Yearning for Yesterday: The Door of Echoes

This is the third and final installment of my story for the May Thursday Doors Writing Challenge, hosted by Dan Antion over at No Facilities blog. Photo taken by Robbie Cheadle.

Part 3 & Finale

Nervous, Thea opened the door to her soft sleeper compartment, on the train that would carry her from Lhasa to Beijing. She had no idea what to expect, but the warm smiles of her three compartment-mates immediately put her at ease. A middle-aged woman dressed in jeans and a silk top, sat cross-legged on a bottom bunk, her stocking feet tucked beneath her. She greeted Thea with an enthusiastic “Ni hao!”

The other two passengers, an older Tibetan couple, were more understated but equally welcoming. The husband wore a modern take on the traditional chuba, a tailored wool-blend robe with sturdy hiking boots instead of the knee-high Tibetan ones made of animal skin. His wife, wrapped in a soft white cashmere shawl, wore a flowing, tailored skirt with a silk blouse and comfortable cotton shoes. Her neck was adorned with strands of turquoise beads.

The man hopped down from his bunk as the woman gracefully stood.

Placing his hand on his chest, he bowed slightly. “Baika,” he introduced himself.

The woman followed suit. “Dawa.”

The Chinese woman said, “Ah Lam.”

Thea mirrored their gestures, repeating her name. Baika repeated her name under his breath, almost as if committing it to memory. “Tea-ah.”

With a gentle gesture, the older woman offered to take the top bunk, but Thea insisted on doing so. After stowing her bag, she took a seat beside Ah Lam near the window, while the elder couple settled on the opposite bunk. Baika unfolded the small table in the middle. Thea exhaled, allowing herself to relax as the train lurched forward. She settled in for the forty-hour trip across the roof of the world.

**

Thea watched as the Jokhang Temple faded into the distance. The sight of the Potala Palace filled her with determination. She rubbed the mandolin charm that hung around her wrist and thought of Tenzin. Outside the land unfurled in magnificence. Thea could not look away. Rolling pastures melted into frozen plateaus. Herds of yak dotted the landscape. With every turn, the train unveiled breathtaking scenes, each one worthy of being framed and hung on her wall like a painting. Snow-capped peaks loomed unbelievably close. Prayer flags fluttered in the wind. Nomads waved as they passed, and Thea waved back.

The rhythm of the train lulled her into a quiet calm, pulling her toward the unknown, Beijing first, then Athens. Dawa reached across the middle and offered her a handful of sunflower seeds.

“Thank you,” she said, accepting them with a smile before turning back to the window.

Ah Lam left and soon returned with a large thermos filled with hot water. She asked without words if Thea had a cup. She remembered the one Dolma had given her and eagerly pulled it out of her bag. Baika poured tea for everyone, including her. The three of them watched her sip it. When she gave them a thumbs up, there were smiles all around. The older man laughed deeply. They settled again. Baika fell asleep sitting beside his wife. The women enjoyed watching the world roll by, grasslands, mountains, high-altitude lakes, and desolate Tibetan Plateau landscapes. They commented on what they saw in their own languages, with gestures and smiles, hoping to be understood. After three hours or so, Thea’s head began to ache and her breath became shallow.

We must be near the Tanggula Pass.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. Not again, she thought, remembering her first day and night in Lhasa.

Ah Lam tapped Thea on the shoulder. When she opened her eyes, the woman removed a mask that was built into the wall by her bunk. She offered it to Thea. When she hesitated, Ah Lam insisted that Thea place it over her mouth. A few deep breaths eased the tightness in her chest. The train continued its climb. Still feeling lightheaded and a little unsteady, Thea climbed into her top bunk and curled up under a blanket. She could feel the descent when it happened. Her breathing returned to normal, and the headache eased.

**

Ah Lam left for another water run, and Thea tagged along to stretch her legs. There was a small line waiting at the communal kettles. As she approached, she recognized a man in the line. He turned to face her. His eyes were dark and seemed to shimmer. He gave her a crooked smile. She quickly returned to her compartment. When Ah Lam came back with the water, seemingly confused at Thea’s hasty return, they gathered close to the table. With trembling hands, Thea poured hot water into her Cup Noodles and waited for them to soften.

What do I do if that man approaches me? If he comes here looking for me? Who is he?

