Beyond the Threshold

A young man in his early thirties stood up. He wore a gray cardigan with a thin blue tie, and he gestured quite a lot as he began his introduction.

“My name is Trevor Parks. Let me begin by saying it is an honor to be here and have the opportunity—“

Grace simply could not focus. Her heart was pounding. It was unlike her. She normally did not freeze during presentations. And this wasn’t even her final pitch. Yet, it felt like all eyes were already on her.

“—that’s why we believe our experience partnering with local businesses and entrepreneurs for over 15 years will bring a familial, personal touch to our installation.”

This guy is good, Grace thought. I wasn’t even paying attention, and I’d hire him.

“Well said! Thank you, Mr. Parks. Next up: EnviroZen!”

Ronny Tortiani stood up, giving a half curtsy. She didn’t even look at the Harpers as she spoke. Ironic, as her company script clearly emphasized community integration and inclusion.

Finally, it was Grace’s turn.

She took a deep breath, quickly squeezed her husband’s hand, then cleared her throat.

“Ladies and gentlemen, and the visionary Dr. Allin Bookman, I stand before you today as an artist who found her muse in the natural world. Our world. The intricate, awe-inspiring beauty that surrounds us. I've watched in wonder as it’s danced through the seasons, whispering its secrets to those who would listen. I've always believed that our connection to the Earth is the most exquisite masterpiece, and I've spent my life striving to create art that not only reflects this connection but deepens it.”

She held her gaze across the table, tuning out the group around her.

“Dr. Bookman, when I received your invitation, I couldn't help but be humbled and, at the same time, excited. Excited because I see an opportunity amidst these incredibly talented and prestigious names. An opportunity to take the ideas I've cherished all my life and share them with the world in a way I've never imagined. My art is not just about creating something beautiful; it's about telling stories, stories of life, renewal, and the magic of existence. When I walk through a forest or stand before a field of wildflowers, I see stories waiting to be told, and it's my privilege to tell them.

We live in a time when our planet is in dire need of our care. The decisions we make today will echo through the ages, and I believe that art, that beautiful bridge between the human heart and the world outside, can be a catalyst for change.

I am here not just to present a proposal, but to offer you a journey. A journey through the heart of nature itself, a journey through my passion for preserving it, and a journey that I hope, together, we can share with the world.”

“That was incredible!” Jeremy was practically shouting as they walked back to their room. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks. But if I can’t pull this thing off, it’s just talk.” Despite her worry, she couldn’t help but admit she was proud of herself. Nothing they’d practiced came close to what she just produced.

“No, Ronny’s bullcrap was ‘just talk.’” He said quickly. “You captivated back there. Even Madam Hedera was practically in tears.”

“Alright,” she beamed. “But let’s not get carried away…”

He wrapped her in a warm, affectionate hug.

“So what’s the plan?” He said.

“If we’re gonna win this thing. Even make Bookman’s top 3 delegates… we need to think outside the box.”

Jeremy’s orange-slice-wide smile grew larger still.

“I might have an idea where we can start.”

Grace and Jeremy crept across the lawn in the crisp October air.

It was well after dark; their path was lit only by the artificial bioluminescent light poles. They walked for nearly 30 minutes, stumbling through the forest as the brush grew thicker.

“It seemed a lot closer last time,” Jeremy said.

“I have a feeling it’ll be worth it,” said his wife, determinedly. Grace was thinking clearer than ever. She couldn’t quite explain it, but somehow she knew this expedition would add to her life in some way. Whether she was awarded a position in Bookman’s gallery, or if they found nothing but dusty brooms on the other side of the door… she felt like a weight had been lifted. She had been herself and that’s all she could ask for.

Perhaps authenticity is the wellspring of lasting freedom. She thought.

After an hour of pushing through branches, they finally heard the familiar gurgling of water.

“This is it!” Grace exclaimed, barely able to trace the silhouette of the fallen tree in the sparse light. They hurried across carefully, as a fall into the icy water below would be highly unfavorable.

