Attic, part 39

“You are quite correct,” Mr. Symarian said. “But it is not that simple. This is undoubtedly an expression of some unconscious conflict. In your — er, our — world such a conflict merely leads to neurosis, or worse. In a magical world the same conflict will tend to manifest itself physically, as a riddle embedded into the world itself.”

“Hell,” Sid said, “if we’ve figured one thing out, it’s that this whole damned place is some kind of manifestation of the kid’s grandma. Including that big scary dog.” As he said this last part, he looked around nervously.

“Which means,” said Josh, “that to solve this riddle we probably need to understand something about Jenny’s grandmother.”

“Wait,” Jenny said. “This is familiar. I remember my mom telling me grandma Amelia loved silly riddles. One of her favorites was about a door.”

Suddenly Charlie started laughing. “Hey kids, I think I’ve got it. But it’s really stupid.”

They all looked at him. “C’mon, you know it,” he said, grinning from ear to pointy ear, “when is a door not a door?”

Josh and Jenny answered at the same time. “When it’s ajar!”

The travelers all turned to look at the pile of abandoned junk in the corner of the alley. But this time they knew to look at the jars. And inside one of those jars was something that looked very much like a doorknob.