The Eighth Dimension

The windows of our house were always locked and sealed shut. We never had access to a summer breeze and the air inside the house was always a little musty even during July and August.

Our three-story house stood in the middle of a suburb in a smaller city in Ohio. However, the overgrowth of bushes and trees hid our house from the neighborhood and subsequently the modernization that went along with it. Six generations of the Abernathy family have lived in these walls and as I was nearing my eighteenth birthday, I would finally learn how that was possible. No one ever came into the house, we never entertained guests, and no one was allowed to leave. I never knew how we got food, how my parents met, or even how I would ever find a life if these walls were all I would ever know.

“Today is a good day,” Grandma Elias said, “You are almost a woman in the eyes of our family and it is time for you to join our elite.”

I nodded and smiled politely. Grandma Elias was a wonder. She looked maybe sixty-five, but she often talked about the distant past like she had witnessed it firsthand. I knew she was older, but I didn’t want to pry. I had seen what being on her bad side did to my mother. One day, my mother was vibrant, fun, and full of anticipation for a future, and then she walked out of Grandma Elias’s room with a blank stare and nothing to say to me except that she would be leaving. I watched her ascend the staircase to the octagon-shaped window, make several strange hand gestures, and stood there and watched the window tilt itself open. My mother dove head-first out of the window and before I could reach the window, it closed itself and the glass darkened so I couldn’t see where my mother had gone. That was four years ago. It had been me and Grandma Elias ever since. I am still not sure, but I think I caught her smiling after my mother went through the windowpane. She almost looked proud of what her daughter had done. 

I spent a lot of time lost after my mother left. I say left not died, because I don’t know if she died. There was no noise indicating that she had hit the ground three stories below the window and no one came to tell us that her body had been found either. So, she was alive, for the time being, even if it was just in my head.

“Cat got your tongue, Nell?” Grandma Elias said and winked at Champagne our yellow tabby who had just appeared in the room with us.

“No, Grandma,” I replied, “I just don’t have anything to say.”

“That is not true,” Grandma Elias said as she smirked, “You are one of the smartest Abernathy girls to ever walk these halls and surely you have questions about this house and me,”

“No,” I lied, “I am quite content with life here.”

Grandma Elias’s smile faded into a strict line on her face. “What about your mother? Don’t you want to know where she is now? Do you want to join her?”

The questions exploded like bombs in front of me. I had been raised to educate myself for three hours every morning. I read everything in the house. I learned history, biology, herbology, and even some basic elements of what some people have called magic. It wasn’t much. I wasn’t going to be a Harry Potter or a Mary Poppins, but I did possess knowledge that helped me do more practical chores and conveniences. I laughed when I was able to heal a cut on my own arm, and I loved being able to transport water from the faucet into a glass or through the air into my flowerpots. It wasn’t like the movies I watched where magical people were able to spin books around their heads or cast evil curses on people they didn’t like, but I could perform little pieces of learned magic when I wanted. I was currently trying to learn how to communicate beyond our property. I knew it was odd that I never talked to anyone and that Grandma never let anyone near the house. I also knew life existed beyond the greenery that maintained a barrier between our house and the world beyond.

“Nell,” Grandma said a bit more emphatically, “Are you listening to me?”

“Yes, Grandma.” I answered and looked directly into her hazel-grey eyes. “I am just not sure how you want me to respond. You can be unpredictable when perturbed.”

“I have always appreciated your honesty and candor, my dear,” Grandma Elias said, “But it is time for your education to move beyond books. So, what should we start with?”

Grandma Elias walked away into the grand living room right by the front door. Champagne settled near her chair as she sat down near the fireplace.

“Alright. Why do we always have a fire burning even in the summer? The temperature in this house is always constant and the fire does nothing to change it.” I thought this was a safe question, as it did provide me the chance to inquire about a biological happenstance in this household that had perplexed me for a while.

“Fires help us maintain a balance of essence,” Grandma Elias said without hesitation.

The silence after her bold response hung in the air for a moment. I thought for a moment before I responded.

“Do you mean that because the earth and wind are readily available outside and because there is water in the pipes that the fire constantly burning keeps the elements in check because fire reacts differently to them all?”

“Clever girl,” Grandma Elias said, “Yes. Fire is the source of heat, light, power, life, and destruction. Without fire we are lost, but with too much fire, we die.”

As she said this her eyes drifted toward the flames, and I could see them dancing in her eyes. I had honestly thought she was merely going to say that she liked fires, and this is why we always had one in this room. However, our conversation had turned serious immediately.

I decided to venture in deeper since my curiosity was now piqued. If she was going to answer my questions, then I wanted to ask my real questions.

“Is my mother dead?” I asked with as little emotion as possible.

“Of course not dear,” Grandma Elias chuckled, “She is most certainly alive in the eighth dimension. Her dive into the future was sublime.”

