84 pages • 2 hours read
N. D. WilsonA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more. For select classroom titles, we also provide Teaching Guides with discussion and quiz questions to prompt student engagement.
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A bus arrives in the dry, silent town of Henry, Kansas, and deposits there a 12-year-old boy, also named Henry. Henry has come from Boston to live with his aunt and uncle, vivacious Dotty Willis and her thin, oddball husband Frank. They greet Henry at the station, where Dotty hugs him and expresses sorrow about his missing parents. Frank points to a truck, and they walk to it. Frank puts Henry’s duffel bag in the rear and helps Henry climb in with it. It’s the first time he’s ever ridden in the back of a pickup.
The truck drives through town and down a gravel road while Henry bounces around in the back. They arrive at a large, pale-blue house with a barn behind. The house is two stories with an attic above. Waiting on the front porch are three girls, Henry’s cousins.
The girls take Henry on a quick tour of the house, including various artworks made by Frank and the girls, a junk drawer, and the toilet plunger. On the second floor, a room, “Grandfather’s room,” remains locked.
They show Henry the attic, his new quarters. At one end is a large, round window; at the other is a converted closet containing his bed. The youngest cousin, Anastasia, is small and wiry with reddish-brown hair. She tells him her name, and he says, “I know.” He names the other two—the oldest, black-haired Penny, and the middle girl, green-eyed Henrietta, who has thick, brown, curly hair.
They discuss their names: Penny is short for Penelope, and everyone calls Henrietta “Henry,” which she hates. She asks if Henry will call her Beatrice, and he says ok, but Anastasia jokes that they’ll call her Beat. Penny offers a compromise: “Now that he’s here, we can’t call you Henry” (9).
Anastasia asks Henry if he thinks his parents will die. Penny objects, but Henry says it’s ok to ask. His folks, Phil and Ursula, are travel writers on a bicycle tour across South America, where they were kidnapped for ransom in Colombia.
Lying in bed and unable to sleep, Henry thinks about baseball and watches moonlight creep through the big window. A sharp thump against the wall startles him. It happens again. Nervous, Henry gets out of bed and goes down the squeaky stairs to use the bathroom, but it’s occupied. He sits on the stairs to wait, and out of the bathroom comes a short, elderly, bald man in rolled-up tweed pants, a dirty t-shirt, and a long bathrobe. He walks to Grandfather’s room, turns, and stares at Henry.
Henry yawns and stretches, then notices that he’s sitting on the stairs for some reason and needs to use the bathroom. He hurries back upstairs and climbs into bed, where he has the odd feeling that he’s forgotten something. Though puzzled, he quickly falls asleep.
Henry sleeps late, then comes downstairs. He greets Dotty—who’s busy pulping apples—and has a cereal breakfast. Dotty tells him Frank expects him at the barn. Still groggy from sleep, Henry goes to the barn, where Frank calls down to him from a high loft. Henry climbs up a wall ladder two floors to Frank’s office. Frank sits at a desk covered with knickknacks and a computer. Lately, he sells things online and just unloaded two tumbleweeds to a foreign collector who, in a bidding war, bought the weeds for $1,500.
Frank invites Henry to join him on a trip into town. They drive the long way on bouncy dirt roads, explore the downtown for hours, eat cheeseburgers, fries, and ice cream, and finally attend a rummage sale, where Frank buys Henry a baseball glove and a pocketknife. On the way home, they collect more tumbleweeds.
After dinner, Henry visits with the girls. They argue about what game to play and chat briefly about Grandfather’s room, which has been locked since he died two years ago. Henry can’t help thinking he knows something about that room, but he can’t put his finger on it. They go to the barn to play, but their games feel too young for Henry. He returns to the house, borrows a novel to read, goes to his bedroom, and quickly falls asleep.
He’s awakened by bits of plaster falling on him. He looks up: Sticking out of the curving wall above, two knobs turn slowly, accompanied by the thumping sound. He clears away more plaster and finds that the knobs protrude from an old metal door less than a foot wide. Around the left knob are 19 strange letters; around the right knob are Roman numerals, I through XXII. Henry spins the knobs easily, but the door won’t budge.
Henry sneaks downstairs to the kitchen junk drawer, retrieves a pencil and scrap of paper, and returns to the attic, where he multiplies 19 letters times 22 numerals and gets 418, the total number of possible combinations between the two knobs.
Behind him, Henrietta asks what he’s doing. She heard him go downstairs and became curious. He explains the knobs and says he’ll try every combination until one of them opens the door. She asks what he thinks might be behind the door, and he guesses old shoes or fountain pens, while she hopes for a map to a “secret city,” or keys, or diamonds.
Henry gets to work, trying one combination of letter and numeral at a time while Henrietta sits on his bed and watches. After 110 tries, she gets up and rubs the knobs clean, which reveals three more arrows. Henry lies back, discouraged: With four arrows, the number of possible combinations could climb into the thousands.
They decide to leave it for tomorrow, and Henrietta goes back to her room. Henry takes his plaster-strewn blanket out near the barn, where he shakes it clean. Then he sits and looks at the grass, the blades glinting with moisture in the starlight, and then up at the stars themselves, which seem to gaze back at him, as if commenting to each other about how little Henry really knows of the wonders of life.
Sensing that something important has been revealed to him, Henry returns to the house. He fetches his knife, goes to the attic, and begins carving the plaster from around the knob door.
Early the next morning, Henry wakes and looks up at his handiwork from the previous night. He’s cleared plaster from a large area around the two knobs, revealing dozens of cupboard doors. He showers and returns to his bedroom, which is covered in plaster and dust. He stares at the wall. Each cupboard door is unique, some with carved shapes, others with strange knobs and handles.
