” he said as he closed the door.

“Nothing in the attic,” Sergeant Hornbeam added.

“Very well,” the lieutenant said.  “Can you show me where you dropped off the boys?”

“Not in the dark,” my father replied.

“Yes, yes, in the morning,” Carmody snapped.

“All right.”

“Alexander, do you want to come with us?  I understand there’s a reasonable inn on the Post Road.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Barnes have invited me to stay here, William,” the professor replied.  “I’ve had enough of traveling for this day, I think.”

“Would you like some hot cider before you leave?”  That was my Mom, speaking for the first time.  Did she have to be so nice?  Why didn’t she just let them go?

“No, thank you, ma’am,” Carmody said.  “Sorry for the intrusion.  These were interesting lads, as I’m sure you understand.”

“Indeed we do.”

“One thing more: You’re not to speak of this portal to anyone.  Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”  That was my father again.

More footsteps and muffled voices, then a door slamming.  We waited, and after a minute the closet door opened and the blankets and junk were pulled away.  Kevin and I crawled out.  Everyone was grinning.  “I thought surely you’d be discovered,” my mother said.

“We were,” Kevin replied.  “But Peter kept it to himself.  I always liked Peter.”

“Thanks for making up that story,” I said to Dad.  “It sounded great.”

“I don’t approve of what that man wants to do,” he said.  “You’ve done nothing wrong, and he has no right to try to keep you here against your will.”

“I agree,” Professor Palmer said.  “But what do we do now?”

“If I understand correctly, he won’t find your portal when I bring him to those woods by the Fitton place,” Dad said.  “Will that make him suspicious?  Or will he give up and go back to Boston?  In which case the boys can just hide out until he’s gone.”

“I think it unlikely he’ll return to Boston without doing a thorough search for the portal,” the professor replied.  “Even without the boys, he and the president will be interested in what they can glean from the device itself–although it will be precious little, I imagine.”

“If the lieutenant stays here, he’s bound to find out that we were at the celebration tonight,” I pointed out.  “Everyone saw us there.  So he’ll know Dad’s story was a lie.”

“We have to look for the portal,” Kevin said.  “Right away, before he comes back.  If we wait around we’ll get caught.  I just know it.”

Looking for an invisible needle in the dark.  In a snowstorm.  Good luck to us, I thought.  “We’ll have a better chance of finding it if we wait till dawn,” I said. 

“Larry’s right, I’m afraid,” Dad replied.  “Even finding the Post Road won’t be easy right now.”

Kevin looked like he was ready to go off through the snow on foot, but he calmed down.  “All right,” he said.  “Dawn.”  He went over to look out the window. 

I felt really sorry for him.  Even in daylight, what were the odds we’d find the thing, with what the preacher had told me? 

Mom brought us some cider, and I sat back down by the fire.  I wasn’t sleepy anymore.  It was time to get this over with, one way or the other. 

No one wanted to talk now.  The professor nodded off once in a while, but the rest of us stayed wide awake.  It didn’t seem very long at all before Kevin said, “It’s brightening out there.”  Dad went over and checked, nodded his agreement, and said, “I’ll hitch up Gretel.”

Kevin stood up.  “Let’s go home,” he said to me.

Portal, an online novel: Chapter 33

Chapter 32: Larry finally meets the preacher from the Burger Queen world once again. The preacher explains a bit about the portal, although he thinks that’s a dumb name for the thing.  He too is just a traveler, part of a kind of priesthood that uses the portal to visit different worlds and impart wisdom.  He gives Larry some enigmatic advice about how to get home, and then he disappears — just as Kevin arrives to tell Larry that Stinky has snitched on them to Lieutenant Carmody, who is on his way to Glanbury to prevent them from returning to their world.  What else can go wrong?


Chapter 33

“We have to go,” Kevin said as we hurried along the dark corridor to the church hall.  “We have to get to the portal before Carmody finds us.”

“Well, we might have a problem there.”

“I don’t care if it’s snowing, Larry.  I don’t care if it’s a hurricane.  We finally know where the portal is.  We’re going.”

We entered the hall, which was almost overpoweringly warm and bright after being in the church and outside in the snow.  The musicians were taking a break.  Stinky was standing by the fireplace, looking guilty.  We went over to him.  “What’s going on, Julian?” I demanded.

“I’m sorry, Lawrence,” he said.  “Really I am.  If I’d known, I never would have done it.”

“I don’t understand.  Start at the beginning.”

He took a deep breath.  “Well, see, it started with Sergeant Hornbeam,” he said.

“Hornbeam?  What about him?”

“You remember how I did favors for the soldiers at the camp?  I was just trying to survive, you know–get some extra food once in a while.  There wasn’t anything bad about it.”

“I remember.  What about Sergeant Hornbeam?”

“Well, one day he asked me to look after you.  He said you were important to the army–he wouldn’t say why–and you’d started showing up at the camp.  He wanted to make sure nothing bad happened to you.”

“Wait–so when you rescued me from those kids who stole my coat–”

“Hornbeam had told me to follow you,” Stinky admitted.  “But I was glad to do it!  Then I didn’t see you again until the morning after the battle.”

“That was on orders, too?”

He nodded.  “After the battle I talked my way past the guards to get into the army camp.  I was just looking for a meal and a cot.  I had no idea you were there.  But I ran into Sergeant Hornbeam again, and he told me to stay with the two of you and keep you safe.  He said if I did a good job he’d see to it that I got out of my ‘prenticeship so I could join the army.

“And I did do a good job–didn’t I?  I kept you alive.  I got you to Glanbury.  And it wasn’t just a job–I liked you.  You became my mates.”

“Gimme a break,” Kevin muttered.

Stinky gave Kevin a look that suggested they were no longer quite so matey.  “So why did you leave?” I asked.

“Well, you know how it was.  The war was over.  I couldn’t stay with you forever–my master was in town and searching for me.  I surely didn’t want to run into him.  So I made my way back to Boston and started looking for Sergeant Hornbeam.  I found him finally, and he brought me to a lieutenant at headquarters–”

“Carmody,” I said.

Stinky nodded.  “And he was awfully excited to find out you were alive.  But he seemed worried that you’d escape again.  I heard him talking to the sergeant, and he said, ‘Why haven’t they found it?’ or something like that.  ‘We’ve got to catch them before they get away for good.'”

Stinky looked at me pleadingly.  “Lawrence, I don’t know what you fellows did and I don’t want to know.  There’s a lot I don’t understand.  I never really believed the stories you told me–about being orphans and such.  But I never meant to hurt you.  So after I spoke to the lieutenant, I decided I couldn’t stay in Boston, even though Sergeant Hornbeam said he was going to take care of me.  I came right back to Glanbury to warn you–got a ride from a peddler part of the way, and I walked the rest.  I figured I’d find you here.”

“So when is he coming?”

“I don’t know,” Stinky admitted.  “But I don’t imagine he’ll delay.”

“It doesn’t matter what he imagines,” Kevin said to me.  “We have to go.”

“I’ve never had many friends,” Stinky said.  By now he looked like he was about to cry.  “When I met you, I thought perhaps–”

“It’s all right, Julian,” I said.  “Really.  I’m grateful you came all the way back here to warn us.”

“If there’s anything more I can do . . . ”

“You’ve done enough.  Thank you.”

We left him and went to find my parents.  “Don’t see why you were so nice to him,” Kevin muttered.

“Don’t see why you treated him like a jerk.  But listen.  The preacher showed up–that’s who I was chasing after.  The thing is, he said he moved the portal.”


“Just to the other side of the road–but that might explain why we never found it.  But I don’t know–talking to him is like talking to Yoda or something.  Everything’s a riddle, except when he’s calling us stupid kids.”

Kevin looked like he wanted to shoot somebody.  “Your parents over there,” he said.  “Did you explain to them–?”

“They know about us and the portal,” I said.  “They don’t know this last bit, though.”

My parents were talking to each other across the room.  We made our way over to them.  “Things are getting complicated,” I said.  I began by summarizing what Stinky had told us.

Dad was outraged.  “No one can force you to stay here,” he said.  “That lieutenant can’t just kidnap you.  This isn’t New Portugal.  There are laws.  If you don’t want to stay, you don’t have to.”

I was pretty sure he underestimated Lieutenant Carmody’s power, but still it felt good to have him on our side.  “The thing is,” I said, “we need to find the portal before he stops us.”

“Well, the snow isn’t going to help, but the Fitton place isn’t far.”

“I know, except the portal might not be where we think.”  And I explained what I’d learned from the preacher.

“This is baffling,” Dad replied.  “What do we do?”

“I think we need to go home right now and figure this out,” my mother said.

That seemed like a pretty good idea.  “Very well,” Dad said.  “I’ll go fetch Matthew.”

He went searching for Matthew, and while he did Sarah Lally came up to us, looking flushed and happy.  “It’s such a wonderful party, don’t you think?” she said.

I hadn’t had a second to enjoy it.  But I said sure, it was great.

“I was rather hoping you’d ask me to dance, Larry,” she murmured, looking down at the floor.

Nothing would have made me happier, but Kevin would have killed me if we delayed leaving so I could dance with her.  “I’m so sorry, Sarah,” I replied, “but something’s come up, and we all have to go home.”

Her eyes crinkled with disappointment.  “So soon?  No one’s ill, I hope?”

“No, it’s just that–”  I didn’t know what to say, so Mom jumped in.

“Actually, Mr. Barnes is quite tired,” she said.  “He’s just back from the war, you know.”

“Oh, of course,” Sarah said quickly.  “Forgive me.  Perhaps you’ll come visit me later this week, Larry?”

“I’ll try, Sarah.  I’ll try.”

She reached out and squeezed my hand.  I squeezed back, and then she walked away.  “It’s wonderful having you here, Larry,” she called out over her shoulder.

I smiled at her.  “Get a grip,” Kevin said to me.

Meanwhile Dad had grabbed Matthew, who was really upset about having to leave so soon.  “Can’t we stay for a half hour more?” he pleaded.

