There was a door in Jo’s house that she had never noticed before. It seemed as if someone had magically placed it there overnight. It was not in an obscure place, and the color was distinct; a dark brown door in the pale beige wall. Furthermore, Jo had no idea what was beyond the door. It was her home all right, but it was completely alien to her sometimes.

Turning the silver door knob, Jo found it locked. The doorknob was of a simple spherical shape fastened to a rectangular panel on the door. The center was concave with a keyhole in the middle. On the neck of the knob dangled a key tied to a string.

Boy. . . I must be the most observant person in the world, Jo thought as she took the key and fit it into the keyhole. The door glided open, ushering in the pungent and pleasant aroma of freshly cut grass. Looking out, Jo saw a small yard encircling her house. Two blue spruces dressed in a robe of teal needles bordered the wooden fence to the left. At their feet were a cluster of cosmos, some white, others violet. A sidewalk and an asphalt road flanked the garden at the far side. Across the road stood houses with slanted roofs and chimneys, foreign and exotic like the houses that appeared in the picture books Jo read as a child. Hills loomed in the distance, partly concealing the sun striving to outshine the stars of the night.

Jo froze. She blinked rapidly and frowned. She gently closed the door, turned her back to it, and sank to the floor. Then she swiveled her eyes around the room until they landed on a clock. It read twenty past nine. Jo calmly walked to the nearest window in the room and parted the curtain. The moon, a waxing gibbous, was shining admirably bright. Cold sweat broke out on Jo’s palms. Dragging her benumbed feet, Jo returned to the door and tugged it open. The sun was making progress in its conquest of the sky. A cool breeze rushed in, rubbing against Jo’s cheeks as a mother caresses her child. And, without being aware of it, Jo stepped out.

Nothing was like what Jo had known before. No skyscrapers towered over the hectic streets overflowing with people. No air of urgency suffocated Jo. Instead, she was enormously comforted by the serenity that filled the neighborhood.

Mesmerized by the strange yet delightful atmosphere, Jo began to amble down the sidewalk. She marveled over the clear, defectless sky and the unspoiled beauty of the trees. She liked the unhurried manner of the people carefully tending their gardens.

Hours passed before Jo stopped walking. What brought her to a halt was a cacophony of children’s voices, laughing and shouting. Investigating the source of the racket, Jo arrived at a carnival in an elementary school. Little kids ran from booth to booth, playing games and winning cheap trinkets. Many were engrossed in devouring ice creams, cupcakes, cotton candy, and other sweets, most of them homemade by the parents. Some scrambled up gigantic slides and jumped on colossal trampolines with infinite energy. Others were held spellbound by an amateur magician who unfortunately dropped his handkerchief from his sleeve while trying to pull it out of his shoe. On the whole, the carnival was shoddy and flimsy. But this did not matter one bit to the innocent children who had not seen anything better.

Jo ensconced herself in a grassy spot not far from the carnival. Seeing the children frolicking inundated her with memories of her own childhood. She had not always lived in a bustling city, chased by time. Like all other children, she had been able to see the magic in the most trivial things.

“Where d’ya get that?”

“Anyone who gets there last is the rotten egg!”

“. . . mushroom!”

“I got twenty-three bracelets. Beat that!”

To compensate for the eyes that had glazed over, Jo’s ears started to pick up extra sounds. Her shoulders sagged and fell back against the white bark of the aspen behind her. The fluttering of the leaves became one with the din of the carnival and softly lulled to Jo. A golden leaf flitted through the air and alighted on Jo’s hair, but Jo didn’t bother brushing it off. If only the time would stop and I could stay in this world forever.

“Eli! Why don’t you try the dunk tank now?” A mature voice among the high-pitched squeals of the children yanked Jo out of her reverie. A teenage boy, around the age of Jo, was waving toward the giant inflated slide. A young boy waved back at him and capered off to the trampoline with a flock of kids. The teenage boy retired to the grove of aspens, then noticing Jo watching him, approached her.

“Hey. Mind if I sit here?”

“No,” Jo answered, pulling the leaf out of her hair.

“Are you here to look after your sibling too?”

“No. I was just taking a walk around the neighborhood when I saw the carnival.”

“It isn’t exactly the most fun place to sit around.”

“I guess not.” Jo smiled. “It reminds me of my childhood though.”

“Really?” the boy replied skeptically.

“Yes. Wasn’t there a time in your life when you treasured even the cheapest bead necklace? Don’t you miss the time when you believed the magician’s tricks and imagined you could touch the sky on the trampoline?”

“You mean you don’t believe the magician anymore?” The boy grinned. He wriggled himself into a comfortable position before continuing, “I went to this carnival every single year of my elementary school. Now I still come back to chaperone my kid brother. I don’t miss those kind of things. I outgrew them a long time ago.”

“How long did you stay in this neighborhood?” Jo was astonished.

“Oh, like my whole life. Did you move around often?”

“I’m from a gypsy family that’s under the curse of having to move around at least once in four years,” answered Jo in a flat tone. “I never have time to settle down and make friends. It’s the reason I miss carnivals like this. I rarely participated in school events. I hated wandering around all alone.”

“Oh.” The boy briefly wondered what to say. “Then when’d you move here?”

“. . . .”

Jo had no idea what to say. She had even forgotten where she was and how she had gotten there. Next to her, the boy fidgeted nervously, worrying that he had said something wrong.

“Would you believe that I opened a door in my house one night and found myself here?” Jo asked him.

“What do you mean?” The boy furrowed his brow.

“Exactly that. I don’t live in this neighborhood. I don’t even know where I am. I was just taking a break from my homework when I spotted a . . .” Jo stopped suddenly. Homework! I have an essay due tomorrow! How long have I dawdled here?

“Excuse me, I gotta go,” Jo mumbled apologetically and sprinted off the way she had come.