Michael knew there was something wonderful about the pond the minute he saw it.  

They were at their grandfather’s house for two months, and these woods were the only form of entertainment he had. This pond was going to save his summer. His sister took one look at the murky, greenish water and told him to stay away from it.  She warned him that it was probably full of nasty bacteria.  But Michael had never been good at listening to warnings.  

The very next day he dived in.  It was cool and refreshing and much, much deeper than Michael had thought.  Near the edge, he could touch the muddy bottom with his feet, but three paces in, the water was over his head, and the floor dropped down steeply.  Michael was a strong swimmer.  He always had been.  His mother said he was part fish.  It was harder than he thought to kick all the way to the bottom, but it was worth it.  What he saw there made the rest of his air whoosh out of his body, so that he had to shoot to the surface to breathe.

He was only up for a minute, and then he dove again at top speed.  He could see it through the gloom this time as he approached it: a huge stone archway.  There was writing around the edges.

Heed the danger, friend.

DO NOT PASS

Turn back before it is too late.

Go home while you can.

STAY AWAY

Each warning was in a different handwriting, and some looked much older than the others.  Slowly, Michael approached the arch.  It didn’t look dangerous.  He reached out a hand and touched it.  Nothing happened. He had half expected an electric shock or something.  He considered another trip to the surface to breathe and thin it through. But really, he could see both sides of the arch.  The same green water.  The same brown muddy bottom.  The stone of the arch looked like it had grown straight out of the earth, solid and immovable.  

Michael read the warnings again.  He shrugged.  He had never been good at listening to warnings.

He swam through the arch.

Nothing happened.  Michael was deflated.  He shot to the surface for air.

The brilliant colors caught his attention first.  When he had left, the woods were green and brown, the leaves so thick that the light was dim.  Now sunlight showered down and he saw reds, yellows, oranges, purples.  Purples?  Michael pulled himself out of the water.  The nearest tree was small, its bark brown but somehow soft looking.  The leaves were yellow and hanging among them were large round purple discs.  He reached out and touched one.  It was smooth and hard.  It looked so much like candy that Michael couldn’t help himself.  He knew he shouldn’t.  His mother had warned him not to eat things that grow in the woods.  You never know when something might be poisonous.  But Michael had never been good at listening to warnings.

The purple thing was candy, and it was delicious.  Michael was still sucking on it when he realized that the tree trunk had melted a little where he had put his hand while picking the purple candy.  He leaned closer and licked it.  It was chocolate.

After that, Michael was too busy eating to think about anything else.  Only when he had eaten so much that his stomach felt tight and his head dizzy from too much sugar did Michael begin to think of going home.  He wasn’t sure how it worked, but this was obviously not the same woods he came from.  Somehow the arch had brought him here, so it would take him back again.  He swam down and looked at it again.  The same arch.  The same warnings.  This time he swam through from the other side, headed home.

When his head broke the surface, Michael knew at once that it hadn’t worked.  He was no longer in the candy forest, but he was definitely not in his grandfather’s woods, either.  The trees here were so tall he could barely see the leaves above him.  The trunks were smooth and straight like pillars in a cathedral.  In fact, the whole place had the still, silent feeling of a church.  As Michael climbed out of the water, he noticed that the ground was covered in a thick carpet of leaves.  They crunched underfoot, giving off a faint scent that reminded Michael of candles burning and Christmas cookies in the oven.  He was dripping wet but didn’t feel cold at all.  The air seemed to snuggle around him, warming his skin without making him feel hot.  A few steps away was a pile of boulders.  Michael sat on the nearest one to think.  All thought was surprised out of his head when the rock proved to be softer than the softest pillow.  He lounged back on the pile, feeling more comfortable than he ever had in his life.  He thought he would just rest here for a minute before swimming back down to the arch.  In moments, he was asleep.

When Michael woke up, he felt so rested he thought he could run a marathon.  Instead he stared at the pond.  Obviously the arch could take him to different places, different worlds he guessed from what he had seen (and tasted and felt).  Wonderful worlds.  Worlds anyone would want to visit.  Why would anyone warn him away from such worlds?  

One possible reason presented itself, but Michael ignored it.  Of course he wasn’t lost forever. Of course the arch would eventually take him home.  There were only so many possible worlds, right?  Sooner or later, he would show up in his own.  To keep from thinking about this any more, he dived into the water.

Through the arch.  Up to the surface.  Weeping willows with branches trailing into the water on every side.  Some sort of sad music playing off in the distance.  Michael dived.

Through the arch.  Up to the surface.  Rubbery trees swaying in a wind so strong Michael’s hair was whipped in every direction.  A strange smell of burning sugar drifted on the wind.  Michael dived.