Dad shook his head.  “We have to go now.  I’m sorry.  Let’s get our coats.”

A couple of minutes later we had said our goodbyes and were outside, climbing into the wagon.  The snow was coming down even harder now, with a strong wind swirling it all around us.  Mom put her arm around Matthew, who buried his face in her coat.  We had a lantern, but its flickering light didn’t penetrate far through the storm.  “Travel won’t be easy,” my father muttered.  He flicked the reins, and Gretel set out.

This is all going way too fast, I thought.  I needed more time to think things through, but I wasn’t getting any.  I looked at Kevin, who was sitting next to me, nervously glancing around as if he was expecting Carmody to appear out of the darkness.

I thought about telling him the one good thing the preacher had said: that the portal would take us home.

Except even that wasn’t very clear.  If you want to go home, the portal will take you home.  That would work for Kevin, certainly.  But what about me?  What if the portal read my mind or something and decided I didn’t really want to go home?  Would I end up somewhere else?  Back here?  Why wouldn’t the guy give me a straight answer?  For someone who traveled to different universes handing out wisdom, he sure didn’t seem to have a whole lot of social skills.

“I don’t know, lads,” my father called out.  “It’ll be all we can do to get back to the farmhouse in this weather.”

He was right.  We could barely see the road now, and Gretel was straining to make her way.  How much worse was it going to be after a few more miles of travel?  And how were we going to find an invisible portal in the woods in this mess?  I looked at Kevin again.  He just looked glum and stayed silent.

“Mr. Barnes can take you at first light,” Mom said.

“Where are they going?” Matthew asked.

“We’ll explain later,” Mom said.

At least Lieutenant Carmody was going to have as much difficulty in the storm as we were having, I thought.  It was hard for my father to find the turn into the lane leading to the farmhouse.  But Gretel seemed to know the way, and finally we pulled silently up toward the house.

“Did you leave a lantern burning, Henry?” Mom asked.

“Of course not,” Dad replied.

We all stared at the light shining in the window.  As we got closer, we saw a horse and carriage tied up by the front door.  “Let’s get out of here,” Kevin said to me, and he got ready to jump out of the wagon.

“Don’t, lad,” Dad said.  “You won’t survive in the storm.”

“He’s not going to capture us,” Kevin replied.  “Come on, Larry.”

“Who’s not going to capture you?” Matthew demanded.  “What’s going on?”

“That’s not the lieutenant’s carriage,” I pointed out.

Just then the door opened, and a single figure stepped out into the night.  I breathed a sigh of relief and joy.

It was Professor Palmer.

Portal, an online novel: Chapter 32

Chapter 31: Larry and Kevin go to the Christmas Eve celebration with the Barnes family.  And there they run into the Harper family, who rescued them from the New Portuguese soldiers when they first arrived in this world.  The Harpers remember exactly where they had seen the two boys running out of the woods, and suddenly the mystery of where the portal is has been solved.  But now, in the church sanctuary, Larry has to have the conversation he has been dreading with his parents — explaining who he really is and where he comes from.  They believe him — it’s like his mother had known all along — and she tells him he has to go back to his own world.  To his real mother.  They leave him to think about it.  And as he does, a man steps forward from the back of the church and asks for his coat back.


Chapter 32

Soft voice, black beard, glittering eyes.

The preacher from the Burger Queen world, from the park in Boston.  The guy who had left behind his coat for me.  The guy who had told me it was all his fault.

“Who are you?” I demanded.  I moved a little closer to him.  He was wearing a ragged brown coat now.  His hair was wet from the snow.

“A traveler, like you,” he replied, still standing in the doorway.

“What do you want?”

He shook his head.  “A better question might be: What do you want?”

“I want to know why you’re following me.  I want to know what you know that I don’t.”

“I wouldn’t say that I’m following you,” he said.  “It’s more that . . . our paths have crossed.”

“Whatever.  The portal–is that your machine?”

“‘Portal’–is that what you call it?  Kind of clichéd, don’t you think?  Couldn’t you come up with something more original?  ‘Cosmic gateway’–what about that?”

I was starting to get angry.  “You didn’t answer my question–you’re not answering any of my questions.”

He smiled sheepishly.  “I know,” he said.  “It’s kind of a habit.  We’re not really supposed to answer questions.”

“Who is ‘we’?” I almost shouted.

“Okay, okay,” he said.  “Just calm down.  I guess I can make an exception for you.  You’ve had a tough time of it.  And it wasn’t like you meant any harm.  You were just, you know, stupid.”

I was so upset by now that I thought I might go over and start pounding him.  But I managed to stay quiet, and he kept talking.

“So no, the portal, or the cosmic gateway, or whatever, isn’t mine, and it isn’t exactly a machine–at least, not in the way you think of machines.  I just borrow it for my travels.  Like you, except not so stupid.  Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to set foot inside invisible gizmos from other universes?  That would be, like, rule number one if I were a parent.”

I ignored the insult.  “So what is it?”  I demanded.  “Where does it come from?”

“Okay, that one I really don’t know the answer to.  There are lots of universes, right?  You know that now, of course.  Imagine one where people have advanced way beyond anything you can imagine, if that makes any sense.  So they develop these portals.  And then they disappear.  At least–none of us know has a clue where to find them.”

Portals–there’s more than one of them?”

“Uh-huh.  Or maybe they’re all manifestations of a single underlying entity.  Who knows?”

I had no idea what that last part meant, but I had another question.  “You keep saying ‘we’, ‘us’–are you from my universe?  Is there more than one of you?”

“No, I’m from a different universe–although it’s not all that different, and I’ve visited yours from time to time–yours needs a lot of help, if you ask me.  Anyway, there’s a group of us who use the portal.  You might call us a priesthood.”

“Priesthood?  You’re part of a religion?”

He tilted his head and thought for a moment.  “Not in the way you’d think of it,” he replied.  “We don’t have a set of beliefs.  We’re not trying to convert anyone.  We just want to impart some wisdom.”

“So you just, like, travel around to different universes and give sermons and stuff?”

He looked insulted.  “Well, yes,” he said, “but–”

“Don’t you help people?  I mean, like, this world.  What if you could cure drikana?  Would you do it?”

He shook his head.  “It’s forbidden.  Simply coming to a world, simply crushing a blade of grass underfoot, is interference enough.  We don’t tell anyone who we are or where we come from.  We just say what we have to say, and then leave.”

I thought of giving President Gardner the Heimlich maneuver.  If someone’s dying, you try to save him.  “But that’s crazy,” I said.  “That’s–immoral.”

“If we save one life, why not save all of them?” he argued.  “We’re just visitors.  Who are we to decide who lives and who dies?  It’s a small step from that to teaching people how to build better bombs–or electric fences.  Look, what’s most important is to guard against the corruption of power.  That’s something we face every day.  Any of us could become ruler of a run-of-the-mill world like this–we could be worshipped as gods–by using a tenth of what we know.  Does that make any sense to you?”

I supposed that it did, but I had more important things I needed to learn from him.  “How did you know who I was?” I asked.  “Even on that other world it seemed like you could tell I was–I was an outsider.  You knew I had come in the portal.  Didn’t you?”

He smiled.  “Sure.  It’s not really that hard, after you have some experience.  What’s obvious to us may not be at all obvious to anyone else, of course.”

“So more people use the portals than just you guys?”

“Yes, unfortunately.  People like you.  Random travelers.  And observing the bad results of their interference has made us develop our own rules.”

“So am I in trouble or something?  I’ve broken your rules.”

He shook his head.  “Not at all.  We live by our rules.  Others do as they please.”

That was a relief.  But I still hadn’t gotten to the really important question.  “Can you tell me–can we get home in the portal?” I asked.  “We’ve been looking for it, and now we think we know where it is.  But we don’t know where it will take us.”

“Do you want to go home?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.  “This is home too, sort of.  But maybe it’d be easier to make a decision if I wasn’t worried that we’d end up on a world where we’d be eaten by dinosaurs or something.”

“I understand,” he replied.  Then he was silent for a long time.  “Listen,” he said finally.  “I’m not trying to make things difficult for you–really I’m not.  I shouldn’t have left the portal in the woods like that in your world.  It was too close to an inhabited area, I admit it.  If kids find invisible cosmic gateways, they’re going to use them.  We know that.  So I’m trying to help you out.  But I’m just not supposed to answer stuff like that.  So here’s the best I can do: If you want to go home, the portal will take you home.”

I couldn’t tell if that was an answer or not.  So I said, “You once said: It is only by setting out that we can finally return home.  Were you talking to me when you said that?”

He shrugged.  “I was talking to whoever would listen.”

“Well then, what should I do: Should I stay here, or should I go back to where I came from?”

“Ah,” he said softly.  “Now there’s a question I can answer.  Sort of.  The answer is: Listen only to your own heart.  It’ll tell you what to do.

I should have known that was the sort of thing he’d say.

“One final thing,” he added.  “The portal?  I don’t really think you know where it is.  I moved it across the road.  Too many people in the woods near the Fitton farmhouse.  I’m trying to learn my lesson.”

Then I heard a door open behind me.  I turned and saw Kevin standing there, looking upset.  “Where have you been?” he demanded.  “Who are you talking to?”

“I’ve been right here,” I said.  “Talking to–”  I turned back to the preacher, but of course he was gone.  The front door to the church was open.  I went outside and looked around, but I couldn’t spot him.  There were tracks in the snow.  I followed them, down the walkway to the street.  “Come back here!” I shouted into the night.  “You can’t just leave like that!”

I tripped and fell on the street, and when I got up I couldn’t find the tracks, and I couldn’t find him.  “Come on!” I shouted again.  “Please help us!”

Kevin came up behind me.  “What the heck is going on?” he asked.

“The–the preacher–the stupid preacher–”  I was too mad to explain.

“Doesn’t matter,” Kevin interrupted.  “You’ve gotta come with me.  Right now.”

“Why?  What happened?”

“Stinky’s a snitch–he’s been a snitch all along.  He went back to Boston and told the lieutenant where we were, and Carmody’s coming to get us.  Let’s go.”