As her mind spiraled, the train stopped at a station. She watched for the man she saw in the corridor. Instead, she saw a grizzled-haired man walking past. The man who looked like Elior stepped on to the train, and she felt a measure of peace. Her determination returned. Thea tapped her pocket to again reassure herself of the key’s presence. It vibrated in response.

The Door will guide me, maybe even protect me.

She ate the noodles with her chopsticks, as best she could. She unwrapped the khapse biscuits and added them to the food being shared. They ate while watching the beauty of the scenery outside the window until the sun set. Thea climbed back up into her top bunk, and the others settled for the night as well. The gentle swaying of the train lulled her into a deep sleep.

Daylight brightened the compartment as the train slowed then stopped in Qinghai. Blinking away sleep, she peered out the window. Outside, passengers shuffled along the platform, wrapped in their coats, wrangling their luggage. Soon, the train lurched forward again. The four of them rose, washed in the sink in the compartment, prepared tea, and ate together their shared food in silence. The scenery outside the window changed as telephone poles, factories, and cities came into view. By the second evening, the train slid into the outskirts of Beijing.

As they pulled into the final station, Dawa patted Thea’s hand and spoke something soft and final. She did not understand the words, but she understood the tone. Thea took a selfie of the four of them, and they said their goodbyes. She shouldered her backpack and left the quiet compartment. Stepping onto the platform, she was greeted by the jarring sounds of the city. The weight of the journey and the reason for finding the Door returned in force.

I need to get moving.

**

Thea felt a wave of gratitude for Akar, who had arranged all of her travel plans. Without him, navigating the chaos of Beijing would have been overwhelming. Fortunately, she arrived at the Beijing Capital International Airport with time to spare, and her flight was smooth.

When Thea stepped out of Eleftherios Venizelos Airport in Greece, the heat of Athens wrapped around her like a scarf, the thick, damp Mediterranean air a sharp contrast to the crisp, cool atmosphere she had left behind in Lhasa.

As she made her way to the taxi line, she wondered again, What waits for me here?

The taxi wound through the bustling yet orderly streets of Athens. When they arrived at her accommodation, she opted to splurge on a private room rather than a shared dorm. After she secured her belongings, she asked the manager of the hostel for directions to Plaka, a historic neighborhood nestled at the foot of the Acropolis. The day was over half gone, so she would wander some to get her bearings before climbing the hill to the Acropolis the next morning.

As instructed, she strolled through Zappeio Park, where the air was fragrant with blooming irises, daffodils, and chrysanthemums. Slowing her pace, she inhaled deeply, willing herself to relax.

Passing the White Marble Stadium, Thea felt lightheaded, not from exhaustion but from the sheer weight of history that surrounded her. The ancient architecture and the ambiance of the place was awe-inspiring and humbling. She wandered through a maze of floral and antiques shops as well as art galleries. She stopped at a quirky souvenir shop and bought an owl charm to add to her bracelet as well as a postcard of the Acropolis. She marveled at the Byzantine churches that stood beside bustling cafes, restaurants, and bakeries, while the Acropolis loomed above them all. The aroma of flowers mixed with thyme created a warm and intoxicating fragrance.

Thea’s stomach growled, reminding her that she had not eaten in hours. She stopped at an artopieio. It was difficult to choose what to buy at the bakery as everything looked delicious, until she saw the cheese and spinach spanakopita. It looked exactly like the ones her grandmother used to make. She felt a pang, wishing her mother could experience this place.

I will bring her here someday.

Her thoughts wrestled within her. This was her first time in Greece, the land of her grandparents’ birth. She wanted to savor every moment, yet her purpose loomed ahead. The Door of Echoes waited to be found, and she needed a second chance to make things right.

As if sensing her thoughts, the owl key vibrated ever so gently. She scanned the streets, watching for anyone who might be following her, especially the one with dark eyes. But she saw no one. She eagerly anticipated that as she walked around, the Door would send someone to her, just as it had in Lhasa when she met Tenzin. But no one came up to her. She searched every face for Elior, but she had not seen anyone resembling him since the train to Beijing.

After some time, she bought a chicken-and-beef gyro and returned to the hostel to get some rest. She locked her door and removed the owl key from her pocket.

What does it mean?

She retrieved the map from her bag, smoothing it across her bed. Her fingers traced the edges, and she reread the inscription. She studied the owl key once more, kissing it before tucking it safely back into her pocket. She quickly fell asleep to the humming sound of a ceiling fan.

