The Doorman

In a time much different than ours, in a world unlike our own there was a very small village. In this very small village there was a very small road that ran down the center of town, called Barnabey St. And down the alleyway on Barnabey, between the Hopflop shop and the Jig vendors, there was a door. A single bright yellow door with a brass ring for a handle. This door in this alley was of little interest to anyone in the town, that is until Merryweight Grizlebaum, the town's local fool, sat himself down on a stool directly in front of the door.
At first no one in the town minded, figuring it better to let a fool keep to himself and his foolish ways. But soon days had past, then weeks, and months, and Merryweight never moved from in front of that yellow door. Finally concerned but to scared to venture down the alley, the townspeople yelled "Mr. Grizlebaum have you died?" "No, I haven't." Yelled back the fool. Then fearing the worst of the fool the townspeople yelled, "You have been outside that door for months now Mr. Grizlebaum, Are you perhaps holding someone for ransom?"
Grizlebaum laughed, " I know I am foolish. But not foolish enough to hold someone for ransom in a village this small." "Well then what are you doing!?" the townspeople shouted and before they were finished Merryweight replied with "I'm watching the door."
"He thinks he's a doorman now?" the townspeople shouted, "Well doorman, what is behind your door that's so special that you must watch after it?" "That.." said the doorman now sitting straight up on his stool, eyes alert. "is none of your concern." The townspeople laughed in unison. "Silly doorman" they spat as they returned to their homes. But years passed and curiosity grew as the doorman never left his post at the yellow door. People came from all around the strange world to view from the safety of Barnabey street, the mysterious doorman. Over time the tiny village grew and grew until it was a large city with many buildings and people. And Barnabey street stretched for miles now. But there was still that alley between the Hopflop MegaShop and the Jenco JigVendor Inc. And there was still that door. And the doorman rarely moved in those years. Though sometimes, tourists would spot him away from his stool, curled up at the base of the door his ear cupped to the peeling wood. Or sometimes standing flat with his back against the door. And he aged and his hair got white and skin became loose and hung on his bones like hand me down clothes. It was clear to everyone that the doorman could die any day. And some even tried to use his weakness to try and storm the door, he'd strike them, they'd fall. Soon they just watched and waited. They waited for sixty years, and though he spent most of those days silent, two hours before his last breath a child ran past the guard lines and made it down the alley to the man on the stool. "Why did you sit here doorman?" whispered the child. "Why did you sit here and stay here forever? Why didn't you go to the everyplace and venture to the anywhere that I hear the travelers talk about? The doorman shifted on his stool, his left hand on the yellow door for support. "You don't know this little one, but I've been everyplace and anywhere. In fact, it was through those adventures through everywhere that lead me to here. I'm here because, behind this door is the only thing I've ever known that's meant anything to me, and it took me a long time to find it so I don't mind looking over it for awhile." And with that the child's mother called him back. And she was so overcome with conflicting emotions that she beat and berated the child in front of the crowd, embittering him so that he would never tell a soul what the doorman had shared with him. At his last moments the doorman stood and pressed his face against the warped wooden door, straining to press his face through the wood, in one last effort to merge with it, and for the first time even dared a knock. And then he sat back in his stool and stared at the door with the biggest smile and the widest eyes. As if death had granted him the ability to see through the door and witness his treasure one last time. There was a moment of silence as the people registered the doorman's stillness. But it wasn't long before they were linking arms and throwing their shoulders into the yellow door, forcing it open. When the door fell and shattered into splinters, the peoples head's craned to get the best view. A tiny bathroom, with black and white tiles, a ventilation fan and a single light hung innocently from the ceiling. But the square window above the toilet, the one big enough to fit any average, dog, or cat, or person. That window was wide open and lead to an alley that went on for as many miles as Barnabey street. The people stood, ashamed and sad, their mouths hung open in disbelief. But the doorman smiled his biggest smile and his eyes were wide with joy sitting on his stool, facing the open yellow door.