While walking home, Antony told Ayanna the rest of his idea. She suggested the last day be: Give Happiness. That wasn’t snappy enough, but he liked the sentiment. By the time they had gotten home, the final two days had morphed into day three: Forgiveness; day four: Give Joy. Give Joy, there would be a party for all the members of the church, catered, and they would be encouraged to do a gift exchange, as well as adopt a family in the community to give them the things they needed for the next year all the way from food to small, nice things that would make their lives easier.

That night, while Ayanna and his grandmother slept soundly in the living room, even though they were claiming to watch a movie, he drove to the fields. Because of the cold and snow, the only people around were the military guys as usual. People already cared so little about the doors that only one of the military guys was carrying a machine gun in his arms. Everyone else was armed, but they no longer all had to patrol as if ready for violence. His grandmother had told him this would happen. The door had been met with so much violence and hostility when it first appeared. People tried to cut it, shoot it, smash it, set it on fire, legislate, and once they realized it was uncontrollable, unkillable, and unknowable, most called it a hoax or ignored it.

The solar lights formed a perimeter around the door, so the area was constantly lit up bright white. Antony hated it; he wanted to be able to pray and think without feeling he was on stage. Someone was in the barn, probably one of the teens having a hard time at home or one of the military guys making himself coffee for the cold night. He struggled to remember their names, all of them were Kyles or Mikes with short hair and square jaws. Antony did remember Malik, but that was easy, he always remembered the names of other Black guys.

In the white lights made even brighter by all the snow, Antony whispered to the door about his plans. It was still hard not to be self-conscious, even though all over the world there were people whispering to statues, to walls, to rosaries, and up to their ceilings, hoping for answers. It was one of the most interesting things about people, the way they often seemed more comfortable with objects or an unknowable God but, most of the time, could not ask for comfort from the people they knew best.