Opening Doors
Because there are so many different paths to happiness.
1940, September
"For every door that closes, another opens," Mrs. Pevensie says, as Susan stands stonily at the door of the train. "But the war," Susan hisses, "What if?" Susan stops there and only stares at her mother, eyes pleading.
"Then another door opens," Mrs. Pevensie repeats, gently but firmly.
1940, October
"..another door.." Susan mutters, as the children trail through the cupboard, and wonders which door has been closed.
1940, December
They are back now and the rooms and spaces are too small to fill what they have become. Still though, Susan closes all the doors she can find.
1941, September
And it works! It works! Doors can be reopened after all!
1942, November
While glancing into shop windows, she sees a burst of Aslan gold. She rushes in, huffing, her hat lost somewhere outside, but there is no Aslan, just a lone canary in a cage. She insists on buying it, though the shopkeeper is hesitant. She names it Anne.
1944, April
Peter is patting her on the back awkwardly, while Lucy is huddled with her, crying along with her, when Edmund comes in looking sheepish but stubborn. "I know it's not Anne," he mutters, "but it needs you too. Maybe more even," handing her a bedraggled lump of fur.
1946, August
She comes back from America to find Lucy and Edmund bursting with stories to tell. "Oh," she says wounded to the heart, "oh." She sees Peter, pale and drawn, and knows she looks the same.
1946, December
That year, no door opens no matter how many she closes.
1950, August
She stops outside a hunting store, a little off high road during the dinner rush, but the crowd drifts around her, respectful of her mourning blacks. Inside the shop, there is a trim little lady's bow, looking made for her hands. Although the sight makes her a little sad, inexplicably, she knows now how to look past sadness to find joy. And past the dull sadness, there is excitement at the sight of the bow.
1950, September
She is not surprised to find the arrow in the center of the target, though the rest of the archery club is.
1960
She hugs her children tightly to her wondering if she'll ever hear the name "Aslan" on their lips.
1949, October
For every door that opens, another closes. She shakes her head to the question she sees in Aslan's eyes, not questioning how she sees him in the back of a train seat. One lifetime of Queen Susan is enough. It's time to try something new.