It just appeared one day, suddenly next to Malcolm's closet door, there it was. It was just a crack, nothing too serious, he would get some plaster and cover it over tomorrow. And so Malcom went to bed that night. It started small, just a crack and then the crack traveled. Not like cracks do, this one seemed to have a direction in mind. While Malcolm slept it moved inexorably across his wall, creating curves and arches, filigree and vines. As the night time hours passed the crack continued it artistic crawl as if the hand of some invisible artist was guiding it on the canvas of Malcolm's wall.

****

Morning came with the bright sunshine peaking through the blinds. Malcolm turned over to avoid the enthusiastic shaft of light that was trying its best to travel into his eyes.

"Alright you persistently annoying bugger, I'm getting up! So can you stop being so bright and give me a break." Malcolm grumbled as he sat up in his bed and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He looked over at the wall and froze. He rubbed his eyes again, was he seeing what he thought he was seeing.

The crack was no longer simple, but instead it transformed into an elaborate design. It snaked and twisted across the wall, forming curves that seemed to defy gravity. The edges of the crack were lined with delicate filigree, like lace woven from the wall itself. And at the center of it all was a perfect archway, as if the crack had been intentionally guiding itself towards this final destination. It almost seemed as if the wall itself was alive, manipulating its own surface to create this stunning piece of artwork. Malcolm couldn't believe his eyes as he stared in awe at this bizarre and inexplicable transformation.

"Bloody hell! How am I suppose to cover that over!" Malcom exclaimed. He got off the bed and went over and touched the surface of the wall. the first thing he noticed was that the edges of the crack were smooth as if drawn on the wall but he could feel the separation in the wall so he knew that the crack was real. As he continued to examine the wall and its new addition he noticed that the wall inside the archway seemed to glow subtlely. Malcolm stepped back, his mind revolting against the reality that he was faced with.

"No, no, absolutely not. This is not real and this is not normal. You, you bloody bugger are not going to ruin my day." Malcolm slipped on his bathrobe and slippers and went out to the kitchen. Rummaging under the sink he found a small tub of instant filler and a filler knife. Returning to the room he set the filler and the fller knife down at the foot of the archway that the crack had drawn on the wall.

"You just wait till I get back from the bath, you're history my son!" Malcolm said grabbing his towel and walking out of the room.

****

"Blessed Peter on a pogo stick!" Malcolm exclaimed when he entered his room. He couldn't believe his eyes. The tub of instant plaster he had set down by the wall had moved! Not only moved but now actually only part of it was visible, because the other part was inside the wall between the archway columns the crack had formed. To add insult to injury he could see the filler knife slowly being pulled into the wall as well. Most of the blade had already disappeared. He lunged at the wall grasping the handle of the filler knife.

"Leave off, you bloody thievin asscrack! You'll not have me filler knife, if'n I can help it!" Malcolm said pulling with all his might. He felt a lessening of resistance as he spoke as if whatever was on the other side had heard him and had let go. For a moment the knife started to come back out of the wall, slowly inching its way back towards Malcolm's side. Then as suddenly as the resistance had stopped, it was back and without warning the handle of the filler knife slipped out of Malcolm's hand and disappeared into the wall with a pop.

Malcolm sat down abruptly as he lost the struggle to pull the filler knife back towards him with all his might.

"Now that's bang out of order, I tell ya!" Malcolm said before a sudden movement caught his eye. As he watched the other half of the tub of plaster disappeared into the wall as well.

Malcolm jumped up turning red and stamped his foot. "Blinking heck! you're doing my nut in about now!"

Malcolm went back over and sat on his bed. "You are not going to kill me!" Malcolm said shaking his fist at the wall.

Malcolm dressed and left his bedroom. The day passed without him returning to the room at all. He cleaned the rest of the house, made his meals and even tried to watch the telly. But the crack kept intruding on his thoughts. Had it really stolen both his filler knife and the plaster? What was next, his bed? His dresser? No, this would not do, he would put things right by blessed Peter even if it killed him.

That evening he stepped out to the pub for a few pints, still trying to forget the criminal crack that had invaded his bedroom. Of all the bedrooms, in all the towns, in all the world why did that crack have to appear in mine! He thought as he downed his fifth pint of Guinness. Well that bloody criminal ass crack wouldn't get the best of him, no sir.

Later that evening as he stumbled out of the pub on his way back home he saw that the DIY store was still open and he decided to stop in.

"How can I help you sir?" The clerk said from behind the counter.