Swell, I thought.  What else could go wrong?  I followed Kevin back into the church hall.

Portal, an online novel: Chapter 31

Chapter 30: Larry’s father has finally returned from the army.  Kevin and Larry are, awkwardly, a part of the homecoming.  Mr. Barnes tells the story of the final defeat of Canada.  Tomorrow is Christmas Eve — when the town will be celebrating New England’s victory.  With his father’s return, Larry’s trip to Boston is off.  But what does their future hold?  Life might be good in this world, but things will never be the same.

I feel as though we’re heading towards the climax, don’t you?


Chapter 31

Christmas Eve.  It was a strange morning.  The family was so happy; it was so sad.  After breakfast Mom and Dad went to visit Cassie’s grave, and they spent a long time there.  Matthew, meanwhile, wanted to know if Kevin and I were staying.

“We’ll certainly stay for the celebration tonight,” I said.

“But you can live here forever,” he pointed out.  “Don’t you want to?”

“I don’t know, Matthew.  It’s complicated.  We’ll see.”

Matthew didn’t look satisfied.

When they got back from the grave, Mom said Dad would take her to town so she could help out with the preparations at the church hall.  “I understand you were going to Boston today,” Dad said to us.  “I think it’s wise to handle that business as soon as possible.  Perhaps we can take you tomorrow.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said.

He gave me kind of a puzzled look, and I knew he remembered what I’d said to him last night.  But he didn’t say anything.  Instead he went to hitch up Gretel while Mom got ready to go to town.  Matthew decided to go with them, so after they left Kevin and I were by ourselves for a while.  I went outside to chop some firewood, and Kevin joined me.  The day was cold and gray, and it felt like snow was coming.  A white Christmas, maybe.  I was nervous, although I couldn’t exactly say why.  “Something’s going to happen,” I said to Kevin.  “You feel it?”

“Yeah,” he replied.  “Maybe we should look for the portal.  If there’s a blizzard, who knows when we’ll have another chance?”

“You go ahead.  I want to finish chopping this wood.”

Kevin just shook his head and continued to sit on a stump while I worked.

When Dad and Matthew got back, Matthew was worried, too.  “We don’t know where Julian is,” he told us.

“He said he was going back to his master,” I said.  “You know, Mr.–uh–”

“Kincaid,” Dad said.  “We met Kincaid at the church hall.  He hasn’t seen Julian since they were in the camp.”

“Well,” I said, “I don’t think he liked Mr. Kincaid very much. Maybe he just decided he wanted to do something else.”

“Kincaid’s a hard man,” Dad pointed out.  “He’ll have the law on Julian if he tries to leave his apprenticeship.”

“I miss Julian,” Matthew said.

I did, too.  I didn’t know why, but finding out that he’d disappeared made me even more nervous.

In the afternoon Dad went around the farm in that deliberate way of his, taking stock of what needed to be done.  “You boys have helped a great deal,” he remarked afterwards.  “I was very concerned about how Mrs. Barnes would make out by herself.  It seems that I needn’t have been so worried.”  Dad wasn’t much on handing out compliments, so that was a big one, coming from him.

“We were happy to pitch in,” I said.

He nodded.  “Still, it’s strange that you decided to come here when your father died.  Now how did you say you were related to Mrs. Barnes?”

Dad was a lot harder to lie to than Mom.  “I didn’t, sir,” I said.  “I’m really not sure.”

He nodded again, and I felt like he saw right through me.  But if he didn’t believe me, he certainly couldn’t imagine what the truth was.  Anyway, he didn’t interrogate me any further, and pretty soon it was time to get ready for the celebration.

Matthew slicked back his hair and put on his best blue shirt.  Dad trimmed his beard and wore a white ruffled shirt and la ong dark coat.  Kevin and I just had our usual clothes–but at least they were clean.

I wondered what Sarah Lally would be wearing.

There were a few snowflakes falling when we started out.  Dad shook his head.  “Hope this doesn’t get any worse,” he murmured.

Matthew was so excited he started to sing.

The church hall was stuck onto the back of the church, up on the little hill overlooking the town center.  When we got there wagons and carriages were already lined up in front of it, with the horses shifting and stamping their feet in the cold.  We left our wagon with the others and hurried inside.  The place was blazing with light–I hadn’t seen a room so bright since the first time I’d been to Coolidge Palace.  In one corner, musicians were playing a violin, an accordion, and a piano, and in the middle of the floor couples were doing one of those complicated dances where everyone’s moving around and switching partners and ducking in and out of lines.  Red-white-and-blue striped ribbons and flags hung from the ceiling.  There was a roaring fire in the big fireplace, and the mantel over the fireplace was decorated with pine boughs and holly; the boughs made the room smell like Christmas, even if that’s not what we were celebrating.  Along the far wall were tables piled with turkey and venison and ham and vegetables and loaves of bread and cakes . . .  It was amazing.

Mom was behind one of the tables, helping to serve the food.  She waved to us when we came in.  Other people started coming over to greet Dad, and Matthew ran off to join his friends.  Sarah Lally was dancing, but she spotted me and waved too.  She was wearing a bright green dress and had a green bow in her hair, and she looked gorgeous.  I grinned and waved back.

“Great music, huh?” I said to Kevin.

“I thought Matthew said Stinky was missing,” he replied.  “Look, he’s right over there, stuffing his face.”

Sure enough, Stinky was standing next to one of the food tables, eating from a very full plate.  When he noticed us, his eyes widened and he put the plate down.  “That’s odd,” I remarked.  “Let’s go find out what’s up.”

The music stopped just then, and I was thinking I’d rather go talk to Sarah than to Stinky.  And that’s when I heard a little voice behind me say, “Look, Mama, the boys from the woods.”

The voice sounded familiar, so I turned, and I found myself staring into the faces of the Harper family.

The Harper family–Samuel and Martha, with their little boy and girl.  The family that had saved Kevin and me from the Portuguese when we stumbled out of the portal so long ago.  The ones who had driven us into Boston when we were friendless and clueless in this world, and I was still worried about the piano lesson I was missing.

It was the little girl who had spoken–was her name Rachel?–the one who thought Kevin had been in the navy because he was wearing an Old Navy t-shirt.  They were all looking at us, though.  And so was my father, who must have been talking to them.

“Bless the Lord,” Martha said, “I’m so glad you boys are safe.  I’ve often thought of you since that day we took you to Boston.”

“I never did understand where you came from,” Samuel said, still grumpy at us.  “First your family was murdered, then they weren’t murdered . . . Where did you say you were from?  America, was it?  Never heard of the place.”

“I don’t understand any of this,” my father put in.  “What woods?  What murder?”

“Where’s your watch?” the boy asked Kevin.  “Do you still have that watch?”

Kevin shook his head sadly.  And then his face lit up–you could almost see the lightbulb going off over his head, like in the comics. “Do any of you happen to remember,” he asked, “when we came out of the woods and you picked us up on the Post Road–where was that, exactly?”

Samuel and Martha looked at each other.  “It was just past Joshua Fitton’s place, wasn’t it, Martha?” Samuel said.

Martha nodded.  “Yes, certainly it was.  I remember seeing the smoke from the house, and we heard the Portuguese soldiers shouting to each other in the woods, and we were sure we’d left too late and be captured.  And then you two boys came running out of the woods on the other side of the road.  We didn’t know what to make of you.”

“Thought you were pirates, or spies,” Samuel said.  “Those strange clothes.  Those accents.  You don’t have so much of an accent now.”

“The Fitton place,” Kevin repeated.

“Yes, about three miles past the Barnes’ farm along the Post Road,” Samuel said.  “You know where it is, don’t you, Henry?”

“Of course I know the Fitton place,” Dad said.  “But what the deuce is this all about?”

“I can explain,” I said softly.

Everyone looked at me.

“Well, um, I need to talk to Mr. Barnes–and Mrs. Barnes–in private.”

Dad nodded slowly.  “I believe that would be a good idea.”

I turned to Kevin.  He looked so happy.  He didn’t care about anything except the Fitton place.  He knew exactly where to look for the portal now.  “Want to come?” I asked.

“Sure.  Whatever.”

We started to walk off with my father, but all of a sudden Stinky was standing in front of us, still looking upset.  “Larry, we need to talk,” he said.

I had more important things to do now than talking to him.  “Later, Julian.  I’m kind of busy.”

“But it’s important,” he insisted.

I shrugged.  Nothing I could do about it.

“I’ll talk to him,” Kevin said.  “You go on with Mr. Barnes.”

That worked for me.  Stinky still looked upset, but he went off with Kevin.  Dad and I made our way to the food tables.  Mom smiled at us.  “Look at this food,” she said happily.  “Two months ago, could you ever have imagined it?”

“Emma,” Dad replied, “Larry would like to speak to us in private.”

Mom’s brow furrowed.  “Is anything the matter?” she asked me.

I shook my head.  “Nothing’s the matter.  It’s just–we need to talk.”

“Oh.”  Mom set down the platter she’d been holding and looked around.  “Yes,” she said.  “Well, then.  Why don’t we go into the church?”

She acted as if she had been expecting this conversation.

I followed them through a door and along a short corridor that connected the hall to the church.  The church was cold and dark. Through the tall windows along the sides I could see snow falling.  Mom lit a lamp while Dad threw a couple of logs into an iron stove.  The walls were plain white, and there was a simple pulpit at the front.  I sat in the first pew.  Mom and Dad sat opposite me, on the steps to the pulpit.  Waiting.

I wished I had Kevin’s watch.  That would at least give me a way of starting, something they could examine and touch and use.  It had worked with Professor Palmer and Lieutenant Carmody, and it was the kind of thing that would work with my Dad.  But I had nothing, if you didn’t count my sneakers and my pants with their amazing zipper.  Nothing but my words.

What words could I use?

