Glass Slides Numbered Out of Order
Marcus was helping his aunt clear the attic of the old Bellweather Inn when he found a flat wooden box under a pile of curtains. Inside, packed in straw, lay a stack of thin glass squares. He held one up to the window. It showed a faded picture of a lighthouse.
"Magic lantern slides," said Aunt Dee. "Long ago, people shone a bright lamp through glass pictures to show them on a wall. There should be a projector somewhere, but I have never seen one." They searched until dinner and found nothing.
Marcus kept thinking about the slides. Each one had a small number scratched into a corner, but the numbers were all mixed up. The lighthouse was number nine. A rowboat was number two. A red door was number thirty.
Maybe the numbers were not a count. Maybe they were directions. That night he lined the slides up along the windowsill in number order and let the moonlight shine through them. The first showed the harbor. The next showed a boat, then a stone path, then a staircase, and the last showed a closet door with a brass handle.
"I know that door," Aunt Dee said in the morning. "It is in the old ballroom."
Behind it, under a dusty sheet, stood the lantern projector. That evening, the lighthouse glowed on the wall.