Through the arch.  Up to the surface.  Night time, no trees, only small round shrubs in every direction glowing with some unearthly light.  Michael dived.

Through the arch.  Up to the surface.  Sheets of rain so thick it was impossible to see the bank of the pond.  A fork of lightening.  Michael dived.

Through the arch and through the arch and through the arch.  World after world after world, none of them familiar.  Michael began to feel desperate.  All the energy he had gained by sleeping on the pillow rocks was gone, but still his fear spurred him on.  His legs and arms felt weak, but he dived and dived and dived again.

Through the arch.  Up to the surface.  A grey sky.  Blackened stumps on every side, smoke still rising in places.  A shout, harsh and unintelligible.  Pain bursting through his shoulder.  The shaft of an arrow sticking out.  Michael dived.

Swimming was agony.  His right arm was useless.  He could see his blood clouding the water around him.  The arch down below seemed impossibly far.  In desperation he kicked.  The next world had to be his own.  It would certainly be the last.

Through the arch.  Up to the surface.  Dim light.  Warm air.  Familiar trees.  Home.

Michael staggered up on the bank and collapsed.  Blood seeped from around the arrow, but the pain seemed far away now.  The whole world seemed far away.

A shout.  A soft touch.  His sister’s face, set with worry.  A sharp pain.  The arrow was gone.  Capable hands wrapped his shoulder tightly.  A bottle was raised to his lips.  Water…and something else.  Michael came suddenly wide awake.  He was being carried on a stretcher.  He couldn’t see who was behind his head, but his sister was carrying his feet.

“I’m so glad you were here,” he whispered. “I don’t think I could have made it home.”

That familiar smile was a little puzzled now.  That familiar voice answered, but with words he could not understand. Michael’s heart constricted.  Another voice answered from above his head, words in the same strange language but in a voice he recognized.  It continued, haltingly in English, “Do not fear.”

That voice. It couldn’t be. Ignoring the pain, Michael twisted to look up.  His own face stared back at him in wonder.  His own hands carried his stretcher. 

In mindless terror, Michael lurched to his feet, stumbling toward the pond with the last of his strength.

The voice that was his and yet not his followed him. “You must not!  Your wound!”

Michael had never been good at listening to warnings.  

Michael dived.

“I like Grandpa’s house, Mommy.  There’s lots of places to play.”

“Me, too, little Joe.  Did you have fun exploring today?”

“Mm-hm.  Mommy, what would you do if you found a door in the side of the mountain?”

“That would be very mysterious.  I would wonder what was inside.”

“What if you went right in and it was too dark to see anything?”

“I would probably go get my flashlight.”

“What if you saw a pile of candles and some matches right by the door?”

“Oh.  I would definitely light a candle and go exploring.”

“And what if you discovered a long, long tunnel that went right into the heart of the mountain?”

“I would keep right going until I saw what was at the end.”

“What if you got really hungry and thirsty walking so, so far, and when you got there, you saw a table full of yummy food and a big cup of juice?”

“I would be pretty suspicious of food inside a mountain, but if I was that hungry and thirsty, I might be tempted to eat and drink just a little bit.”

“What if you drank some juice and then fell fast asleep?”

“I would think that I probably shouldn’t have drunk that juice.”

“And what if you woke up and the room was full of animals?”

“I would be pretty confused and maybe a little scared.”

“What if you saw that the animals were all wearing clothes and dancing around to pretty music?”

“I would be really amazed.”

“What if just then you noticed that your shoes and coat were missing?”

“I suppose I would be worried that my mother would be mad.”

“But what if you looked over and saw that a mountain goat was wearing your coat and a baby bear cub was dancing in your shoes?”

“It would make me pretty mad.  I might go right over and ask for them back.”

“But what if they just laughed at you?”

“Then I would tackle that bear cub and get my shoes back.”

“What if his mother came along and picked you up and put you in the corner.”

“I would stay in the corner.”

“What if the animals danced for so long that you fell asleep again?”

“I would be afraid that I was missing dinner.”

“But what if you woke up and the animals were gone and your shoes and coat were sitting next to you on the floor?”

“I would put them on and run home as quickly as I could.”

“What if your shoes didn’t seem to fit anymore and running was too hard?”

“Then I would walk, I guess.  And I would be pretty mad at that bear cub for stretching out my shoes.”

“Mommy?”

“Yes, little Joe?”

“Are you going to go into town tomorrow?”

“Yes, Grandpa wants me to pick up his medicine.”

“Do you think you could get me some new shoes while you are there?”

Once there was a boy named Josiah, and he decided to dig a hole all the way to China.

