The Open Door Read Free

frequented. They had been waiting a month for the event;
Scott even had the poster tacked to his bedroom wall as a
reminder.
    Cameron arrived at Scott’s house early in
anticipation of the event. He had a chrome Mongoose bike that was
the envy of many riders at their middle school.
    Scott rode a white GT with all of the
trimmings, and every time he would ride, he dreamed of becoming a
sponsored BMX professional. No more school, just riding all
day—every day. What a life! Scott thought.
    They rode to the shop in eighty-degree
weather with clear blue skies. It was like a dream, and they both
grinned ear to ear the entire ride, anticipating the awe-inspiring
acrobatics displayed by the seasoned riders.
    Excited about the combination of perfect
weather and seeing BMX celebrities, Scott and Cameron pedaled fast,
taking a few off road paths along the way just for fun.
    They arrived early enough to find a good spot
in front where they could study the riders normally only seen in
their favorite magazines.
    For two hours straight they watched in
amazement as the valiant riders took turns performing gravity
defying stunts.
    After the show, Cameron and Scott were able
to get a few autographs before going to their respective homes.
    A tall glass of ice cold lemonade and a
shower sounded good after the bike ride to and from the event, not
to mention, standing out in the heat for over two hours squeezed
nearly every ounce of moisture from Scott’s pores.
    Scott made it back a little over an hour
before his father would be home from work, drank his lemonade, and
picked out new clothes to wear after the much needed and
anticipated shower.
    He locked the door behind him after entering
the bathroom, turned on the water, adjusted it to just the right
temperature, and then stepped in, feeling instant relief.
    The pressure of the warm water relieving
tensed muscles felt amazing, but he needed to finish in time for
his father to get home and have dinner.
    Scott stepped out into the air, which now
seemed cold compared to the roughly hundred-and-four-degree water.
He grabbed a towel, and dried off quickly to be rid of the
chill.
    Walking over to the mirror, Scott reached out
to wipe off the steam, and was disconcerted and startled at what
his eyes had gazed upon. Selehpotsihpem, had been pressed
into the vapor on the mirror.
    Water still dripped down from the letters as
if someone had just finished pressing on the surface with their
fingertip. At second glance he realized the letters had been
written backwards. He picked up another mirror and held it up to
corroborate his theory. The mirror now spelled: Mephistopheles.
    Still horrified at the thought that someone
or something had written on the mirror while he showered, Scott
gathered his thoughts, and grabbed a pen and paper so he could
write down the correct spelling of the word. He then grabbed a
thesaurus and a dictionary to try and locate the foreign name and
find the meaning.
    Unsuccessful at locating the name, Scott
called his friend Cameron, and asked him to go through his parent’s
library of books. Ten minutes later, the phone rang.
    “Hello?” No response. “Who’s there? Cameron?”
Scott asked desperately.
    “Yeah, it’s me, Cameron.” He said
hesitantly.
    Cameron was quiet, as if ashamed, or possibly
frightened of his findings. His voice even shook during the few
words, which he spoke.
    Growing impatient, Scott asked, “What did you
find?”
    “Satan,” Cameron forced out, as if it pained
him to say the word.
    “It means Satan?”
    “My parents have every Bible and concordance
imaginable. It means exactly that. Look up Satan in your thesaurus,
and you should find your word there.”
    He was right. Between Belial and Lucifer was the word written on Scott’s mirror.
    Scott thanked his friend, and nearly
speechless, Cameron quietly murmured, “Talk to you later,” and then
hung up.
    Scott ran to the bathroom to take another
look at the mirror, but the steam had already