Open the Door

         Edwin stared at his hands, cracked and bleeding, bruised and old. How had he come to this? He was once a man, a strong man with strong, vital hands. He used to build things with these hands, things people used. Furniture, chairs mostly, but once he built a boat. Edwin had sailed that boat along the east coast all the way down to Florida and spent a week on the beach. Now he could barely grip a glass, let alone a hammer.

         He looked up at the door before him, hanging in mid air with a soft, white glow along the edges. He knew the door. It was the bedroom door he had opened and closed for the past fifty years. So many good things had happened on both sides of that door. Edwin wiped a tear from his cheek.

         People walked on either side of him, oblivious to the door and Edwin, as if he and the door didn't exist. He wanted to shout at them, scream at them, shake them into seeing, but he had lost his will to fight a long time ago.

         A gentle breeze ruffled his white hair and made him shiver. The sky was black and starless on this chilly October night, and Edwin was cold even through his good working clothes. He had started walking to get here, but he didn't recall when or how to get back. Judging by the door in front of him, he didn't think he'd be going back.

         84 years old, and he was done. His wife was buried and gone, his kids moved away, and he'd never had any brothers or sisters. Edwin was completely alone, a broken man, worthless and useless. He had tried to do right in his life, had tried to do right by his kids, his work, his church. In the end, they all left him. It seemed to him that money made the world go round and when you didn't have any, the world left you behind.

         When his hands failed him, his job failed him. Miriam worked herself to death trying to make ends meet and when she died, Edwin was left homeless and unable to bury her on his own. His church had paid for a plot, but when he couldn't pay them back, he'd been kicked out of the church. Godly men were never like what they preached. His kids had refused to take him in, and he couldn't afford to get to them if they would. His life had evaporated before him, and he had nothing left to live for. So, he walked, and had been walking right up until the door appeared in front of him.

         Edwin knew it was time to go, but he hesitated. There was still hope, wasn't there? He could turn this around, patch things up with his kids once he got to a phone? He could talk with Andrew, the head deacon at his church, and get him to reconsider? Edwin felt a dark chuckle bubble past his lips, and tears started to flow freely. Sometimes hope just isn't there, and sometimes it's just time to give up.

         Something was wrong. Edwin looked around in fear as the trees and people seemed to grow taller. He looked down in horror as he realized he was sinking into the sidewalk. Black, shadowy hands reached for him and pulled at his clothes, trying to pull him down faster. He couldn't move, and he was starting to sink faster. Frantic, Edwin reached out and grasped the door handle with his right hand.

         A bright flash surprised him, and he fell backward on his backside. Edwin looked in shock at his hand, knowing that what he saw was impossible. The twisted bones were straight, the skin strong and supple. His hand was the hand of a man in his prime, completely healed. The relief from the constant pain almost hurt it felt so good.

         This time, when a chuckle bubbled past his lips, it wasn't dark. He carefully got to his feet, his aged back creaking in protest and approached the door carefully. The ground was still soft, but it held him, reinforced by his own nervous hope. Grunting with effort, Edwin raised his left and and pressed it to the door. He sighed in relief as he felt power surge through his arm and pop his bad shoulder, healing as it went. His back cracked as it straightened out, and his knees shrank two sizes as the swelling faded. The white hair that fell before his eyes turned brown, and with a start, he realized he could see it clearly.

         For the first time in ten years, Edwin threw his head back and laughed with joy, tears streaming down his face. He laughed until his sides hurt. He laughed, and the ground became solid again. He laughed, and the stars peaked from behind their black blanket. He laughed, and though the people around him still took no notice of him, they smiled.

         Edwin smiled himself and gripped the door handle again, this time with a strong hand, the hand of a working man. It turned easily in his palm and he pushed it open, somehow hoping, yet still knowing who he would find on the otherside.

         "Hello, Ed." She said, her smile radiant. She looked like she did on their first date, gorgeous and free, and she winked at him, her blue eyes sparkling. "Are you ready to come home?"

         Edwin didn't remember walking through the door. One moment, he stood looking at her, and the next, she was in his arms, his fingers running through her chestnut hair, lips caressing hers, his tears staining her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around his neck and relaxed into the kiss. When they parted, she was breathless.

         "I'll take that as a yes. Come on, I've got so much to show you!" She grabbed him by the hand and turned to lead him away from the door.

         "Miriam," he whispered. She turned toward him, her look quizzical. "I have missed you so much. I am so sorry I failed you." Miriam drew close to him, touched his cheek, and he leaned into her hand.

         "You never failed me, Ed. You never could. Now come on, we've got Forever to spend, and we're not getting any younger!"

         For the second time in ten years, Edwin laughed.