**

The next morning, Thea returned to the vibrant neighborhood of Plaka, stopping to buy water, an egg pita sandwich, and fruit for later. She had no idea how long she would be searching. From there, she reached the Acropolis ticket booth, waiting in line before beginning the ascent.

She climbed the worn paths and weathered marble stone steps. It felt as though she stepped back to the days of ancient Greece, moving through the ruins as the early morning sun bore down on her, sending sweat rolling down her back. She shivered but not from the heat. She sensed she was close, very close. The Door of Echoes waited. The time was near.

But her momentary thrill was dampened by the sight of someone watching her. A figure. A presence. When she turned fully to look, they were gone.

Other visitors passed her, eager to reach the summit. She took her time, observing, examining everything, and watching for the out of the ordinary. She could not afford to miss it, the door that fit the key.

When she arrived at the Odeon of Herodes Atticus, an open-air theater on the southwest slope of the Acropolis, she gasped at its grandeur. The majestic Roman amphitheaters hosted the world’s greatest performances for thousands of years. She remembered reading about such places in school.

Was it only months ago that I was in school? It feels like years.

Thea finished the final stretch to the top of the hill. She passed among the towering columns of the Propylaia, the gateway to the Acropolis. She slowly circled the grand Parthenon, the main temple to the goddess Athena, that sat front and center. It was breathtaking. The owl key in her pocket trembled. Her pulse quickened. She circled the Parthenon again, looking and watching and observing. A security guard cast wary glances toward her until his attention was diverted by a rowdy tourist, perhaps an “influencer,” who drew too close to the temple to get a better selfie.

After pacing the Parthenon several more times, she sat onto a bench between the large temple and the Erechtheion, a smaller temple beside the Parthenon. The Erechtheion, with its marble columns, had been dedicated to Athena and Poseidon. On the side of the temple was the famous Porch of the Maidens, where beautifully sculpted female figures stood in silent vigilance. Thea sighed in wonder but also exasperation.

Where is it? How do I find it?

**

Movement stirred from behind a fallen marble column inside the Erechtheion. A sleek black cat emerged, patches of fur missing, half an ear torn away. The cat approached and wove between Thea’s legs, rubbing its body against them.

Thea reached down and scratched the cat’s head. “Poor guy. You seem worse for wear.”

The cat sat, fixing Thea with an intense stare. It was as if his expression said, “You should see the other guy.”

Thea chuckled softly, then sighed. “I don’t suppose you know where the door I’m looking for is?”

The cat stretched lazily, then padded forward a short distance before stopping to glance back at her. He took a few more steps and turned again.

“What? You want me to follow you?” She hesitated, then felt a surge of anticipation. Could it be?

The cat flicked his tail as if to answering, “Yes.”

She followed the cat, moving between the Parthenon and the Erechtheion, past the Porch of the Maidens. As she walked, the marble figures seemed to watch her. She turned down a path that led to the back of the small temple, trailing the cat until he stopped under an olive tree, curling his tail around his paws.

Thea glanced toward the ruins of Erechtheion and scanned the area. She turned toward the cat who lounged beneath the tree as if waiting for her to notice something.

She sighed and sat down beside the cat. “I don’t suppose—” she began but stopped.

At her feet lay a trapdoor, with a large, rusted metal ring, and a strange looking lock. Thea jumped to her feet. It hadn’t been there before. Her heart hammering, she glanced back at the cat who now stood. His eyes were a golden color as he looked at her intensely.

“How did I miss that before? Thank you,” she said, removing the owl key from her pocket.

Kneeling, she fumbled with the key, her hands trembling with anticipation. She fit the tip into the lock, then pushed the rest in. A sharp click rang out. She straightened and pulled hard on the large metal ring. The trapdoor lifted, releasing a thick cloud of dust and stale air.

She felt a shift of the wind and a presence behind her. She dropped the trapdoor and spun around to find Elior, Callise, and Mike, standing with their backs to her. Before them, black creatures gathered, wraith-like shadows that swirled in unnatural motion.

“Thea!” Elior shouted over his shoulder. “Go! Find the Door!”

She remained frozen. The scene unfolded as if on a different plane of existence, another reality, separate from the milling tourists and oblivious security guards. The creatures surged toward them—or toward her?

“Thea!” Elior broke into her confusion. “Go!”

