Doorways to Everywhere (Tourist Trap Book 2)

Chapter 13

"Are you okay," Sarah bent down and began stroking his head gently.

"I've suffered worse," he muttered. "Nonetheless, they're dead now. I'm putting out a hit on them if I don't find them myself first. Now I'm heading in and woe to any Chihuahuas I encounter in there."

"Be careful," Sarah called after him as he disappeared into the doorway. "It's too bad that door's too small for any of us to follow him."

"I don't know," Max said thoughtfully. "There's something weird about this door. Like its ability to move across an alleyway. I wonder..."

Max grabbed at the edges of the doorway and pulled the whole door right off the wall leaving solid brick behind it. The door was flimsy and flopped around in his hand like a wet noodle. It also seemed to have an elastic quality to it and he was able to stretch it out so it was much bigger. He walked back to the side of the alleyway where he'd originally seen the door and placed it next to the dumpster. He patted down the edges until they were smooth and then stepped back to admire his handiwork. A dark passageway was revealed in the wall in front of him.

"That's weird," Sarah said after staring at it for a minute. "Well, are you going to see what's in there?"

"Huh?" Max shook his head and blinked his eyes. He had drifted off into a fantasy about swimming with three buxom strippers in a lake full of hard liquor. "Oh. Um, ladies first."

"I'm not going in there first. What if there are more traps?"

"Precisely," Max said. "Why should I risk my neck? It's your purse they stole. You go get it. Besides, I'm the one who figured out how these doors work."

"You're also the one who let them escape into the door with my purse in the first place," Sarah growled. "Now get in there before I stuff you in there." Something about the look on Sarah's face convinced Max that she wasn't going to stand for any arguments on this issue.

"All right, all right! Being the great hero that I am, I will selflessly be the first one into this dark, and in all likelihood dangerous, passage. Never let it be said that Maximillian J. Toad refused to look danger straight in the eye. Sure, the historians may someday wonder if I was afraid on the day that I performed this unmatched act of bravery, but I say to them I know not the meaning of the word 'fear.' Or the word 'zygomaticus' either, for that matter. Nonetheless, as I stand on the brink of this great unknowable abyss, I can't help but think that I regret I never asked out that hot blonde chick that sat in front of me in my government class back in high school. She was one hot little number, I'll tell you what."

"Would you shut up and get in there already?" Sarah asked.

"I'm waxing poetic," Max protested.

"You can wax poetic after you've gone through the door, now move it."

"Okay, fine, don't get your panties in a bunch. Well, here goes nothing." Max took a deep breath turned his head to the side in a pre-emptive flinch and took a tentative step through the doorway. To his great surprise and relief nothing happened. "So far so good," he called back over his shoulder.

"Keep going!" Sarah responded.

The passageway was completely black except for a light that beckoned from the other end. Max walked cautiously towards it waiting for something to come flying out at him at any moment, but luckily no traps were sprung.

When he finally reached the end of the passage he found himself in a small white room that was completely empty except for a very strange machine that took up the entirety of one wall. It had many cranks, gears, and sprockets, and was making a loud chugging sound, but try as he might, Max couldn't fathom the purpose of it. He called Sarah in to have a look at it but she was equally mystified by it.

"There's some weird steam coming out of the top of it," she noticed. "Do you suppose that means anything?"

"Beats me," Max shrugged. "Science was never my forte. Luckily we do happen to have an egghead associate. Maybe that uncle of yours can make some sense out of this contraption."

"That's a good idea," Sarah said. "Let's go back and bring him over here right away."

"Now hold on a second, let's not get carried away here. The doc's working on a much more important problem at the moment. It seems to me a minor trifle such as what happened to your purse can wait until he's solved this disappearing green dilemma."

"Well let's just go back to his laboratory and tell him about this machine. Besides, we should check in with him anyway. Maybe he's made some progress on your issue."

"That's true," Max conceded. "I'm sick with worry that I may lose my beautiful pallor. Let's get out of here."

They went back down the passageway and piled onto Bobby's rickshaw. "To the lab, my good man," Max commanded and Bobby immediately began pulling them along at a brisk pace. In the excitement of the moment, none of them realized Michelangelo still hadn't emerged from the passageway he had entered.

*

Michelangelo found himself in a dark passageway with a light at the end of it, almost identical to the one Max had entered. He made his way slowly downward and didn't encounter a single trap. That is, until he reached the room at the end where he was greeted by a banana cream pie that splattered him in the face. He cursed loudly as he cleared just enough of the goop away from his eyes to have a look around. The room appeared to be completely empty. He poked around for several minutes, pressing on the walls and examining the corners, but he couldn't find anything at all, let alone anything worth guarding with numerous traps.

He finally gave up and decided to head back down the passageway. Unfortunately, instead of a doorway, he encountered a solid brick wall. "What the hell? Did I take some wrong turn in the dark?" He walked back and forth down the passageway several times before he was convinced there were no turns or side passages in it. "Where'd the door go?" he asked aloud as he tapped on the brick wall. If anybody heard him on the other side, they gave no response. He sat down in frustration and pondered the situation.

As he stared at the wall he absentmindedly wiped some more of the pie off his face and licked his finger. "Mmm, banana," he said as he smacked his lips. Momentarily forgetting the problem at hand, he vigorously set about licking his face clean.