As they approached, the clock tower loomed against the backdrop of night. They could see a distinct glow emitting from the top…

“Just a quick breather!” Panted Jeremy, trying to keep up with his wife. “Then we go up the stairs.”

Grace nodded. He hadn’t complained for one second as she dragged him through the forest. She looked up.

“I don’t remember seeing that.” Drifting above them was a thick, technicolor cloud. It was so dense they couldn’t see the top of the staircase. It swirled gently, each color forming a fractal of effervescence.

“Yeah, no kidding.” They started up the stairs.

As if in response, the clouds propelled long thin strands down as they drew nearer. Grace reached out to catch one and watched as it evaporated on her palm. She felt nothing, but noticed a faint earthy smell. She was just about to voice this to Jeremy when he read her mind.

“Do you smell that? Almost sweet, like strawberries.”

“Strawberries? I’m catching whiffs of petrichor.”

They shrugged.

Finally, they waded through the heavy cloud and saw the familiar three doors. On the left stood a vibrant red door with a sign above that read: FLUTTERBUG ISLAND.

To the right, was a blue square door depicting a cozy scene. Underneath a navy sky full of smiling stars, lay two small figures upon a hill. This sign read: THE REALM OF STARLIGHT.

In the center, was a vibrant yellow door staring back at Jeremy and Grace. They read the small lettering together: THE MAGIC MAPLE.

There was something different in the air, almost tangible, as the two fell silent. Their fingers interlocked just a little tighter and their weight shifted slightly to the edge of their toes. It was as if something on the other side of these doors was pulling them closer and, if they weren’t too careful, would whisk them away to another dimension.

Grace pulled her gaze from the magnetic entrances and looked into Jeremy’s eyes who returned the gesture.

“Which one first?” He said softly.

“This one,” she replied, moving forward and turning the knob to the blue door. As soon as she started to twist the delicate, ivory knob, the door popped open. A thick layer of dust spouted around the hinges.

Coughing, Jeremy met her side. “Together?” He asked.

“Together.”

As soon as they stepped across the threshold, their vision plunged into darkness. Grace’s stomach lurched abruptly as they began falling rapidly.

“AHHHHHHH!” All either of them could get out.

They grasped frantically, kicking their limbs, desperate to find a foothold. Anything to grab onto. Nothing. They continued to fall. The longer it went on, the more anxious they became.

“C-CAB YOU SEE ANYTHING” Jeremy’s voice sounded through the heavy wind rushing into his face.

“NO!” She called back, muffled.

Then a thought occurred to Grace. A wild, ludicrous idea. What if… what if we’re not falling at all?

“Stop squirming!” She ordered.

“WHAT?!”

“Stay still! Try to steady yourself.”

She gulped, steadying her breath. Slowly, she tilted herself forward, careful not to gain too much momentum. Then, she stretched out her arms.

Immediately, she felt lifted up. Not abruptly, but gently, like her whole body was being suspended over a calm pool.

“Spread your arms,” Grace said, her voice sounding much clearer.

Jeremy wrestled with the wind. His upper body upset his balance time and again. Finally, he caught himself.

“Woah!” He yelled back. “It’s like we’re—”

“Flying!” They said together.

After some clumsy trial and error, during which Jeremy performed not two but three cartwheels in midair. Grace took to the idea like a plant in fresh sunlight. She soon adapted to the odd mechanics, discovering that she could control both the momentum and the direction she flew.

She kicked her legs and felt a push in the opposite direction, drifting forward slightly, then back the other way. Eventually, she reunited with her husband and after a few more kicks, she noticed something. The light around them was beginning to change.

“I think there’s something out there!” She said. “Follow me!”

“Not so fast!” He called, trying to keep up.

After a few minutes, the two witnessed a beautiful sight. As if a massive curtain was pulled back, the two drifted into a field of stars all around them. Everywhere they looked they saw speckles of white of every size. A sudden movement caught Grace’s eye.

Jeremy pointed to their left. “A shooting star!” He said.

“So this is The Realm of Starlight,” she said, realizing.

