The next afternoon, I resolved to do it right. I moved the bales I'd stacked up
by the door to a corner, and then started cleaning out the back. Before long,
I'd uncovered the door into 1975. "James," Mama called, from the house.
"Dinner!"
I took a long look at the door. The wood on the edges had aged to the
silvery-brown of the rest of the barn-boards, and it looked like it had been
there forever. I could hardly remember a time when it wasn't there.