“The eighth dimension?” I asked now completely intrigued, “Where is that? What is that?”

“Beyond the seventh dimension…” Grandma Elias said and then sniggered, “I am sorry. That joke always gets me.” She stroked the back of Champagne who was now snuggling in on her lap. “It is a vision beyond this real realm. People exist there in harmony with no war, no death, and no arguments.”

“Can such a place exist?” I asked with wide eyes thinking back to all of the books and movies I had used to educate myself. There were so many attempts at finding a utopia in all of them that I had a hard time believing a place like the eighth dimension could actually exist with no one knowing about it.

“It does exist, and yes, it is a secret.” Grandmas Elias said and smiled at my furrowed brows. “You marvel at the eighth dimension just as I did. There are billions of people who have lived and died on this planet. How could such a place maintain its secrecy when so many people are in need of it or could use it as a model for civilization’s evolution?”

My mouth had fallen open at this point. Grandma Elias normally knew what I was thinking, but this was too much. She was asking my questions before I could form them into words.

“It is simple, Nell. The eighth dimension stays secret, because once you pass into it, you cannot leave. If you choose the ever-lasting life of harmony, you must remain there. There are no exceptions.”

“So, how do you know about the eighth dimension? If you are here, you must not have ever visited there.”

“Your insight serves you well, my dear,” Grandma Elias said, “I am a guardian of the eighth dimension. I serve to protect the portal and in return I will be allowed to enter before I die.”

“Allowed to enter? Can’t anyone enter?”

“No. Only those who can maintain the harmony are allowed to enter.”

“How do you know if you can maintain the harmony?”

“You don’t. That is the risk that your mother took when she dove out of the window. The window would break if the person seeking admittance to the eighth dimension was not worthy of admission.”

“That’s how you know she survived.”

“Precisely. Once the window closed, I knew she had been admitted.”

“Why did she have to go then?”

“The eighth dimension calls for its people when it has need of them,” Grandma Elias said quietly.

“Have you received a call for me?” I asked.

“Possibly.”

“What do you mean possibly?”

“I am feeling my age, Nell. Life is slowing for me, and it is almost my time to go through the portal. I fear I will need your help to do so and then you may be the last of our line to find a way into the eighth dimension.”

“But if you have not received a call for me, how do I know I am worthy? I have never lived outside of these walls, and I have never proven myself to be able to maintain any sort of harmony with anyone.”

The panic I was feeling started to rise into my voice and I could feel tears beginning to form in my eyes. I thought I would finally get to walk out among the world. I could be free of this house, and its secrecy, but now I must dive further into an unknown dimension where I may or may not make the journey alive.

“You do not have much time, Nell. You must help me now. I must go through the portal tonight.”

As Grandma Elias started to rise from the oak and velvet chair by the fireplace, I noticed that the fire had started to die, and her movements were strenuously labored. She could barely stand, and Champagne had darted from her legs the moment she started to rise. I rushed to her side and lifted her arm over my shoulders.

We took each step slowly all the way to the third-floor landing where the octagon window had started to glow. Grandma Elias’s eyes were drawn to the iridescent light of the window which gave her eyes an almost blank stare. She reached out her arms and made the same gestures I saw my mother make. The window opened and Grandma Elias looked at me and smiled.

“How old are you really Grandma?”

“Two hundred and eight years old,” she replied with a sly smile, “But I don’t look a day over sixty…well sixty-five.”

We both smiled and I saw her legs begin to bend. She looked straight at the opening and dove head-first through the window. It was gracefully powerful, and instantly she was gone. The window closed and darkened, and I was left in the house alone. 

I thought about her words and how my call might come, but my thoughts were interrupted by Champagne. The cat was standing on his hind legs and motioning for me to join him in the grand living room.

“My dearest Nell,” Champagne said with a very thick British accent.

“Are you my call?” I stammered nervously.

“In a matter of speaking,” Champagne continued, “As you know, your Grandmother has moved forward into the eighth dimension.”

I nodded and noticed that the fire was now a smoldering pile of embers. It wasn’t fully extinguished, but it was not aglow either.

“You have been called to become the next guardian of the portal,”

“Me?”

“Yes. In exchange for your service, you will be given the opportunity to join the eighth dimension when your time of service has expired.”

I could feel my stomach and brain turning in opposite directions. 

“You may leave the house whenever you chose to find those whom the dimension calls home. You will need to raise them and help them understand their places among the harmonious. I will be here to instruct and guide you.”

The feelings in my stomach turned light and a sense of pride grew in my mind.

“Yes,” I heard myself say, “Yes. I will be a guardian of the portal and the eighth dimension will remain a place of peace and harmony. I will never let the window break or a call go unanswered.”

At those words, the fire blazed forth with new vitality and I began my new journey as a guardian of the eighth dimension.