“There are other worlds,” I began.  “Not just this one.  And these worlds have other Bostons in them, other Glanburies.  I don’t understand why or how, only I guess–if God could make one universe, why couldn’t He make lots of them?  The thing is: Kevin and I come from one of those other worlds.  It’s a lot like this one, but, you know, different–sometimes in little ways, sometimes in big ones.  Like these sneakers and our clothes–they’re not from China, like I told you.  They’re what we wear at home.  In this other world.”

Here’s one thing I like about my Dad: he takes you seriously.  Matthew will start explaining one of his stupid ideas about why we have hair or who invented checkers or something–just to hear himself talk, I think–and Dad will sit there and listen and nod and occasionally ask a question, like Matthew is some sort of expert on  hair or checkers.  He might smile a little bit, but he never tells Matthew to put a sock in it.  Same thing with Cassie when she starts complaining about how awful her life is.  Afterwards she complains that Dad never does anything to solve her problems, but just listening is a whole lot more than I’d do when she starts up.

So I guess I shouldn’t have worried that he’d laugh at me or something when I started the explanation.  Instead he nodded like I was making perfect sense and said, “You’re not talking about heaven and hell, I take it.  You’re talking about, er, real worlds.”


“And why don’t we know about these worlds?”

“Well, because you don’t know how to travel between them.”

“But you do.”

“That’s right,” I said.  “Or, well, somebody does.  Kevin and I just happened to–see, we found a–a device, a machine.  We call it a portal.  We don’t know who made it or why–it’s probably not even from our world.  It was just sitting there in the woods behind my house–except, well, it’s invisible.  Anyway, we got in it and just kind of like stepped through it, and we were here.  By mistake.  That’s when the Harpers saw us–we’d just gotten out of the portal, and the Portuguese soldiers were chasing us, and we couldn’t get back to it.  So we sort of ended up, you know, stuck here.”

“An invisible machine,” Dad said.  Again, not sarcastically, but like he was just trying to understand.

“And that’s what Kevin is looking for when he goes off walking along the Post Road by himself?” Mom asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied.  “He’s trying to get home.”

“And this other business,” Dad said, “about your father being a professor and dying in the war–you made all that up?”

“Well, yeah.  Except there really is a professor.”  And then I explained some of what happened to Kevin and me after the Harpers brought us to Boston.  I left out about Kevin’s drikana.  And I left out the–well, the complicated part, about why I was talking to them about all this instead of anyone else in this world.  Not that I was going to be able to avoid that part for long.

Dad kept nodding, as if this was the sort of thing kids told him every day.  “So you’re responsible for those airships and that fence–is that what you’re saying?”

“Well, more or less.  On our world there are inventions that are much more amazing than those things, but there wasn’t time to figure out how to build them here.”  I didn’t really want to talk about computers and telephones and stuff like that–it would just make things more difficult to believe.

“But this still doesn’t make sense, does it?” Dad said.  “Why did you come to the Fens camp?  Why were you looking for us?”

That was the complicated part.  But strangely, I didn’t have to explain.  Mom understood.  “Larry hasn’t really finished describing his world,” she said.  “Have you, Larry?”

“No, ma’am.”

She was staring at me hard, the way she had in the camp when I first gave that confusing lie about who I was.  And then Dad got it.  “‘Dad’, you called me last night,” he said.  “Not a word we use much in these parts.  But I’ve heard it.  I know what it means.”

I nodded.  “Some people exist in both worlds.  They’re different in lots of ways–different jobs, different homes.  But they’re basically the same.”

“And you’re saying that–that we’re there in this other world?” Dad said.

“Yes.  And Cassie, and Matthew.  And me–I was part of the family too.  And that’s why I went looking for you in the camp.  And that’s why I was so happy to find you.  I had found my family.”

I fell silent and waited for a response.  Dad couldn’t just act like he was taking me seriously; he had to make a decision.  He had to believe, or not believe.  He’s logical; he’s a computer programmer.  Professor Palmer had talked about Occam’s Razor–I could almost see Dad struggling to use it on my story.  “Larry,” he said finally, “this is very interesting and, well, moving, but you’ll have to admit it’s a bizarre tale.  You’re saying that–that you’re the son we buried as an infant.  Still alive, grown up to be a young man.”

“Yes, sir, that’s what I’m saying.  I’m your son on another world, where medicine is better, and they can cure fevers and consumption and smallpox.  I didn’t die of whatever killed me here.  I’m just a regular boy who goes to school and has an older sister who complains too much and a younger brother who talks too much.  And a wonderful mother who worries about all of us all the time.”

“Well frankly, I don’t see how you can expect us to–”

As he spoke I realized that he wasn’t the one I needed to be talking to.  “Do you believe me?” I asked Mom.

She was gripping Dad’s arm now.  A single tear worked its way down her cheek.  “Of course I do, Larry,” she whispered.  “Of course I do.”

Dad turned to her.  “Emma,” he said, “I know how grateful you are to Larry, but–”

She shook her head.  “No, that’s not it.  I know him, Henry.  I know him.  I couldn’t understand it–couldn’t understand this feeling I had when I looked at him, when I talked to him–but now I do.  He’s our son.  He’s my baby.  I don’t understand anything more, and I don’t need to.”

We were silent again.  I could hear the ticking of the clock on the rear wall of the church, and the distant sound of the joyful music from the church hall.

“I suppose we’ll find out the truth of it soon enough,” Dad said to me.  “If this–this portal is still there by Joshua Fitton’s farm, we should be able to find it, invisible or not.  And then you can use it go home.”

Home.  All those conversations with Kevin, and now the moment had arrived.

“Well . . . I don’t know,” I said.

“What do you mean?” he asked.  “What don’t you know?”

“See, I was thinking of staying.  You know, to help you out.  There’s a lot I don’t know about farming and stuff, but I can learn.  I can be part of this family too.  I feel like–like I already am.”

I hadn’t known I was going to say that.  I had thought about it a lot, but I hadn’t ever really decided.  Now, there it was.

But instead of acting all happy, Mom was shaking her head.  “You have to go home, Larry.  I love you, but you can’t stay here.”

“Trying to go home could be dangerous,” I pointed out.  “We don’t even know if the portal will take us home.  We might end up in some universe where the Earth doesn’t even exist.  Kevin is willing to take the risk–he doesn’t have a family here.  But I have you, and I don’t want to give you up.”

I could tell the idea of the danger bothered Mom, but it wasn’t enough to change her mind.  “If–if I’m there, too, imagine how much I miss you.  Every moment of every day, Larry.  Wondering where my baby went.”

So I guess I hadn’t really thought it through.  I thought maybe they wouldn’t believe me and I’d have to convince them, but once they were convinced they’d be happy to have me stay.  I could see now how stupid that was.  In reality, Mom loved me so much that she had to let me go.

But she couldn’t force me to go.  If I stayed here, she might feel guilty, but she’d get over it.  And for all I knew, maybe we could figure out how to come back here in the portal, and I could be part of both worlds.  It was possible, wasn’t it?

“I don’t know,” I said.  “I don’t want to leave you, now that I’ve found you.”

“I understand, Larry,” she replied.  “I don’t want you to leave either.  But you have to.  And I’m sure you know it.  Take some time to think it over.”  She stood up.  “For now, why don’t we go back to the hall?” she said.  “Really, we have much to celebrate.”

“Do you mind if I stay here for a while?” I said.  “Maybe I do need to think about things.”

Mom shook her head and put her hand on my arm.  “That is very wise, Larry.”

Dad stood up too.  “I certainly want to talk more with you, Larry,” he said.  “But perhaps this is enough for now.”

I nodded and watched the two of them as they walked out of the church.  Then I leaned back in the pew and closed my eyes.  Now what?  Kevin would want to head off to look for the portal as soon as possible–he’d do it right now if he could.  So should I obey my mother and go with him?  Go back to a world where I didn’t matter, where our family argued morning and night and the schoolbus was a nightmare and I never learned or did a single thing that was really important, that really made a difference?

Where my mother missed me every moment of every day?

I tried to pray.  I’ve never been good at praying, but now seemed like a pretty good time to ask for help.  So I did.

I don’t know how long I sat there.  When I finally opened my eyes, the lamp was burning low and I knew I should get back to the church hall.  I stood up.  And that’s when I heard the noise behind me.

It was–well–it was a quiet noise.  A rustle, a breath.  I wasn’t really sure I had heard anything.  But I turned, and in the dimness I saw the outline of a figure standing at the back of the church.

My heart started thumping.  “Who are you?” I whispered.

“I really could use that coat back,” the figure replied.  And he took a step forward.

Portal, an online novel: Chapter 28

Chapter 27: Well, that was a bummer.  Kevin, Larry, and Stinky Glover make it back to Glanbury and move into the Barnes farmhouse.  Kevin and Larry look for the portal without success.  In a snowstorm they run into Larry’s Mom and brother coming home from Boston in their cart.  And in the back of the cart is his sister Cassie’s dead body.

Why do writers think they can get away with killing characters off like this?  Have they no human decency?

We’re not far from the end now, so I may ramp up the posting of these chapters.  The suspense is killing me.


Chapter 28

Kevin and I walked alongside the wagon as Mom made her way through the snow back to the farmhouse.  She didn’t say anything; she didn’t ask who Kevin was or why we were there in Glanbury.  Even Matthew was quiet, except to complain about how hungry he was.

“We have food,” I said.  “We’ll take care of you.”

Stinky saw the wagon drive up the lane and came out to meet us.  “Julian?” Mom asked, with a puzzled look on her face.

“Just staying with Lawrence, ma’am,” Stinky replied.  “I hope you don’t mind.”

She didn’t respond.  She and Matthew got down from the wagon, and we took them inside and had them sit in front of the fire.  In the kitchen, I explained to Stinky about Cassie.  “Terrible,” he said.  “To live through it all, and then at the very end . . . ”

I nodded.  “They’re going to need all the help we can give them.”

Stinky had already cooked the turkey I had shot yesterday.  We carved it up in the kitchen and brought some out to them.  Mom looked like she didn’t want to eat, but she was too hungry to resist.  Matthew wolfed his food down.  “We’ve had almost nothing to eat for two days,” he said between bites.  “And we don’t know where Papa is or if he’s alive, and Gretel got lame and we thought we might not even make it home, and it’s been terrible, just terrible.”

