Aladdin was not happy that afternoon. The summer sun beat down, still hours from setting. On a normal day he would be resting in the shade of Aunt Haneen’s courtyard, perhaps eating a date or two, perhaps planning the evening’s events with Kalim and Mustafa, his two best friends. But today he was out in the heat, wandering the village, searching for his young brother Almanzor, who had been chased home by bullies twice in the last fortnight. Now their mother worried when the eight-year-old was not home by siesta.
“He’s all right, Mom, he’s just making friends,” Aladdin protested.
“Then you find out who those friends are and where he is … right now!” his mother commanded, and she shooed him out into the heat of the day.
In truth, Aladdin had no idea where Almanzor was. But it was no big deal to find a kid brother. You simply asked anyone.
Most of the adults listened politely and two remembered seeing Almanzor heading for the main plaza. Inwardly Aladdin groaned. Tomorrow night was the new moon. When he got to the plaza it was crowded with strangers and their camels, horses, and wagons, getting ready for the New Moon Bazaar that would begin at dawn.
Aladdin did the sensible thing. He waited to spot Almanzor while resting in the shade of an unhitched wagon.
Nearby, two village oldsters sat in a doorway watching the activities on the plaza. In Induslan, Aladdin had paid little attention to such old fossils, who spent most of their time talking about what they did when they were young and were prone to call on nearby youngsters to run silly errands.
But his ears perked up when a little boy ran up to the old men crying, “Elders, Elders, I saw the door.” The men immediately stopped prattling and became dead serious in a patronizing way.
“Very good, little bright eyes,” one of the old men said. “Was Muntassir there watching it?”
“No, he’s where it was. It’s moved again.”
“Just in time for the bazaar, it makes sense.” The two nodded knowingly to each other, then the first old man shouted into the room behind him, “Maryah, do we have a spinerov candy for young bright-eyes here?”
“Spinerov candy!” thought Aladdin, “Fat chance! There hasn’t been any spinerov candy since the iron men marched on Induslan.” Aladdin was sure of this because he loved spinerov candy.
“No,” a woman said from inside, “there is still none to be had, anywhere.”
Aladdin nodded and mentally taunted, “I told you so, you old fossil. If there was spinerov candy in this town, I would have it!”
“Ah, but this young lad has found the door.”
Moments later an old woman came out with two pieces. Aladdin’s jaw dropped.
The old man handed one piece to the boy. “So, young one, go find Muntassir and show him where the door is now. Run along now, hurry!”
The boy ran off. It was clear that the sooner he found Muntassir, the sooner he’d get that second piece. The old men watched in silence to make sure the child was truly headed off on his mission, then went back to talking. With great effort, Aladdin caught up with the child at the far end of the plaza.
“Hey, what’s this door you’re talking about?” said Aladdin half out of breath.
The child was nervous. He looked about six.
“I ain’t gonna hurt ya. I just want to know what’s so special about this door?” Aladdin said.
“You’re one of the strangers, aren’t you?” the boy said.
Aladdin was real tired of hearing this, but he was patient. “Yeah, I’m Aladdin from Induslan.”
“I’ve seen you in the marketplace. I guess you’re all right. Anyway, we have this magic door.”
“Magic door? How do you know it’s magic?”
“Because only kids can see it. That’s why I told the elders. We kids all learn that if we see the magic door, we need to tell the elders so they can guard it.”
“Why do they have to guard it?”
“Because it’s bad magic. It eats kids. It looks real neat, but no kid who’s gone in has ever come out again.”
“Sounds neat, can I see it?”
The child looked him up and down.
“ … I don’t know,” he said. “You look pretty grown up to me.”
“I’ll be a warrior next year.”
“Then you’re probably too old.”
Too old? This sounded so strange to Aladdin. When had he ever been too old for anything neat?
“Well, at least let me try,” he said.
“I’ve got to tell Muntassir.”
“Tell you what: You take me by the door right now so I can see if I can see it, and I’ll give you a piggy-back ride to Muntassir.”
It took some more convincing, but the boy—his name turned out to be Achmed—led Aladdin to a small courtyard near the plaza. These days the buildings around this courtyard were used for storage of old tack and hay. It was the sort of place that kids love to wander in and adults come to only when there is need.
“There it is,” said the boy, pointing at a wall near one of the corners.
“Where?” Aladdin was looking hard, but seeing only a wall covered with pegs holding odd leftover straps.
“See. You’re too old,” Achmed said matter-of-factly. “Now give me a piggy-back ride to Muntassir.”
“You’re not kidding me, are you?” said Aladdin. He looked again. There was nothing, but when he looked away, it was … it was … still nothing, but maybe something.…
“No! I told you, you’re too old. Now don’t weasel out. Give me my ride!”
Aladdin shrugged, and got Achmed on his back. Just then Almanzor came into the courtyard from the other side. He looked at the wall and gasped with delight.
“He sees it,” said the boy.
Almanzor rushed for the wall.
“Why’s he doing that?” asked the boy.
“Allah forfend! He’s going in!” said Aladdin.
He dumped the six-year-old and ran for Almanzor, shouting, but his brother was transfixed by whatever he saw and continued his headlong rush.
Aladdin was faster and reached the wall a half step before Almanzor, but the boy knew where he was going and Aladdin didn’t. He ducked by him and disappeared!
Achmed came running up. “Oh neat!”
“What’s neat? That my brother has been eaten by a magic door!” Aladdin was about to slap the boy, when he noticed the look in his eyes. This boy was envious.
“You want to go, too?”
“I can’t. It’s not allowed.”
“I’ll go with you. I’m allowed to go. No one has told me I can’t.”
“They haven’t?” Achmed considered carefully. This close to the door, the spell was strong and Aladdin’s logic seemed irrefutable. “All right, let’s go!”
The boy lunged for the wall; Aladdin grabbed him, barely. “Whoa, remember I can’t see this door, you’re going to have to guide me. In fact, now I’ll give you that piggy-back ride I owe you.”
Somehow, Aladdin got the boy on his back. It wasn’t easy, the spell was strong and Achmed was all squirms and bounces now, anticipating this adventure.
The boy pointed at the wall. “There.”
Aladdin held his breath, closed his eyes, and walked slowly into the white adobe wall.