"I need a tub of filler for a stubborn crack in my wall and a 8 inch filler knife please." Malcolm said pullling out his wallet.

"Certainly sir, would you like a fast drying filler or a regular one?" The clerk said moving to the shelf where the tubs sat.

"Fast drying please."  

Stolen Filler

Malcom returned with the new tub of filler and the filler knife. As he was about to bring it into his bedroom, he stopped and though to himself. No, I'll not take this in there, its likely to be snatched again by that thieving crack. He placed the tub of filler and the knife outside of the room by the door and peeked into his room, turning on the light carefully he looked at the wall. The crack had continued is travels and now it seemed that it had even began to branch out creating a pattern of vines and leaves that seemed to wrap around the columns of the arch the crack had formed. As he examined the wall he thought he could see just the barest hint of color seeming to emanate from the wall. The archway pattern took on a patina of weathered gray and the vines just the barest hint of woodsy brown, the leaves on the vines began as a new spring green and gradually deepened into a verdant forest green.

Malcolm was too drunk to actually care that the crack in his bedroom had taken over the wall and created a vivid piece of artwork on it. He stumbled to his bed and collapsed muttering to himself.

"I'll put you to rights tomorrow don't you worry. Yes sir, tomorrow you'll be right as rain and far less annoying with your vines and leaves and fairy arches!"

As the night passed Malcolm slept fitfully. The crack occupying his dreams. The arch seems to grow more distinct jutting out from the wall and becoming three dimensional. The wall between the columns seems to melt inward becoming a swirling mass of paint chips and plaster. In his dream Malcolm could do nothing but stare in terror as he watched reality warp and twist out of all logical sense. All he kept repeating to himself as his mind rebelled at what he was seeing was one simple thought. *I'll not go, you can't make me, I will never cross that threshhold!* The dream faded and Malcolm sank into a dreamless oblivion.

The day dawned and that pesky shaft of sunlight was back, finding its annoying way into Malcolm's eyes. Malcolm spared it no thought as he was so intent on correcting the crackon his wall. He sat up in bed and stretched, today that crack would be gone and the world would be right again. Malcom tourned towards the wall and stared in horror.

Where there had been a crack, albeit an artistic one - there was now a actual archway, smooth marble columns, wrapped with brown vines sprouting a myriad of leaves in all shades of green from the more lightest to the most verdant green, small pink and red flowers bloomed amidst the leaves. At the foot of the arch was a fresh baked apple pie, Malcolm could still smell it as if it had just come out of the oven.

Malcolm went over to the arch and touched the pie dish, it was still hot, he left the room and returned with oven mits, taking the pie, he went to the kitchen and dumped it in the garbage. Returning to his room he went over to the arch, standing well away from it because he remembered the stolen filler and knife incident. He looked at the arch and in a loud voice he said.

"I'll not eat any of your blasted fairy pies so you can just stop baking them. Take yor blasted archway and bugger off back to where you came from. You are not welcome here!"

Malcolm stormed out of the room and went to take a shower and get dressed. When he returned to the room, he found a bowl of oranges sitting at the foot of the archway. They were beautiful and fragrant as if just picked fresh from an orange grove.

"So you decided to try oranges this time! I'm not taking any of your fairy fruit, they can sit there I'll not touch them, not now not ever!" Malcolm left the room and slammed the door, for the rest of the day he didn't return to his bedroom. As he lay on the couch watching the telly, he could see tub of filler still sitting outside his bedroom door. A lot of good that will do now, he thought to himself, that damn crack has turned into a right proper fairy hole!

Enticing Odor

Evening rolled around and the sun went down, Malcolm was so stubbornly engrosseed in the show on TV that he didn't notice how dark it had gotten. As he got up to turn on a light and walk to the kitchen to make himself some dinner, he noticed an odor emanating from his bedroom.

He walked over to the closed bedroom door and took a deep breath. Roasted Chicken? Did he smell roasted chicken? He stopped for a second, arguing with himself that he could not be smelling what he was smelling and then the scent of fresh baked breath hit him like a ton of bricks. It was too much, he threw the door open and turned on the lights. There on the floor next to the bowl of fairy oranges was a silver tray. On was a beautifully cooked half roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy and mushy peas and a bread plate with fresh baked dinner rolls. Malcolm could see the butter glistening on the still steaming bread.