Mom put her hand on his arm.  “We’re all right now, Matthew,” she murmured.  “Try not to eat to much.  It might make you ill.”

He leaned back against her, but kept eating.

Mom stood up when she had finished.  “We can’t leave her out there,” she said.

Did she want to bring Cassie’s body inside? I thought stupidly. No, she headed out the back door to the barn.  I followed her.  Inside, she found a pick and a shovel.  “Three days she’s awaited a proper burial,” Mom murmured.  “She can’t wait any longer.”

“I’ll help,” I said.  “We’ll all help.”

She stopped and gazed at me the way she had in the camp–puzzled, like she was on the brink of understanding who I really was.  “Thank you,” she said.  “Thank you, Larry.  Finding you here is–is the only good thing that’s happened to us in a long time.”

I took the pick and shovel and followed her back out front.  I set the tools down by the wagon and went inside to get Kevin, Stinky, and Matthew.  Then we all followed behind the wagon as Mom drove it around the farmhouse to the edge of a little patch of woods beyond the barn.  Matthew was sobbing.  Kevin glanced at me a couple of times, but he didn’t say anything.

Mom got down from the wagon and led us into the woods.  We came to a small clearing after a while, and in the middle of the clearing a few crosses stuck up through the snow.  My head started spinning as I stared at those crosses.  Kevin gripped my arm.  Mom pointed to a spot in the snow.  “Cassie needs to go here,” she said.  “Beside her brother.”

I looked at the cross next to where she was pointing.  Two words were crudely carved on it:


Lawrence Barnes


I was staring at my own grave.

“That’s the boy who would have been just about your age,” my mother was saying to me.  “My baby.”

I think maybe I forgot to breathe for a while.  “It’s okay, Larry,” Kevin whispered to me.  “Take it easy.”

Kevin and I’d had talked about what would happen if we ran into our other selves in this world.  Would we both explode, or destroy the fabric of the space-time continuum or something?  Stupid.  We never talked about this.

Nothing happened, of course, except that I was as spooked as I could possibly be.  But I didn’t do anything.  I just stood there in the snow.  I was alive, the earth kept spinning, and that other me–the baby who didn’t make it–was still at rest in the cold ground.

And now we had to lay his sister–my sister–to rest, too.

We took turns using the pick and shovel to dig the hole in the frozen, rocky soil.  I did most of the work, though–Kevin still didn’t have all his strength back, and it wasn’t the sort of task Stinky enjoyed.  It seemed to take forever.  It grew dark, and my muscles were screaming with pain after a while–the most digging I’d ever done was a little bit of snow shoveling, and I’d usually complain about having to do that.  But we kept at it, and at last the time had come.  We lifted Cassie’s body out of the wagon, then slid her down into the ground and covered her up.  After that we stood around the grave as darkness fell and said some prayers, while I felt sorry for every mean thing I’d said to her in every conceivable universe.

“Thank you all,” my mother said at the end.  “God bless you.”

And then we made our way slowly back to the farmhouse.  Stinky took care of Gretel, and Kevin and I hauled in the few possessions Mom and Matthew had brought home in the wagon.

With her duty done, Mom seemed to relax a little.  She looked even older, more worn down than she had in the camp.  But she didn’t cry much, just a few tears.  Mom wasn’t a crier; she was the one who gave comfort, not the one who needed comforting.  She put Matthew to bed–she let him sleep in the downstairs bedroom with her–and then came out to join us in front of the fireplace.

And she asked the questions I knew were coming: “Larry, what happened?  How did you get here?”

As usual I hadn’t thought through my answer, so I just blurted something out.  “My father died, and I had nowhere else to go.”

“Oh no, Larry, what happened?”

What happened?  “He was–he was working with the army.  He had invented this electric fence that would, like, give the enemy soldiers a shock when they tried to climb over it.  He was operating it at the battle with the Portuguese.  And it worked great but–but they shot him.  He died instantly.”  I remembered Professor Foster dropping to the ground, killed in his moment of triumph.

“Oh my poor sweet boy.  Is there no end to these horrors?”

“I didn’t really have anywhere else to go, so I came here,” I continued.  “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind?  Of course not.  Stay as long as you want.  And your friend–”

“Kevin.  He’s, uh, an orphan.  He lived with us.  And Julian–we met him at the army camp, and he helped us get here.  We couldn’t have done it without him.”

I glanced at Stinky.  He didn’t say anything about how a couple of days ago Kevin had told him we lived in an orphanage.  Did he remember?  Of course he did.

“You’re all welcome to our home,” Mom said.  She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.  Stinky threw another log on the fire.

“Can you–can you tell us what happened to Cassie?” I asked.

“Perhaps another time,” she said wearily.

“Sure.  I understand.”

But after a moment she said, “I suppose it might help.  There’s been no one to talk to–just Matthew . . . ”  She paused again, and then began.  “You were there in the camp that last day, Larry.  You saw how wild things were becoming.”

I nodded.  “I barely got out.  Soldiers were firing at people by the main gate.”

“Yes.  We’d endured for so long in the camp, but then–we knew it was ending soon, and it seemed to drive some people mad.”

“Cassie wouldn’t come out of the tent,” I recalled.  “She wouldn’t listen to anyone.”

“Yes, that was Cassie.”  Mom’s eyes got a faraway look, and I imagined she was thinking about all the ways in which Cassie had caused them problems.  Or maybe it was just the opposite.  What do I know?  “Cassie just couldn’t stand it anymore,” she went on.  “Not another day, not another minute.  We all heard the shots by the main gate.  We weren’t sure what had happened.  Twenty people dead, someone said; someone else said a hundred.  And there were other rumors: the gates had been stormed and the guards had fled.  The Canadians were already in the city.  There was a drikana outbreak in the camp.  The wildest things.  Cassie begged me to leave.  But even if I had wanted to, there was no way we could get out of the camp in that madness with a horse and wagon and all our possessions.  ‘Leave them behind,’ she insisted.  ‘It’s all worthless anyway.’

“But I wouldn’t do it.  ‘Let’s wait for the morning,’ I said.  ‘Everyone says the soldiers will be gone by then.’

“She wouldn’t listen to me, though.  She was never–she was never easy.  Not bad, no, but . . . she knew her own mind.  Perhaps if I had tried harder to understand . . . ”

Mom paused then, as if she were thinking about how she could blame herself for Cassie’s death.  “Then what happened?” I asked softly.

“She ran away,” Mom answered.  “She didn’t argue, she just ran, as if she couldn’t stand it another moment.  I told Matthew to go stay with the Lallys and I went after her, but it was so difficult.  It was dark, and all the paths were crowded with people and wagons, and no one would get out of the way.  She didn’t head toward the main gate.  She went to the water station.  I don’t know why–perhaps she thought it wouldn’t be guarded at night.  Perhaps she’d heard that the fence had been torn down, and there was just that little stream to cross.  Or perhaps she had met the guards there and flirted with them, and she thought they would let her pass.

“I almost reached her.  I called out to her, but she just kept going.  I was near a soldier, and he was very young, and I could tell he didn’t know what to do.  Someone else called out ‘Halt!’  She was in the middle of the stream by now.  She paused and looked back.  She saw me, and I called out to her again.  But then she turned and kept going.  And then I heard the shot.”

Mom paused again and stared into the fire.  I wasn’t going to say anything this time.  If she wanted to talk about it, she’d do it when she was ready.

“Cassie went down,” Mom continued at last.  “I kept going after her, through the stream and onto the other side where she was lying.  So why didn’t they shoot me, too?”

I thought she wanted an answer, but I couldn’t think of one.  I guess she was just asking herself, though, because she repeated the question softly, and then went on.  “I held her in my arms, but there was no bringing her back, no bringing her back.  I noticed that the young soldier was standing next to me after a while, and he was crying and saying, ‘Didn’t she understand?  All she had to do was stop.  Why wouldn’t she stop?’

“Because she’s Cassie, I thought.  Don’t you see?  She didn’t think she had to stop for anyone.

“I didn’t want to move, but I couldn’t stay there.  The soldier helped me carry the body back to our wagon.  And then I had to get Matthew and tell him what had happened.  And then . . . ”

Mom put her hands to her face.  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, I thought, making her relive all this stuff.

“If she could have just waited a few more hours,” she said.  “A few hours later, all the guards were gone, heading off to the battle.  It must have been midnight when I heard that, and it wasn’t a rumor this time.  The gates were open, the guards had disappeared, and people were pouring out into the city.  Not that they had anywhere to go in the city.  Not that I cared.  Some of our friends were sitting with me, helping me grieve.  They wanted me to leave with them, but what was the point?  This was where Cassie had died.  Why should I go anywhere else?

“They couldn’t wait finally.  Everyone was leaving.  The camp was emptying out.  But then near dawn Matthew awoke–despite everything, he had finally fallen asleep–and I knew that I had to leave too, I had to get him home if I possibly could.  So I packed the wagon and hitched up Gretel, and we left.”

“Kevin and I were in the camp a little after dawn that day, looking for you,” I said.  “It was pretty empty.”

Mom nodded.  “It was a dismal place, and we were all so tired of it.  People looted the army buildings during the night, then set fire to them.  I think they might have shot the guards if they had found any of them.

“But the city streets were no better–worse, really, because the other Glanbury families were gone, and I had no one to talk to, no one to help me.  That first day I stopped at a church, and the minister took pity on us and gave us a little food.  He offered to bury Cassie in the church’s graveyard, but I couldn’t leave her there–she had to go home too.  Then I tried to get out of the city, but Gretel went lame–poor girl, she’d had no exercise for months.  It’s a wonder she’s still alive.  I don’t know what I would have done if she hadn’t recovered.  Matthew was frantic.  He wanted us to go find his father, but Henry was fighting the Canadians, and we have no idea where he was, or if he was even alive.

