June 1, 2010
Hilda Brazen, at age 62, was proud of the record she held: never in her life, not once, had she opened a door for herself. At first, it was because she was a child. Later, it was because she was an attractive young woman. But as the years wore on, the reasons she never had to catch a door had less to do with looks and more to do with agility and wiles. As men stopped holding the door open for her voluntarily, Hilda learned to duck through in the split second after they let go, before the door fell against the jamb. She learned to duck and dodge and sidestep, always sliding through before the door could hit her. Sometimes, she distracted people with strange outbursts that confused them, made them hesitate before closing the door. Other times, she struck up conversations with potential door holders…only to abandon them the instant she got on the other side of the door.
Hilda was truly remarkable. She always knew which strategy would best serve her. She always knew exactly what to say or do to get through at someone else’s expense. Sometimes, if no one was around, she did have to wait…but never for long. Her instincts carried her through decades of perfect door dodging; she even had a plaque made a year ago to honor her accomplishment. After all, how many people can say they’ve never had to open a door for themselves?
Then, one day, Hilda went up against a champion of greater skill than herself. This pro door slinger, Baker Chesthair, strolled up and stood on the other side of the door to the library, waiting to get in without opening the door. Inside the library, Hilda waited, as usual, for someone other than her to open the door and let her out. But Baker wasn’t going to budge. He and HIlda engaged in a terrible Mexican standoff that lasted for days. They just stood and stared at each other through the glass, grinding their teeth and squinting with sheer will power.
Finally, Hilda couldn’t take it anymore. Her heart gave way, and she collapsed. When the paramedics opened the door to carry her out, Baker slipped past them victoriously, grinning as he avoided touching the door in any way. His day in the sun as undisputed champion door slinger was just getting brighter by the minute.
But what about Hilda? She remains, to this day, in the purgatorial waiting area outside Heaven’s borders. No matter what, she refuses to open the Heavenly gates and let herself in. But in the afterlife, people can just fly over or through the gates, so nobody ever opens those doors. Hilda never seems to mind, though. She hangs around the waiting place, jumping every time she thinks she hears the gates opening, hoping to slip through just one more time to receive her Heavenly reward. Which, for her, come to think of it, would mostly involve doors swinging open and her scooting through again and again for all Eternity without touching them.
