Timmy slept in the basement. His parents, brother, and sister, each had their own room on the main floor.
One wall divided the basement. From the stairs was the study, the bathroom and at the end, Timmy’s room. The other side of the hallway was the washer, dryer, freezer, heater, and hot water heater forming the other side of the hall. The basement behind the line of appliances was unfinished, with cinder block walls and cement floor.
The light for the hallway was by the stairs. When Timmy shut off the light, the hallway would be pitch black. He would sprint to turn on the light in his room as fast as he could. Most nights, he would make sure his room light was on first. But even with the room light on, he’d run for it.
Timmy wasn’t sure what could reach out and grab him in the dark. He knew it was silly, as nothing was in the basement. But still, sometimes he thought that something was there. Especially after a scary movie.
Timmy was getting ready for bed. He shut off the bathroom light and then the hallway. He did not run this night, as he was thinking about the new kid at school. The heater turned on just as he walked by it and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He realized it was just the heater, but it had caught him off guard. He leaned against the wall for a second. “Got me good.” He thought, laughing at himself for getting scared.
It was at that moment that he noticed the little door in the wall, halfway between the bathroom and his room. It was only about half the size of a regular door. A flat door, with a small knob and keyhole, painted to look like the wall. It had always been there, obviously. He really did not remember seeing it before. He reached down to open it and look inside. It was locked. He felt the hairs rise on his neck and arms. For a second, he thought the knob was going to bite him. He jerked back his hand. Nothing happened. It was just there.
“There is something wrong with this door,” he thought, he went to bed and shut the door to his room. He kept the light on.
The next morning, he asked his mother about small door, but she was busy getting him to school and really didn’t understand what he was talking about. He forgot about it at school. When he got home, the door was in the hallway again. “Where else would it be?” he thought. “It’s probably just a closet.” Timmy just forgot about the door after that.
About a month later, as he was walking down the hall towards his room, he got to wondering why he had been thinking there was a small door in the wall. It wasn’t there now. Just the blank wall between the bathroom and his bedroom. “Why did I think there was a door there?” he asked himself.
For a couple of months, the little door wasn’t in the hallway and then it was there again. Timmy was aware of it, but he just never thought about it. Neither did anyone else. Timmy’s Mom would come down to sweep the hall and never noticed the door, there or not.
He never thought about it. He had friends and movies and video games. The door in the hallway was just an accepted fact, not even worthy of any attention. It was a little locked storage room or closet.
It was the eve of spring, Timmy was asleep, when the ceiling leaped up nearly ten feet and a giant head stuck in.
“Is Burlos here?” He bellowed like thunder. “Burlos.”
Timmy just stared, clutching his covers, preparing to dive under them.
The small door in the hallway burst open. A small man with a bald head, large ears and nose, wearing a robe, like Timmy’s dad wore, can storming into Timmy’s room.
“Stop that,” The man shouted at the giant.
“My Bunions,” bellowed the giant.
“Quiet. I’ll meet you outside,” the little man
“Put the house back.”
“Like it was.” The small man barked out at the giant. He pointed to him with an or else look.
“I’ll meet you outside.” The small man said and walked to the door.
He stopped and looked back at the giant. “Well,” he said. The giant lowered the ceiling back into place.
The small man looked at Timmy on the bed. “I apologize for my friend. He suffers from corns. Worse case I’ve ever seen. But I will get him on his way.”
Timmy was only vaguely aware of the little man, as a giant had ripped his ceiling off. He looked at the small man. He didn't look dangerous as the robe he wore looked just like the one Timmy's father wore.
“Good night.” The small man said and walked back into the small door and closed it.
“Timmy!” his Mom called. Timmy heard both his parents coming down the stairs. His Mom raced to him. His Dad rushed over to the pipes by the water heater that were spraying water everywhere. He was able to get the water shut off before too much damage was done.
“Are you alright?” She cradled him and he had a good cry. She comforted him. He told her about the giant and she told him it was just a dream. She held him until he fell asleep.
Timmy had a terrible nightmare. A giant was ripping his house apart. Good reason for it as an earthquake had hit the house during the night. There was a crack all along the ceiling and the top of the walls. It was a complete mess with all the broken water pipes.
“It sounded like thunder,” Timmy’s father said. The house had received quite a jolt even though the earthquake must have been a minor one as there was no news reporting about it. Just in the wrong place, as most of the other houses on the street, were not damaged.
A giant had ripped his house apart. Timmy remembered the nightmare clearly for a few days. That huge face bellowing at him. The giant was so terrifying.
He feared the door for a few days. It was terrifying to run down the hall to his room. But the fear faded. Those times when he would remember the dream, he remembered the giant. He forgot about the small man. The small door.
Years later, he was packing up to join the air force. He sat on the bed to give his old room the final look over as he may not see it again for a couple years. He glanced down the hallway.
“Wasn't there a door there?” Timmy asked himself. “Funny.” Timmy was sure he remembered a door in the hallway. "I must have been thinking about a different spot," Timmy thought as he grabbed up his bags.