“Finally at dawn this morning we started out, praying that Gretel would make it.  She did, thank the Lord.  And now we’re home.  Now we’re home.”

I reached over and put my hand on her arm, the way she liked to do.  She smiled at me and squeezed my hand.  “I never thought I’d see you again,” she said.  “But under such awful circumstances . . . ”

“I’ll help you,” I said.  “We’ll all help you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, and fell silent.

Mom went and joined Matthew in bed a little later.  Stinky fell asleep by the fire.  I was still wide awake.

“That was weird,” Kevin remarked.

“What?  The graveyard?” I said.

“Yeah.  I thought you were going to faint.”

“It did make me a little dizzy,” I admitted. “But in a way, it’s weirder thinking about Cassie.”

“Sounds like she was kind of–you know–the same in both worlds.” Kevin said.

“A pain, you mean. ‘Difficult,’ my dad says.”

“Yeah, I guess.  Not that she deserved to die.”

“For going nuts in that camp?” I said.  “No, she didn’t deserve to die for that.”

“Your mom and Matthew–that’s weird, too.  They look just like, you know . . . ”

“You see what I mean?” I pressed him.  “They aren’t different people.  They are my family.  They’re just . . . here.”

Kevin stared at the fire.  Thinking about the portal and getting home, I supposed.  Thinking about how he had no one here, no Albright family to welcome him.

“We can keep looking for the portal,” I said.  “It’s gotta be out there somewhere.”

“Yeah,” he said.  “Maybe.”  Then he lay down and wrapped the blanket around him.  “Let’s just get some sleep.”

And then there was just me awake in the silent farmhouse.  I had found my family again, but things hadn’t exactly turned out the way I’d wanted them to.  Poor Cassie.  I know she can be difficult, Dad had said to me once, but she’s family.  And that’s the most important thing.  Someday you’ll realize that you love her.

I didn’t know about that.  But I couldn’t help thinking about Cassie.  And, difficult as she was, I couldn’t help wishing she was still alive and giving us all a hard time.  No, she didn’t deserve to die.  And my mom sure didn’t deserve the heartache her death had brought.

I didn’t want to bring her any more heartache.

Portal, an online novel: Chapter 27

Chapter 26: Larry, Kevin, and Stinky meet up with Mrs. Gradger and her daughter as they make their way south towards Glanbury.  They spend the night with at the Gradgers’ house in Weymouth, but Kevin is desperate to keep going and reach Glanbury.  Stinky surprisingly turns down an offer to stay with the Gradgers and continues to accompany the boys on their journey home.


Chapter 27

Home.  Sort of.  Certainly not for Kevin–he wasn’t interested in this Glanbury.  And it didn’t look at all familiar to me.  The North River was in our Glanbury, too, but I hadn’t paid much attention to it.  It wasn’t a very big river.  At least its bridge hadn’t been destroyed.

We crossed the bridge.  Glanbury didn’t look any different from what we had already passed by along the Post Road.  A few shops and houses, but mostly just woods and farmland, and occasionally a road leading off to the east or west.  Just another little town.  I wasn’t surprised that President Gardner hadn’t thought much of it.

Kevin looked around intently, trying to spot the place where we had burst out of the woods with the Portuguese soldiers shooting at us.  It would be on our left–I recalled that much.  But that was about all I remembered.  And if Kevin insisted it was on our right, I’m not sure how strongly I could have argued the point.  Nothing looked familiar to me.  Kevin hesitated once in a while, but he didn’t run off into the woods.  I could sense him getting worried as we walked.

“How far to the Barnes place?” I asked Stinky.

“Another mile or two, I expect.”

I wondered if the farmhouse was where my house was in the other world.  Was that how things worked in these alternate universes?  That would make it easier for us to find the portal–just look in the woods behind the backyard.  But I remembered how confusing the geography of the Burger Queen world had been, and I figured we weren’t going to be that lucky.

I was tired and hungry by now.  Kevin was starting to look pretty worn-out too.  I knew he wanted to keep searching until he found the portal.  But he only had so much energy; it would only be daylight for so long.  It would be tough.

“We turn here,” Stinky said finally, pointing to a road up ahead on the right.  “Go left and the road’ll take us to town and the harbor, go right to the Barnes farm.  It’s a nice little place.”

I looked at Kevin.  He shrugged.  “Let’s go to the farm,” he said.

So we turned off the Post Road, and then took another turn after a while, onto a small lane lined with hedges.  “There it is,” Stinky said.  “Lucky thing, looks like the Portuguese left it alone.  Probably didn’t bother coming this far off the main road.”

The house was small, far less imposing than the Gradgers’, or Professor Palmer’s house in Cambridge.  The red barn behind the house was bigger than house itself was.  Both seemed to be in good shape.  We walked up the lane to the front door.  I knocked.  There was no answer.

“What do you want to do?” Stinky asked.

“Go inside,” I said.  “Start a fire.  Get the place ready for them.”

“You mean just . . . move in?”

I nodded.

“If you say so.”

The door wasn’t locked, so we walked inside.

We found ourselves in a small entryway.  On the left was a long, dark, low-ceilinged room dominated by a big fireplace, with heavy black pots and pans hung next to it.  On the right was a smaller, brighter room with nothing in it but a table and chairs.  We walked into the room with the fireplace.  It led into the kitchen, where there was another table and chairs, and some shelves with pewter plates and cups on them.  Next to the fireplace was a small storage area.  In a corner of the living room was a spinning wheel.  “Home Sweet Home” said a piece of embroidery hung on the wall to our right.


Strangely–or maybe not so strangely–it did feel like home.

Everything was where it should be, where I wanted it to be.  Beyond the room on the right was a bedroom, with a Bible on the nightstand next to the bed.  From there you climbed up a wooden ladder-like set of stairs to an attic, where there were a couple more beds with a curtain between them.  On the floor I saw some wooden toys that probably belonged to Matthew.  I wondered how Cassie put up with Matthew chattering away on the other side of that curtain at bedtime.  In this world, she didn’t have a choice.

We checked out back.  Firewood was stacked neatly by the door.  Beyond it was the well, and on the other side of the yard was the privy.  Everything was simple but solid and clean.  I thought about how my mother always insisted that we keep our rooms tidy.  When we’d whine that the mess didn’t bother us, she’d say, “There’s no excuse for being a slob.”  There wasn’t, really.  I had a lump in my throat when I went back inside.

“Must be pretty weird for you, huh?” Kevin murmured while Stinky brought in firewood.

“It seems so . . . familiar.  How are you doing?”

“All right, I guess.  Pretty wiped.  Do you think the portal’s further south along the main road?”

“Probably.  I haven’t seen anything that looked familiar so far.  But then again, it was so foggy, and we were running for our lives, and–”

“I know.  I remember a bunch of pine trees across the road when we came out of the woods–but there are pine trees all over the place.  Anyway, it can’t be far.  Glanbury’s not that big a town.”

Unless the portal had disappeared back where it came from.  Unless it had moved.  Unless, unless . . .  “It can’t be far,” I agreed.  Kevin didn’t want to hear anything else.

We went and helped Stinky get the fire started.  Then it was time to go hunting for our supper.  Kevin stayed behind again.  He was tired, and besides, he didn’t care about hunting; it wasn’t something he was going to do once he got back home.

So Stinky and I went out with my rifle and his pistol.  We had to tramp through fields where cornstalks drooped, then climb over a long stone wall.  We passed by a small body of water that Stinky was familiar with.  “Amity Pond,” he said.  “Good fishing.  We may be able to catch some trout there.”  And then we headed into the woods past the pond.

This time when we spotted a turkey, Stinky motioned to me to take the shot.  It was a lot different from aiming at an empty Coke can with a BB gun.  Sorry, bird, I thought.  And I pulled the trigger.

The turkey squawked and keeled over.  Stinky clapped me on the back.  “Terrific,” he said.

All I could think of was the soldier with the wispy mustache.  Still, I had gotten us dinner.

We trudged back to the farmhouse, and this time all three of us helped prepare the turkey.  It was gross, but it had to be done. Another skill worth learning in this world.  Then we cooked and ate it the way we did the night before; it tasted fine, but I could tell I was going to get sick of turkey pretty soon, if that’s all we could find to eat.  Better than going hungry, though.

We found some blankets in the storage area and slept in front of the fire in the living room, like we had at the Gradgers; using the beds didn’t seem right.  We figured we were safe here, so we didn’t stand watches.  And in the morning the sun was shining, the fire had died down, and we had to figure out what to do next.

I assumed Stinky would want to leave, but he didn’t seem to be in any hurry.  “Oh, I’ll find old man Kincaid when the time comes, and we’ll work things out,” he said, talking about his master.  “In the meantime, there’s plenty to be done here.  Chopping wood, hunting, fishing . . .  We can cart ice back from Amity Pond to preserve the meat.  There should be a root cellar somewhere around.  We can search for seed corn and make sure it’s protected.  That’ll be important come next spring.”

Kevin wasn’t interested in doing chores.  “What’s the point?” he demanded when Stinky was paying a visit to the privy.  “Let’s just find the portal and go home.  Now.”

He was right, of course.  We had done it.  We had gotten back to Glanbury, and there was no one to stop us from going home.  Still . . .

I wanted to find out what had happened to my family on this world.  I wanted to make sure they were okay.  And I didn’t want to have them wonder what happened to Larry Palmer.  Did he die in the battle?  Why did he never come to see us like he promised?

But I couldn’t say that to Kevin; he would’ve gone nuts.  He was already staring at me suspiciously.  “What’s the matter?” he demanded.

“I’m just a little–I don’t know,” I said.  “What if the portal doesn’t take us home?  We could step out into a black hole or something.”

“Okay, yeah, it’s a risk.  We know that.  But we’ve gotta take it, Larry.  We can’t stay here for the rest of our lives if we have a chance to make it home.”

“Sure, but, you know, what if you bring those drikana germs back with you?  We don’t want to start a plague or something.”