Josiah had recently started Kindergarten, and one of the first things he learned was that the Earth is a gigantic ball.  The place where Josiah lived was on one side of the ball, and all the way around on the other side were far off countries like China.  Josiah had always wanted to visit far off countries.  He had thought he would have to wait until he could drive a car or fly an airplane.  He didn’t know there was a direct path to them, straight down.  There were no streets he wasn’t allowed to cross under the ground, just dirt, and he was allowed to get as dirty as he wanted between school time and dinner.

Josiah had a corner in the back yard that was all his own, so that is where he began.  He worked alone.  When he had announced that he was going to dig a hole to China, his father had said, “That’s nice,” and his mother had said, “Just be back in time for dinner.”  His older brother, George, had laughed and said, “You are such a baby.  You can’t dig to China.  Under all the dirt is rock, you know, and you can’t dig through that with a plastic shovel.  Besides, you would have to go through the center of the earth, and that is lava.  No one can go there.”  Even though he hated being called a baby, Josiah liked his brother’s answer best.  Sometimes it is better to be laughed at than ignored.  

Plus, his brother’s answer was useful.  Josiah added a hammer and a bucket of cold water to his list of supplies.

Josiah worked hard.  He dug down deep with his shovel and piled the dirt in a neat heap next to his hole.  He had only gone down as deep as his elbows  when he found the first bone.  Josiah held it up and brushed the dirt off.  It was small, and he knew it was probably an old steak bone that his dog, Stella, had buried.  She liked to stick bones in the ground and come back for them later.  Still, a bone looks very different when you pull it out of the ground than it does when you see it on your plate after dinner.  He was still examining the bone when his next door neighbor stuck his head over the fence.

“Coooool!” said Alexander.  “You found a bone!  It’s like you’re a paleontologist.  I learned all about them at the museum.  They dig up dinosaur bones.  Can I come dig with you?  I want to be a paleontologist, too.”

Josiah considered.  Being a scientist who dug up dinosaur bones sounded fun.  And with two people digging, he would get to China twice as fast.  He told Alexander to get a shovel.

Josiah and Alexander got to work.  Working together, the hole was soon twice as wide and getting deeper by the minute.  They found several more bones.  Alexander told Josiah all about dinosaurs, and they decided that what they had found was a baby dinosaur, since the bones were so small.  They figured that no one had ever found the complete skeleton of a baby dinosaur before.  Once they put the whole thing together, they would be famous.  They dug until they had a small pile of bones and the hole was so deep they had to jump down inside to dig more.

“I’m supposed to tell you that we have half an hour until dinner,” said a voice.  It was Josiah’s cousin, Roland.  Roland and his family had come to dinner, and he was sent outside to play until the food was ready.  “Whoa!!” he said when he saw the hole with the pile of bones next to it.  “It’s like you guys are in a war!  I read about how soldiers dug trenches to hide in when they were fighting.  You must be pretty good soldiers.  I can see the bones of your enemies!  Can I play, too?”

Josiah considered.  It had been a while since they found any more bones, and being a soldier sounded pretty exciting.  Plus, three people digging instead of two would make a path to China even faster.  He told Roland to hop in.

Josiah and Alexander and Roland got to work.  The trench was not deep enough to hide them from enemy bullets, so they had to dig down to get their heads out of sight.  Every few minutes enemy fire would rain down on them, and they would drop their shovels and grab their guns to defend themselves.  This only made them dig faster when the attack was over, though, and they soon had an admirable trench for their own protection.  They had just fought off a particularly fierce advance when Josiah’s mother called them in to dinner.

Climbing out of the hole, the three boys shook hands solemnly.  It had been a good day’s work.

“So you couldn’t make it all the way to China, widdle baby?” asked George before bed.

Josiah shrugged.  “You can’t dig to China in one day,” he said.  “I’ll dig again tomorrow.”

Josiah got in bed, his arms aching from all that digging, and thought about how his grandma always said the road to a place is more exciting than the place itself.  He had never believed her before, but now he saw what she meant. 

He thought of being a paleontologist and a soldier.  

He wondered what else he would get to be on the road to China.

Tommy was miserable.

It was bad enough that he had to leave his old school and his old friends, pack up all his stuff, and go live someplace he’d never even seen.  Now it was worse.  Standing and looking at the place he was supposed to live, he thought he might cry.

The lighthouse stood out on an island, its glass top winking in the sunlight, its highest tip pointing straight at the sky.  All around were rocks and waves.  Tommy couldn’t see anything else.  Who would be his friends here?  What would he do?  It would just be him and his parents and some seagulls.

“It will be an adventure,” his mom said from behind him.  “You love adventures.”