As they explored — moving at a frightening pace in their seemingly limitless environment — they saw a giant green planet floating above them. Far below, they could see the tops of trees: magnolias, oaks, willows, maples…

Grace looked on in awe. “What is this place?”

“Doesn’t look like anything on Earth. The dimensions are all wrong.” Jeremy pointed out.

“We’re flying and you’re worried about dimensions?”

“Fair point.”

They flew lower. Warm orange particles rushed up to meet them, the ground shimmering in the moonlight. It reminded Grace of the Bookman Estate… but there was something surreal that struck her – besides the flying, of course.

It quickly occurred to Grace that there was not a single house in sight. No people, no roads, no cars. Not even a commercial building or billboard. It was as if someone had simply waved a wand, vanishing all traces of humanity leaving only nature, in its purest form.

It’s so… green, Grace thought, eyes watering.

They soared gently down, landing on a small hill thickly padded with moss overlooking a valley. Jeremy saw the familiar tears. Tears he knew were born out of a deep longing for what could be; a future one single race had devastatingly alienated in one violent and expedient swoop.

He put his arm around her. “I know what this place is.” She looked up. “It’s a place of dreams, of desire.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Grace. What’s the one thing you want most in the world?”

She understood. For the thing she wanted most in the world was the world itself. A healthy Earth. A safe Earth.

“But why are we only seeing my dream?”

Jeremy looked at her with a soft, wise smile and said, "Maybe it's because your dream, your vision for this planet, is like a guiding star. It's quite literally the ground on which we've built our dreams. Well that, and I can 100% assure you I would not be flying like that in my dream.”

She laughed. However, she was not fully convinced. Why would the clock tower bring me here? What am I supposed to gain from all this?

“I just don’t get it,” she said sitting down. “We get an invitation to participate in a world-famous display of art. We get lost in the woods and a magical clock tower happens to appear at just the right moment with dry ice effects and the works. And no one else is talking about this place?”

“I admit, it’s weird Bookman or Hedera never mentioned this.”

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s stunning. I just don’t understand how this will help with the project.”

“Hang on, this is all made up right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So that means anything you dream up would just… appear?”

“I guess so. But the whole reason we're here is because I couldn’t think of anything in the first place.”

Silence fell. Occasionally, a shooting star would flash across the black canvas above them and the trees shifted their weight slightly. They sat here for some time until an idea struck Jeremy.

“That’s it!”

“What?” Grace said, startled.

“Maybe you need to think bigger. I mean, we’re in this massive oasis, sure, but there’s no one here, right?” Grace nodded. “Just choosing the antithesis of your problem isn’t exactly the solution. I think it’s more nuanced than that.”

Grace was beginning to understand. “So I have to paint a world in which this oasis can coexist with the present? That sounds like an oxymoron”

“Sort of,” Jeremy replied, scratching his head. “Here. Picture Earth as it is today.”

“I’d rather not…” she mumbled. But, realizing time was running out, she obliged her husband and closed her eyes.

At first, nothing happened. Then, suddenly the bellowing sound of wind picked up around her. Everything turned gray as leaves, trees, and stars all swirled together around the couple. Panicked, Grace opened her eyes.

Everything was calm. This time, they looked over a very familiar scene. Portland. Below, stood their cozy cottage house, filled with a beautiful, healthy arrangement of orchids – cultivated, of course, by Grace herself. It was as if they were sitting on an imaginary floating hill for she knew in the real version of her city they would be sitting in the train station.

“That was crazy!” Jeremy said. “Look there’s Cascadia!” He said pointing to their beloved local café. Grace was shocked.

“What now?” She asked.

“Ok. Focus on one thing that would bring the world closer to bettering itself. Think of something small.”

Hundreds of ideas ran through Grace’s mind. She settled on an idea. “Got it,” and closed her eyes again. After a few moments, she opened them. There had been no rustling noise and everything looked… the same.

“How do we know if it worked?”

Grace knew exactly what to do. “C’mon, we’re going on a field trip.”