“I’m not contagious.  This world doesn’t know how to cure drikana, but they know when people are contagious.  I’m out of claustration.  I feel fine.  Now let’s go.”

Stinky came back in.  “What shall we do now?”

Kevin looked at me.

“Kevin and I are going hunting,” I said.  “We’ll be back in a while.”

“I’ll come too,” he replied.  “If you shoot a deer, we might need the three of us to bring it back.”

“No, uh, why don’t you stay here, Julian.  We’ll be all right.”

He looked puzzled and disappointed, but he didn’t argue.  He also didn’t say anything when we went down the lane to the road, rather than back into the woods beyond Amity Pond.

I might never see him again, I thought.

Kevin couldn’t have cared less.  He practically raced back to the Post Road.  When we reached it, we turned right and started heading south.  “Give a shout if you spot anything that looks familiar,” he said.


But it all looked more or less familiar.  Or more or less unfamiliar.  I peered into the woods on the left and tried to remember any details from those few frantic moments when we raced out of the woods and into the road.  “Maybe there?” I suggested at one point, although I couldn’t say why.

But Kevin got excited, and we tramped into the woods and wandered around for a while, waving our hands in front of us.  We didn’t find anything, although I spotted a deer staring at us like we were crazy.  “Why did you think it was here?” he demanded.

“I don’t know.  Just a guess.  I can’t really remember anything, Kevin.  But I’m trying.”

“All right,” he said.  “Let’s keep going.”

We went back to the road and continued heading south.  We stopped a couple of times more when Kevin thought he spotted something he recognized, and we went through the same routine, walking around in the woods, hoping we stumbled onto the portal.  We weren’t just looking for a needle in a haystack, I thought.  We were looking for an invisible needle, and we didn’t even know which haystack it was in.

But I wasn’t going to say that to Kevin.

Finally we reached a deserted building called the Wompatuck Inn.  I didn’t remember the inn, but Wompatuck was the town just south of Glanbury.  We looked at each other.  Kevin sat down on a hitching post.  “I don’t know,” he said softly.  “I thought . . . I thought I’d spot something.  I thought we’d get lucky for once.”

“We can keep looking, Kevin.  We’ve got time.”

“Until Lieutenant Carmody tracks us down.  He knows we’re here looking for the portal.”

“He’ll think we’re gone.”

“He won’t be sure.  He’ll check.  You know he will.”

“Well, it’s got to be here somewhere.”

“No, it doesn’t,” he replied in a tired tone.  “We don’t know anything about it–where it came from, how it works.  We’re just a couple of stupid kids who did a really stupid thing.  And now . . . ”

I didn’t know what to say.  Finally Kevin stood up, and we started walking back.  He didn’t suggest looking in the woods.  “We should do some hunting,” I said after a while.

He just shrugged.  We had seen plenty of game besides the deer.  When we got near the farm I went back into the woods; Kevin didn’t join me.  Within a few minutes I had shot another turkey.

“I’m sick of turkey,” he muttered when I brought it out of the woods with me.

He was not going to be great company, I decided.  “Tomorrow,” I said.  “We’ll search again tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he replied.  “Whatever.”

When we got back to the farmhouse, Stinky was cooking up fish that he’d caught.  If he was curious about why we’d taken so long just to shoot one turkey, he didn’t say so.  It wasn’t hard to tell that something was wrong, but he didn’t ask what it was.

So it was a quiet night.  Kevin just stared into the fire; he barely touched his supper.  I ate enough for two, even though I didn’t like fish.  Stinky talked about all the chores he had done, and it made me feel guilty.  We went to sleep early, huddled in front of the fire.

I thought about my family–my “real” family–and how annoying they all could be, how rotten my life had been, with the “real” Stinky bugging me and Nora Lally ignoring me and my stupid teachers at The Gross boring me to death.  What if I didn’t have a choice–what if we couldn’t find the portal and I had to stay here?  No toilets or computers or TV, sure, but I was already used to not having that stuff.

What if I had to stay?

I fell asleep with that thought in my mind.

The next day was cold and raw.  Stinky and I did some chores while Kevin moped.  “What’s the matter with your friend?” Stinky finally asked me while we were in the barn.

“I don’t know,” I said.  “I think the battle bothered him.  He saw a lot of suffering.”

“We’ve all seen a lot the last few months,” was all he replied.

Eventually I got Kevin to go searching again.  Stinky didn’t offer to come with us this time.  I think Kevin was really starting to bother him.

We had only seen a couple of travelers yesterday.  Today there were a lot of people on the road, all making their way south.  We found out from them that no one was being stopped from leaving the city now; in fact, the army was encouraging it.  The travelers had the usual variety of rumors about what was happening with the Canadians, but no one said they had defeated us, and that was a good sign.

This time we headed north, back towards Weymouth.  We spent most of our time in the woods.  What was the point of walking along the road if we had no clue where to look?

After a while it started to snow.  “Great,” Kevin muttered.  “Now we won’t be able to recognize anything.”

But it wasn’t like we were recognizing anything to begin with.

We made it all the way back to the North River.  We watched the snow flecking the gray water for a while in silence, and then Kevin said, “Let’s go back before we freeze to death out here.”

“I’m sorry, Kev.”

He shrugged.  “Let’s just go.”

We turned back.  The snow was heavier now, and there were fewer people on the road.  We trudged along in silence, with our hands jammed into our pockets.  The snow was light and fluffy–not good snowball snow, but we were in no mood to throw snowballs.  For once I wished I was wearing those big old shoes from this world instead of my sneakers.

After a while I started looking for where we turned off the Post Road.  Visibility wasn’t that great anymore, and I sure didn’t want to miss the turn and keep on walking in the snowstorm.  Kevin didn’t look like he was going to be much help.  Up ahead I could make out a wagon, moving slowly along the road.  We got closer.  Suddenly the squeaking of the wheels stopped, and I heard a voice.  “This is Town Road, I think.”

It was my mother.

I started grinning and ran up to the wagon.  “Mrs. Barnes?” I said.  “It’s me–Larry Palmer!”

She was sitting on the bench with the reins in her hand.  Matthew sat next to her.  “Larry?” she whispered.  “Sweet Lord, it is.”

There was something about the way she said it.  There was none of the excitement and surprise I had expected; it was as if she could barely bring herself to speak.  I looked at Matthew; his eyes were red with tears.  “Larry, Cassie’s dead,” he said.  “Our own soldiers shot her, damn their eyes.”

I stared at my mother, and I knew that it was true.  A tear leaked out of her eye and fell down her cheek, mixing with the snowflakes.  I came closer and looked in the back of the wagon.  There, in the middle of all their snow-covered possessions, wrapped in a sheet, was the outline of a body.

“Oh, no,” I cried.  “Oh please, no.”

Mom reached down and touched me on the arm as I, too, started to weep.

Portal, an online novel: Chapter 26

Chapter 25: Larry, Kevin, and Stinky Glover make their way out of Boston, south towards Glanbury.  Guards in watchtowers shoot at them; Kevin trades his Red Sox cap for a trip across the river; they see evidence of a headlong Portuguese retreat; they meet up with a weary mother and child heading home.  Is the war over?  Will they make it back to Glanbury?


Chapter 26

A few minutes later we were there.

The Gradger house hadn’t been burned.  It was bigger than most of the houses I’d seen in Cambridge, with a fancy black iron fence out front and a wide brick drive leading up to an entranceway supported by large white pillars.  “We’re home, Mother!” Cecilia shouted.  “Home!”

But things didn’t look right.  The front door was open.  All the windows were smashed.  Staring at them, Mrs. Gradger looked like she wanted to kill someone else.  We walked quickly up the drive, rifles at the ready.  For a moment we stood by the door, listening, and then Mrs. Gradger strode inside, with the rest of us following.

The place had been trashed.  Broken glass and dishes littered the floor.  Furniture was overturned.  Paintings had been taken down from the wall and ripped in half.  We went from room to room–and there were a lot of them–and they were all wrecked.  We headed upstairs, and it was the same there.  Everything that could be destroyed had been.  It was awful.

Cecilia started crying again.  Mrs. Gradger didn’t say a word.  “I’m really sorry,” I said to her.  She just shook her head.

We went through the entire place to make sure it was empty, then came back downstairs.  Kevin, Stinky, and I didn’t have to say anything to each other; we all knew we had to pitch in.  “I’ll start a fire,” Kevin volunteered.

“I’ll unpack Barney,” I said.

“I’ll help,” Stinky added.

We went outside.  “Quite a mess,” Stinky remarked as we unloaded the mule.

“Think the Portuguese did it?”

“Don’t see why they’d do this much damage,” Stinky said.  “Same for thieves.  Maybe it was servants or townspeople, settling old scores.  They finally got a chance to show what they thought of the Gradgers.  I bet they weren’t so fond of Mrs. Gradger.”

“She’s not so bad.”

Stinky shrugged.  “Tell that to the person she shot.  Let’s get this stuff inside and see if we can find some food.”

We talked to Kevin and decided that he would stay behind with the Gradgers while we went out hunting.  Mrs. Gradger was starting to clean up the big living room, and Cecilia had lain down on a rug in the corner.  Stinky and I headed out into the late afternoon.

“Shouldn’t be hard to find game,” Stinky said.  “With no people around for months, the animals are probably nearabouts.”

“Whatever we do, let’s not get lost,” I replied.

We were in a residential neighborhood.  None of the houses were as grand as Mrs. Gradger’s, but they were still pretty nice.  We didn’t see anyone else, so it was like walking through a ghost town.  It took us a little while before we found a patch of woods behind a church.  “This’ll do, I expect,” Stinky said.

We went into the woods.  Stinky motioned for me to be silent.  Once again I noticed how quiet it could be in this world, without traffic or radios or airplanes.  We walked deeper into the woods, and then stopped again.  I could hear the sound of Stinky’s heavy breathing, the breeze moving the branches above us.  It was getting dark; I hoped this wouldn’t take long.  And then I saw Stinky slowly raise the pistol he had taken from the dead Portuguese soldier.