She had been saying that over and over for the last three weeks.  Tommy didn’t think he believed her.  An adventure?  It was so quiet here he felt bored already.

As they rowed the small boat across the water to the lighthouse island, Tommy looked up at the white shape towering above him.  There were no windows anywhere except at the very top where the light would shine out.  He imagined himself living in the dark down below.  Maybe he could pretend it was a cave for him to explore.  If only it weren’t so small.  Tommy sighed.

They got out of the boat and hauled their suitcases up to where a set of stairs wound around the outside of the  lighthouse.  Tommy’s eyes widened.  “You mean we have to carry our stuff up there?” he asked, not caring that he sounded very whiny.  His mom just nodded and started up.  Tommy muttered under his breath but he did the same.  Panting for air, he pictured himself climbing these steps every day.   He imagined hauling groceries up here.  His mom always made him unload the groceries.  Tommy shuddered.  This place was going to be so much work there wouldn’t even be time to play.

Finally they got to a door.  They were very high up now.  Tommy’s mom turned to look at the view.  “See!” she raised her voice a bit over the wind.  “It’s beautiful.  Already an adventure.”

Tommy turned and looked.  The ocean looked flat from up here and stretched on forever.  Even from this height, Tommy couldn’t see any other houses on the land behind them.  He opened the door and went inside.

“Your room is just over there,” said his mom.  “There’s a button next to it that opens it up.”

Tommy stared at her.  A button?  He pressed it.  The door slid open like it was on an elevator.

Tommy looked at his room.  It was very small.  He set his suitcase on the narrow bed and turned around.  If he stretched out his arms, he could almost touch all the walls.  A small desk was next to the bed.  A thin plastic thing was attached, which looked like it would fold down and be a place to sit.  The desk had a computer on it, but it was strapped down.  Tommy stared at the straps.  Did this place get earthquakes?  That would be an adventure but not really the kind of adventure that Tommy liked.  Everything in this room was white.  Tommy imagined laying on that tiny bed and staring at the white ceiling.

“You’d better put your things in the closet,” said his mom from the doorway.  “There isn’t much time.  Then come down the hall to the last door.  Your father and I will be waiting for you.”

Not much time?  Tommy stared at the empty doorway after she left.  What was the hurry?  What were they possibly going to do here?  He supposed at some point they had to turn on the light, but it was still hours until nightfall.  Maybe his mom had made a cake or something to celebrate the move.  Well, okay.  Tommy liked cake.  He unzipped his suitcase and began unloaded all of his favorite things.  When he opened the closet, he saw that it was already half full.  Strange clothes, all one piece, shirt and pants, in solid colors.  Big clunky boots.  A pair of gloves.  Tommy wondered if his new school required a uniform.  He shuddered to think of what kind of school it must be if it wanted kids dressed like that.  Quickly, Tommy buried the weird new things under his own clothes.  He stuck a few books in the bottom, along with his baseball and glove.  His collection of baseball cards went lovingly on the top shelf.  They just barely fit.  It was a good thing he hadn’t brought any more stuff.  No wonder his mom only let him pack one suitcase.

Shoving the suitcase under the bed, Tommy went back out into the short hall.  He could see three doors just like his on the opposite wall and one down at the very end.  That door had a button beside it, too.  The elevator doors didn’t seem too strange when Tommy realized there would be no room to open a normal door, but the tight space made him think of long winters and being stuck in one little place with nothing to do.  He jabbed the door button a little harder than was necessary.

When the door opened, Tommy froze.  The room in front of him looked like something out of a movie.  A whole panel of buttons and computer screens took up the wall in front of him, with a window above it looking out at the view.  Three built-in seats were in front of this panel.  His mother and father were in two of them, busily working on something on the screens in front of them.  They looked up when Tommy stepped in.

“Well, son,” said Tommy’s father.  “What do you think?”

“I…what is this?” Tommy asked.

“The control room,” said his father.  “Have a seat son, and we’ll tell you all about it.”

Tommy sat down in the empty chair.  His mother reached over and buckled some straps around him just like she used to do when he was little.

His father explained.  They had been chosen to explore a possible location for a colony on a new planet.  This “lighthouse” was their ship.  It was all top secret, so they had not been allowed to tell him before in case he accidentally let something slip.  No one was anywhere near here, so they should be able to get away unseen.  With any luck, they would be gone for a year, but when they came back it would be to put together a team of colonists and lead them back.  In five years, they could be living on a new planet.

By this time Tommy was grinning.

His mother grinned back.  “See, I told you it would be an adventure,” she said.  “You love adventures.”

“Hold on tight, everyone,” said his father.  “Here we go.”