"Blimey O'Reilly! This is bang out of order! So the pie and the fairy oranges wasn't enough, so you tempt me with my favorite meal!" Malcolm shouted as he walked over to the tray. He bent down to pick up the tray with all intentions to toss it in the garbage where he had dumped the pie. His fingers touched the mashed potatoes and out of habit he licked them off his fingers. He stopped and savored the flavor. He felt he had tasted these potatoes before, he just couldn't remember where.

"Patrick's Paisley Panties! These bloody potatoes are delicious!" He sat down on the floor and sighed. In that moment he had made a decision, he was going to eat this meal and enjoy it and Satan be damned. He deal with the fairy consequences later!

As he ate and savored everything on the plate, the name Rose kept floating into his consciousness. It came in random flashes of memory. Rose made potatoes like this, Rose's roasted chicken was always so moist. How many times had he begged Rose to make bread for the Sunday meal. The strange thing was that he couldn't remember who this mysterious Rose was but he had the sense that she was important to him.

After finishing his dinner he washed everything and was about to set the tray back down at the foot of the arch, he reasoned that it has appeared there so whoever put it there would take it back. When he entered the room he was hit with the smell of a fresh baked apple pie and looked down and found another pie almost identical to the one he had tossed in the garbage earlier. When he examined it closely he found a small note under it.

It read:

At least taste this one before you toss it out and ruin all my hard work!

Malcolm couldn't help himself and burst out in hysterical laughter. Oh that sounded like Rose alright! He caught himself and for a moment it almost came to him but then like smoke it drifted from his thoughts.

Malcolm put down the tray by the arch and picked up the pie and took it to the kitchen. He got the vanilla ice cream out of the freezer and after dishing out a slice of the still warm pie dropped a couple of scoops right on top. Sitting down in on the couch he took a bite.

"Patrick's Paisley Pants that's good!" He said as he savored taste of the pie.

Malcom continued to eat the pie amazed at how good it was. He was puzzled at himself, two days ago he was dead set at righting the wrong of that blasted crack which now seemed to be a right proper fairy arch. And now here he was eating a blasted pie baked by whoever was on the other side of the thing.

And then there was Rose, he was sure he had forgotten something important about that mysterious person, when he thought about the name it was as if his heart hurt just a little bit. Who was Rose and why had he forgotten her?

He washed his pie plate and put the rest of the pie in the fridge and turned off the lights. He entered his bedroom and turned on the light.  He noticed something shiny glinting in the vines that wrapped around the arch.

Going Home

Malcolm walked over to the arch and carefully removed a silver locket and chain from the branches. 

Take a leap of faith

As he read it, his mind supplied the other part of the saying. "And you will always land among those you love." It was something is his mother used to tell him. He turned the locket over and opened it.

Inside there were 2 tiny pictures. On one side there was the picture of a beautiful woman with flowing red hair and sparkling blue eyes. And on the other side was the picture of a little girl with the same blue eyes and auburn hair. As he looked at the pictures, it was as if a fog lifted from his mind.

"Rose, Rose how could I have forgotten you. Oh my darling and Bridget, my sweet girl, how long have I been away, that I forgot my own wife and daughter."

The tears fell from his eyes as the ache in his heart grew, he had to go home, to find them but he didn't know where to begin, how to start. As his tears fell suddenly the flowers on the vines around the arch burst into full bloom and the space between the columns began to glow with light. It was as if the wall had disappeared and where it had stood was only a warm golden light. Malcolm looked down at the picture of his wife and daughter and remembering the words, he took a leap of faith and stepped into the light.

*******

Malcolm opened his eyes to the sound of beeping and realized he was laying down. His throat was parched, he looked around and saw Rose. His eyes filled with tears as he beheld the beautiful face of his wife. She looked tired but she smiled as she held his hand. He tried to speak but his throat was so dry.

"Now, there, there, don't try to talk just yet. Here, have a couple of ice chips to sooth your throat first." Rose said putting a few into his mouth. As Malcolm's eyes took in everything around him, he looked up at Rose. She could see the questions forming in his mind.

"You had a stroke, dear and you have been in a coma for the last three months. Bridget and I have been here every day talking to you and trying to coax you back. We promised you your favorite meal and an apple pie if you only would wake up."

Malcolm looked around. "Bridget went to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee, she should be back an minute now."

Just then the door to the room opened and in stepped his daughter. His heart swelled with love at the sight of her.

"Papa, Papa, you're awake." She said rushing over to grab his other hand.

Malcolm couldn't help it and tears began to leak from his eyes.

"Oh, don't you be doing none of that, we are here and we knew you wouldn't leave us, we just had to wait for you to take that leap of faith and come back to us."