Hole in the Wall

 

Hope transcends reason.

 

 

 

 

The Seventh Mountain Museum of Artifacts was on the first sub-level of the school. The curator was a tall, thin man with thick black hair. He was a Magi of the Agate Tribe. He wore the usual black and silver robes of the school staff. Mark had come to know that a Magi’s tribe was indicated by the small stone on the right side of the signet ring and rank was indicated by the number of bands on the ring itself. This Magi had five bands, the same as Mr. Diefenderfer and Mrs. Shadowitz. That fact told Mark that the curator was someone high up in the school staff.

Mr. Diefenderfer used this weekend, every year, to introduce students to the study of archeology, which included artifacts, knowledge, and skills that had been lost or forgotten in ages past. Part of a Magi’s duty was to study the past, through artifacts, and regain things lost. This lesson in the museum was designed to introduce students to that undertaking.

The museum itself was a vast, well-lit, underground cavern. There were glass-covered display boxes everywhere. Each display box housed some sort of artifact that had been recovered from some ancient site and was here now for study.

Mr. Diefenderfer and the curator entered the museum and all eyes turned to them.

“This is… Quintus McGraw… the Keeper of Artifacts… and… curator of this museum. You will browse this museum… and select… an artifact… that interests you. When you have made your selection… let Mr. McGraw know… he will turn the artifact… over to you… for study. You must… keep the artifact safe. You will have… one month… to complete your study. You are required… to log in your notebook… the methods… and means… that you take… in every individual step… in the process… and progress… of your study. Your notebooks will be graded… not only on your conclusion… but… the means… and methods… of your progress. By all means… be careful down here. The artifacts… cannot be replaced. Also… the labyrinth opens… once a day… on that wall… at an unpredictable time. No person… not even one… has ever returned… from it.”

Mark looked at the wall that Mr. Diefenderfer had indicated. For a space of about twenty feet along the wall, there weren’t any glass cases. A velvet rope held by two stands was all that guarded the wall. He walked over and looked at the wall. It didn’t look any different from any other wall in the school.

Mark thought that it might be possible to study the staff for his assignment. He grabbed his staff and walked up to Mr. Diefenderfer.

Mr. Diefenderfer spoke without Mark having asked the question. “For extra credit… you may study your staff… For this assignment… you must choose… from the artifacts here.” He raised his arm and swept it in an arc indicating the things in the museum.

Mark replaced the staff into Aaron’s Grasp. He walked from case to case looking at the artifacts. Nothing interested him until he saw a small stone tablet that he could read. It read simply, “Walk through a door before it closes.”

Mark found Mr. McGraw and brought him to the small stone tablet.

“Ah, yes, a most curious stone indeed. The language is pre-Sanskrit, even pre-Cuneiform. No one has ever figured out what it is. It should present a formidable challenge. Are you sure you want to try this one?”

“I think so. I mean, I can read it.”

Mr. McGraw bent over and looked at Mark. He raised his eyebrows, and his mouth dropped open. “Praise the One God! Are you telling me that you have the Eyes of Abednego?”

“I don’t know what that is. All I know is that I can read it.”

Mr. McGraw turned and started looking around the museum. He raised his arm and waved it in the air. “AlHufus! AlHufus! Did you hear that? The Eyes of Abednego. AlHufus! Where are you?”

Mr. Diefenderfer walked up behind Mr. McGraw. “I’m right here… Quintus… Did I hear you… correctly?”

Mr. McGraw said, “Yes, yes! This boy,” his finger pointed at Mark and vibrated as if it might have been a machine pistol. “This boy can read this stone. He has the Eyes of Abednego.”

A crowd of students was forming around the group. Mr. Diefenderfer leaned down to Mark and looked at him. “Yes… I see… Is it so? Mark… has anything like this… ever happened before?”

“Yes sir, once before. I could read what my great, great, great, great grandfather had written in his Bible. He wrote it in German. I don’t know how to read German.”

“Actually… that was different. That was left… exclusively for you. Do you recall… any other time… that you could read something… in a foreign language?”

“No sir.”

“This is most curious. Quintus… give me the information page… for this stone.”

Mr. McGraw started walking toward the office while muttering to himself. “Yes, yes… the information on the stone. It can’t be the Eyes of Abednego. He would be able to read everything if it were. It must be a trap… yes, yes, a trap… it has to be a trap.”

Mr. Diefenderfer returned his attention to Mark. “Mark… if you do not… which I believe… to be the case… have the ability… of the Eyes of Abednego… then… that means… that this stone… was set for you. That possibility… raises a lot of… disconcerting questions. Choose another artifact… for your assignment.”

Mr. Diefenderfer raised the glass lid, took the stone and walked off the way that Mr. McGraw had gone.

Nick leaned toward Mark and whispered. “You never said anything about anything like that before.”

“I forgot about it. So many weird things have happened since then.”

“Okay, but I want to hear the story when we go to lunch.”

“Okay.”

Mark was examining the cases next to the velvet rope when he noticed that the wall had vanished. There hadn’t been any sound or any other indication that it had opened up. The wall section was simply just gone. Mark walked toward the opening and said, “Hey! Check it out. The wall has disappeared.”

A crowd started forming behind Mark. It seemed that everyone wanted to see the door that swallowed people forever. He heard someone say, “Quit pushing.” He turned to look at the people behind him. He saw Ralph Lawrence lurch out of the crowd, trying to regain his balance. Mark didn’t have time to get out of the way. Ralph hurdled headlong into him and knocked Mark toward the open doorway. Mark was knocked backwards toward the opening. The velvet rope was the only thing that he could grab.

He crossed the plane of the opening and sensed that gravity had changed direction. He fell a long way to what had just moments before been the far wall in the labyrinth. Falling, even in normal circumstances, produces an adrenalin rush, which quickens the heart, enhances perception and muscle response, to the point of making one superhuman for a short time. Mark had experienced this rush before; only this time the enemy was gravity, a warrior that could be vanquished by no one.

Mark looked this way and that, hoping for anything to grab onto before he came to the inevitable conclusion of this journey. There was nothing there save the two rope stands and a velvet rope, all caught in gravity’s grasp, just as helpless as he was.

He realized that he was falling headfirst and tried to right himself in order to impact on his feet instead of his head. There wasn’t enough time and his arms protected his head as much as possible.

He heard the rope stands clang on the floor on either side of him. That far wall was now the floor. He had hit that floor hard. His scream vanished into the darkness. The excruciating pain in both of his arms told him that they were broken. His head and chest were in agonizing pain, too. He tried to move and couldn’t, except for his eyes and all there was to see was the light from the door. He knew that he had to stay awake, but the fight was useless. He was defeated; numbing cold settled over him, and he faded into blackness.

The story doesn't end here.