She pulled with a groan and the trapdoor lifted. A narrow stairway descended beneath the ruins, barely wide enough for her to fit through. High-pitched screams erupted from behind her. She took two steps then lowered the door with a thud. Darkness swallowed her. She yanked her flashlight from her bag and flicked it on. A loud thunk against the trapdoor above sent her bolting down the stairs. A corridor stretched ahead. At the far end, a door stood. The edges outlined in golden light.

Then she heard it. Her father’s voice, echoing in the corridor. The last night she had seen him. Tears pricked her eyes as she ran the rest of the way down the corridor to the Door. She forced the owl key into the lock, hoping it would work, and turned the key. The Door flew open inward. Thea was pulled through.

She stood in the entryway of her house in Farmville, Virginia.

**

Her grandmother greeted her. Thea fell into her arms. “Yia-yia,” she cried.

They embraced; her grandmother’s warmth and familiar scent wrapped around her like a cherished memory.

“I love you, little one.” Her grandmother’s smile was as bright as she remembered it.

“I miss you, yia-yia,”

“I miss you too.”

She led Thea down the hall toward the living room.

Thea froze when she heard her father’s voice. “Thea, can you come here?”

“Dad,” she whispered.

She flew across the living room and hugged her father tight, refusing to let go.

“Um, well, that’s nice, Thea,” her father said, laughing softly, taken aback. “Come sit with me. I want to talk to you.”

They sat together on the couch. “You need to get out more, Thea. You can’t stay in your room all the time.”

She met his gaze and nodded. “Okay.”

Her father hesitated.

“I understand, Dad. You want me to meet people. Have wonderful experiences. Enjoy life.”

His eyes softened. “Yes. Yes, that’s exactly it.” her father exhaled. “If you apply yourself, you can do anything.”

“I will. You don’t need to worry about me anymore.” Her voice was steady, though tears threatened. “I love you.”

He pulled her close, arm wrapped around her shoulders. “I love you too, princess. I’m proud of you.”

Thea swallowed hard. “Thanks, Dad.”

“When I was in the army, I saw so many places and met extraordinary people—”

She sat quietly, cherishing the sound of his voice. When he was finished reminiscing, they sat together without speaking. When it was time for him to go to bed, she hugged him tight and held on for an extra while. When he disappeared around the corner, the room spun. She was pulled down the hallway and out the door. Instead of the corridor she had followed to the Door, she found herself in some sort of vortex, a dark nothingness. And then, she sat on the bench on Main Street.

**

It took a little time for the dizziness to settle. Feeling a presence beside her, she turned to find Elior sitting there.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Thea swallowed, then shook her head. “Yes.”

“Did you get your moment back?”

“So, it wasn’t just a dream?”

Elior smiled faintly. “Look,” he said, gesturing toward her wrist.

The silver charm bracelet from Tenzin was there. She fondled the mandolin and owl charms, then noticed her backpack and bag resting in the grass beside the bench.

Remembering, she met Elior’s gaze. “Who were the dark creatures?”

He didn’t answer who they were, but he said, “They seek the Door of Echoes. They wish to change one event that would destroy this world.”

Thea sat straight. “Is it possible to change an event in the past?”

Elior gave her a knowing and sympathetic expression. “You cannot change death.”

She leaned back against the bench. “I thought as much. So—you are the Door’s protectors; you, Callise, and Mike?”

“We protect the seeker of the Door.”

Thea exhaled. “I am grateful I had my second chance. I can move forward now.”

Elior nodded. “That is what matters.”

They sat together and spoke a little longer. Thea glanced again at her bracelet. When she returned her gaze, Elior was gone.

**

One week later, Thea and her mother stood arm-in-arm, staring at the wall above her bed. She had hung the black and white photo of the Potala Palace, the animal skin map of Greece, a pair of chopsticks, a ticket stub from and the postcard of the Acropolis, and photos of Tenzin, Dolma, Akar, Baika, Dawa, Ah Lam, and her friends from South Dakota. Callise and Mike had refused to have their photos taken. She suspected she knew why. On the nightstand sat the owl key.

Her mother sighed. “You had a meaningful adventure. I’m happy you found what you were looking for, dear. You’ve changed so much in just a few months. You seem all grown up.”

Thea laughed. “Not quite.”

“What about the future?”

Thea smiled softly. “I think I’ll apply to college next semester. I’d like to study archaeology and history,” she said, remembering Elior’s last words.

“There are more Doors, Thea, when you are ready to find them.”

~~

Thank you for stopping by and reading my story, Part 3! If you would like to read Part 1 and 2, click here and here.

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