I looked where he was aiming.  There was a large, strange-looking bird waddling along the ground.  Could we eat that?  Stinky fired, and the sound was deafening.  The bird collapsed, squawking, and then there was silence again.  “Got ‘im,” Stinky said.

We walked over to it.  “What is it?” I asked.

Stinky looked at me with a puzzled expression.  “A turkey, of course,” he said.  “Don’t they ever feed you turkey in the orphanage?”

“Yeah, of course.  I love turkey.  But to be honest, I’m about ready to eat tree bark.”

Stinky picked up the bird and handed it to me, and we made our way out of the woods.  “A lot of turkeys’ll be shot before this winter’s over,” he said.

The dead bird was heavy, and it dripped blood as we walked.  Nasty.  But I wasn’t going to complain.  We made our way back to the Gradgers’ house without a problem, although night was falling fast.  Inside, the fire was roaring.  Mrs. Gradger was hanging sheets in front of the windows to keep out the cold air.  Kevin was sweeping up the broken glass; he looked relieved to see us return.  Cecilia was fast asleep on some cushions by the fire.

“Ma’am, if you’ll pluck this turkey, we can have some supper,” Stinky said.

Mrs. Gradger didn’t look happy about handling the turkey; that was probably something the servants did.  But she stopped what she was doing and went out with us to the kitchen.  Getting the turkey ready to eat turned out to be hard, disgusting work–chopping off the head, plucking the feathers, cleaning out the insides . . .  Rather than get involved with that, I started a fire in the kitchen fireplace, then pumped some water out back.  When the turkey had been prepared, she put it on a spit in the fireplace, and then we just had to wait for it to cook, while the aroma made our mouths water and our stomachs rumble.

The table and chairs had been destroyed, so we had to eat on the floor in the living room.  Mrs. Gradger found pewter plates that hadn’t been smashed and some old silverware, while the three of us did more cleanup.  Finally we took the turkey off the spit, carved it, roused Cecilia, and ate.  The turkey was burned on the outside, then too dry, then barely cooked next to the bone.  But it was probably the best food I’ve ever tasted.

Mrs. Gradger ate with her fork, I noticed.  It was the first time I had seen anyone do that since I’d been to Coolidge Palace.  She looked stiff and uncomfortable eating on the floor, but as usual she didn’t say anything.

There was a piano in a corner of the living room that had been too big to destroy.  After we had finished I went over to play it.  It was a good piano–better than Professor Palmer’s–but a little out of tune.  I played the song the professor like so much:


Wanly I wandered

Through the world far and wide

Seeking some solace

For dreams that had died


When I finished, everyone was silent.  Mrs. Gradger’s face was wet with tears.  Cecilia was sitting on her lap, asleep again, and Mrs. Gradger absently stroked her hair as she stared off into the distance.  Kevin got up and added a log to the fire.  “We should all go to sleep,” he said quietly.  “We’ll want to get started early.”

“Maybe we should stand watches,” Stinky suggested.  “Just in case.”

“I’ll take the first watch,” I offered.

“Wake me for one too,” Mrs. Gradger said.

We arranged more cushions, and people visited the privy, and then everyone but me settled down to sleep in front of the fire.  I sat next to a window, rifle by my side, and listened to the crackling of the fire and the regular breathing.  Despite all that had happened that day, I wasn’t very sleepy.

Wanly I wandered …

I thought about Kevin and how determined he was to get to the portal.  It looked like we were actually going to make it back to Glanbury, and that was more than I had expected a couple of days ago. So maybe we’d find it; maybe we’d have our chance to step into it and see where we’d end up.  I remembered the faint hope we’d had when we first came here that rescuers would follow us through the portal.  So many dreams had died.  But here we were, still alive, still struggling.

Long had I lingered/In an alien land . . .

I thought of my mother and father, and wondered if they were safe.  Which mother and father?  Both.  Kevin would scoff, but I didn’t think I could stand it if anything happened to the ones in this world.  And I worried about Professor Palmer, who had probably been operating the electric fence against the Canadians.  Would he be shot like Professor Foster?  I worried about Caleb and Benjamin and Chester and Corporal Hennessy.  This world, and the people in it, mattered to me now.  It wasn’t a dream, they weren’t a dream.

I might be part of this world for the rest of my life.

It is only by setting out that we can finally return home, the strange preacher had said.  But where was home?

I sat there for a couple of hours, just thinking.  Outside it was utterly quiet.  I got up once or twice to put another log onto the fire.  Finally I started to get sleepy, so I roused Stinky, who groggily took my place.  I lay down on the cushions and immediately fell into the best sleep I’d had in days.  No dreams.

When I awoke it was daylight, and everyone except Cecilia was already up.  Stinky was out shooting more game for breakfast.  Mrs. Gradger had found clean clothes upstairs and was laying them out for Cecilia.  And Kevin was waiting for me.  “Let’s go,” he said.

“We can wait for Stinky,” I replied.  “We can wait for breakfast.”


“Come on, Kevin.  Relax.”

Kevin brooded.  I wondered if he was thinking of leaving by himself.  He certainly wasn’t happy with me.

We heard some shots, and a few minutes later Stinky arrived with a couple of dead rabbits.  “Thought I spotted a deer,” he informed us.  “That’s what you’ll need to lay in a good supply of meat.”

Mrs. Gradger looked thoughtful.  Stinky skinned the rabbits for her, and then she roasted them in the kitchen.  We woke Cecilia and again ate sitting on the living-room floor.  “Mother,” Cecilia asked as we ate, “when will Father be home?”

“Father is still fighting for our country,” Mrs. Gradger said.  “Along with Gabriel and Elijah.”

“But we need them here.”

Mrs. Gradger didn’t reply.  When we were finished eating, she sent Cecilia off to change.  Kevin stood up to leave.

Mrs. Gradger raised a hand to stop him, and the rest of us.  “Please,” she said.  “Don’t go.  Stay here with Cecelia and me.  Just until my husband returns.  I can pay you well.”

Kevin shook his head.  “No, thanks.  We’ve got to get to Glanbury.”

“But what’s so important about going to Glanbury?” she persisted.  “I can pay you very well.  And my husband is an important man.  He can–he can find you work, give you opportunities.  You’re good lads.  You wouldn’t regret it.”

“Maybe St–maybe Julian would do it,” Kevin suggested.  “Larry and I have to go, but he doesn’t.  What about it, Julian?”

Everyone looked at Stinky.  “You wouldn’t regret it,” Mrs. Gradger repeated.  “We’re all alone here.  Think of my daughter.  We need help.”

It was hard for her to beg, I could tell.  And that only made the begging harder to resist.  Stinky looked pretty unhappy.  But he too shook his head finally.  “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to stay with my friends,” he said.  “We were glad to help, but now it’s time to leave.”

That was a little surprising.  Why not stay?  Was Stinky still grateful to me for helping him with those kids in the camp?  Was he worried about his master beating him or something?  Or was it just that he liked us?  Anyway, Mrs. Gradger looked like she didn’t know whether to yell at us or burst into tears.  Finally she got control of herself and said, “Very well.  In any case, I’m grateful to all of you and wish you godspeed.”

We said our fare-you-wells.  Cecilia came back in her new dress, cleaned up and cute.  She cried when she found out we were going.  “Mother, can’t they stay?  Please?”

Mrs. Gradger shook her head.  “We’ll be fine, Cecilia,” she said.  “Don’t wipe your face on your sleeve.”

It was tough, but a few minutes later we were headed back to the Post Road.

“How come you didn’t stay with them?” Kevin asked Stinky.

Stinky looked puzzled.  “What do you mean, ‘how come’?”

It was one of those phrases they didn’t quite get in this world.  “How come?”  Kevin repeated.  “Why?”

“Oh.”  Stinky shrugged.  “Don’t know, exactly.  But don’t you think she’d be hard to deal with, once things got back to normal?  She’s nice enough now, but there’s a reason people destroyed her home.  And who knows what her money’ll be worth–if anything?  Remember what that fellow on the river said.  She could pay me five pounds a week, but if a loaf of bread costs five pounds, that’s still poor wages, right?”

Seemed reasonable to me.  We didn’t say anything more about the Gradgers.  We all felt pretty bad, I think–probably even Kevin.  There were going to be a lot of people in the same situation, I knew, and many worse off than the Gradgers, but that didn’t make it any better.

The day was clear but cold, like yesterday.  It didn’t take us long to get back on the Post Road.  Unlike yesterday, there were other people on it now–families in wagons pulled by half-dead horses, old men and women leaning on sticks, and a few scruffy-looking characters that Mrs. Gardner probably would have called “brigands”.

We got the latest news from them.  There were few guards left at the fortifications, so people were starting to stream out of the city, whether or not this was officially allowed yet.  A makeshift bridge was in place.  No one was sure how things were going against the Canadians–or rather, everyone was sure, but they all had different stories to tell.  We had lost.  We had won.  We were still fighting.  Reinforcements from the Portuguese front had turned the battle around.  They had arrived too late.  They had been sent to the wrong place and never arrived.

But people were unanimous about the Portuguese.  If we were still seeing their discarded stuff on the road this far south of the city, they weren’t likely to be regrouping for another attack.  They must have been heading out of New England as fast as they could travel.  And that was good news.

“More than halfway to Glanbury, mates,” Stinky said.

A long distance in the cold, but our bellies were full and we’d had a good night’s sleep and no one was shooting at us, so it didn’t seem like such a big deal.  Kevin was almost twitching with excitement.

After a couple of hours walking he began to look more tired than excited, but by then it seemed like Glanbury must be just around the next bend in the road.  “Not far now, I think,” Stinky said.  “There’s Lantham’s Stables.”  Then, a few minutes later, “And there’s the Weymouth Inn, burned to the ground.  That’s a shame.”  We walked a little faster.

And then, finally, Stinky gestured up ahead.  “See the river?” he asked.


“That’s the North River.  Glanbury’s on t’other side.”

Kevin and I looked at each other.  There were tears in his eyes.  Glanbury.  Home.  At last.