The Open Door

Emma cursed under her breath. She could hear "I told you so" ringing in her head. How many times had her mother told her not to leave the front door open? She had lost count, but here she was with the door open and the family cat bolting from the house. Now, their poor cat Pudding Cup was stuck in a tree. She stared up at Pudding Cup, wondering how she would get him down before her mother got home. The only person she thought would be home was Mr Misner, her neighbor, but she doubted he would help her as he was not the friendliest of men. She considered trying to use a ladder herself, but that seemed dangerous. Out of ideas and desperate to get the cat out of the tree, Emma decided to try to persuade Mr Misner to help her.

Emma knocked on Mr Misner’s door and waited. When the door finally opened, there stood an annoyed Mr. Misner, dressed in a button-down shirt and grey slacks.

“What do you want?”

Emma was slow to respond, mesmerized by the shelves full of books.

”Sorry to bother you, Mr. Misner, but my cat is stuck in a tree.”

“Why don’t you wait for your mother to get home? The cat isn’t going anywhere,” he said, still sounding annoyed.

“If possible, I‘d like to skip the lecture from my mother,” Emma said with a smile.

“I see. So you're getting in trouble, is it somehow my problem now?”

“No, if you’re willing to help me, that would be amazing,” she said with an anxious smile.

“This is not a good time, I am in the middle of an important job.”

“I’d be grateful and in your debt,” she said, still smiling.

He thought it over and wondered if another pair of eyes might see what he was missing.

“If I get the cat down, would you read something that I’m writing?” he asked, sounding a lot less annoyed than before.

“You’re a writer? That's amazing,” Emma said, with a huge smile. “I’d be more than happy to help.”

He was taken aback. “You would?” he said, his voice filled with admiration.

“English is my favorite subject. I want to be a writer like Margaret Atwood.”

“Really?” he said with a smile, “Aren’t you a little young to be reading Atwood?”

“I’m 15,” she said, now sounding annoyed herself.

“I’m sorry,” he said with a smile. “I did not mean to call you a child.”

“It’s ok,” she said, “so you’ll help?”

“Fine, let me get my ladder,” he said, going back into the house.

He emerged a short time later, ladder in hand.

The act of rescuing Pudding Cup was simpler than either of them thought it would be. With Emma holding the ladder in place, Mr Misner climbed toward the cat. As soon as he was within arm's reach, Pudding Cup practically leaped into his arms. Pudding Cup had had enough of the tree and the outdoors for one day.

Once the cat was safely indoors, Emma began to ask questions of Mr Misner.

“How long have you been a writer?” she asked.

“I’ve been writing full-time for about 3 years now.”

“What did you do before that?”

“I was a banker.”

“You still look like a banker more than a writer,” Emma wished she had not said that as soon as it left her mouth.

“I guess I still dress like one,” he said with a smile.

Emma was relieved she had not offended him. “Have you published anything?”

“Yes, a few short stories," he said, looking a little embarrassed, “and a couple of drugstore romance novels.”

Emma had to hold in a laugh as that was not the answer she was expecting.

Before she could ask, Mr Misner answered her question. “I have been writing a historical epic on and off for the last 10 years. As I work on it, I need to make some money, and short stories are not enough. Someone in my writing group said romance was easy to write and sold well.”

Not really interested in the romance novels, Emma asked, “What’s the epic about?”

“It is a history of warfare where each war is told from the perspective of a single soldier.”

“Wow, like the Odyssey but without the hero,” she said.

“Sort of,” he said, sounding amazed that Emma understood, “but I want to cover many wars throughout history - one lone soldier in each war. I’ve written 5 chapters so far. I want the reader to feel a personal connection to the soldier and understand the effects of war,” he said.

“I can’t imagine writing something like that. Sounds super hard," she said with amazement.

"Oh, it is, but it's a rewarding challenge. It gives me something to work towards.”

"A book is a legacy it will leave forever," she said, still sounding amazed.

“Legacy? You sure you're only 15?” he said with a smile.

“What, Homer has been read for over 2000 years. Who knows, maybe you’ll be too,”

“Thank you, that might be the nicest compliment I have received, but maybe you should read something I’ve written before lumping me in with the likes of Homer,” he said, turning towards his house. “I’ll be right back with a short story I’ve been working on. I would appreciate your opinion.”

Mr Misner returned a short time later, holding some sheets of paper. “Here you go,” he said, handing her the story. “There is no rush, read it over and get back to me tomorrow.”

“Thank you, I’m sure I’ll love the story. I will return it to you after school,” she said, heading towards her house. “Thank you again for the help, see you tomorrow, Mr Misner.”

“You are welcome, but please call me Albert,” he said before heading back inside his house.

Emma went in and made sure the door was closed before she checked on Pudding Cup. She found him sound asleep on her bed and decided not to bother him. She decided to read Mr Misner’s story at her desk. From just the first sentence, Emma knew she was going to like the story and was looking forward to telling Albert how much she enjoyed his writing. She still could not believe that she lived next to a writer. Smiling, she continued to read the story until her mother got home.