He goes downstairs, finds a broom and dustpan, and carefully cleans his bedroom. The plaster loads up his blanket, which he drags downstairs, out the back door, and past the barn to a culvert, where he dumps the heavy load. Exhausted and sweating, Henry lies back in the tall grass and promptly falls asleep.
Frank finds him snoozing alongside remnants of plaster. He uses a bat to hit plaster bits into the distance like baseballs. He wakes Henry and tells him the tumbleweed sale fell through when a Texas competitor offered tumbleweeds with photos and certificates of authenticity. He says he’s decided to set his tumbleweeds free, and the wind will do the rest. He doesn’t mention the plaster.
Frank says they should play some baseball, but first he wants to finish sharpening Henry’s knife. Henry runs ahead, finds it in his bedroom, and brings it down. Frank looks at it—it’s been worn down by all the plaster removal—and comments that it’s in worse shape than he remembered, and he really should get Henry a new one. He gets to work on sharpening the knife, and Henry goes back upstairs.
In his bedroom, Henrietta sits on his bed, staring up at the wall. Again, she wonders what’s in the cupboards. Henry supposes cupboards cover the entire wall, but he’s already damaged his knife and fears that doing so again will make Frank suspicious. Henrietta says there are more tools in the basement and the barn.
Dotty calls them down to lunch. Anastasia asks what they were doing, and Henrietta says they were just talking. Henry adds that it was about secret cities and lost doors. Penelope says she once found a secret door in the bathroom, but it only contained an old shower mat and some mouse droppings.
Dotty and Frank discuss the door to Grandfather’s room, and Frank decides he’ll open it today. He stands and declaims in a loud voice, quoting from Shakespeare and Homer’s Iliad, like a hero going into battle. The girls applaud. He gathers tools, and he and Henry go upstairs to Grandfather’s door.
Frank removes from Grandfather’s door the knobs, back plate, and the rest of the locking assembly, but the door doesn’t budge. Frank tries kicking the door and lunging against it; the door is solid and heavy and won’t open. Frank strikes it with a sharpened axe, over and over, but all he produces are small nicks. He chases Henry away so he can think.
Henry uses his pocketknife to scrape paint off a narrow window in one of the cupboard doors in his bedroom wall. The paint comes away, and Henry peers through the glass but can see only darkness. Henrietta brings him a box of old posters that he can hang on the wall to hide the cupboards from nosy people.
Henrietta looks through the glass and decides it’s a mailbox, like at a post office. They can barely see something inside that resembles a post card. Hanging onto the cupboard door above the mailbox, Henry leans in for a closer look, but the door he’s holding suddenly slides open and releases a cool breeze. Henry reaches into the cupboard, grabs a string, and pulls out a key. Just then, the breeze turns into a gale with the sound of trees whipping around in the wind, and they sense a rainstorm. Henrietta tells Henry to close the cupboard door quickly before her parents hear the noise and feel the damp breeze. Henry forces it closed and slides a metal latch home.
Henrietta says these cupboards must be magical, but Henry believes they’re “quantum,” as “when things can sometimes be where they aren’t, or two places at once” (76). Then he realizes that quantum effects are microscopic, which doesn’t apply to the cupboards, so he simply has no idea how they work. Henrietta is anxious to explore further, but Henry fears what they might find. She wonders what door goes with the key Henry retrieved.
They’re interrupted by the sound of an engine revving downstairs. Frank, wearing goggles and holding a chainsaw, stands at Grandfather’s door. He puts the spinning chain blades against the door, and wood chips fly. The saw bounces, and it and Frank fly backward. The saw barely misses Frank’s legs and instead hits the floor, grinding a hole in the carpet.
Dotty appears from downstairs. She asks if he’s ok, and Frank says he’s merely embarrassed. Dotty says it’s time to leave for the barbecue.
The first five chapters introduce Henry, his new family in Kansas, and the mysterious cupboards that line his bedroom wall. They also detail the tense friendship between Henry and his namesake cousin, Henrietta. The reader begins to develop a sense of the things that trouble Henry, including his feeling of not belonging and his yearning to be more adventurous.
Part of the book’s charm is its sense of whimsy. Dotty, for example, “was of medium build in every direction” (3); Henry “woke because he couldn’t sleep any longer. His body was full” (18); Frank tells his children to brush their teeth by ordering, “Scrub the bones!” (12). Wilson’s creative diction brings a sense of magic even to everyday circumstances, establishing a mood of eccentric playfulness that allows true magic to take place. It’s also a tactic designed to intrigue and engage readers, propelling them forward in the narrative.
The author consistently infuses the story with casual references to famous tales of magic and heroism. Penny is endlessly patient with her younger sisters; her formal name, Penelope, is the same as the patient wife of Odysseus, whose 20-year adventure took him literally to hell and back in The Iliad and The Odyssey. Anastasia is a name worn by many famous women throughout history, including a Roman empress and the mysterious Anastasia Romanovna, the daughter of the Russian Czar; many believe she miraculously escaped execution and vanished after the Bolsheviks killed her royal family during the Russian revolution. Henry’s name comes from the German for “ruler,” and Henrietta’s name echoes that of many of history’s royal princesses. Even Kansas shimmers with memories of magical adventure: Kansas is the place from which Dorothy travels to the Land of Oz. The cupboards, then, are Henry and Henrietta’s doorways from Kansas to their own Oz.
That Henry and Henrietta possess the same root name suggests they’re fated to share the cupboard adventure. The gender difference in their names symbolizes their contrasting personalities. Oddly, the town itself is named Henry; though this isn’t explained in the story, it’s possible that Henry, who first lived at the Willis house when he was four years old, was named for the town.
Like Henry, Frank is a bit of an oddball. The story later reveals that both are outsiders with the same background. Frank seems to intentionally cultivate his connection to Henry, taking him into town and buying him gifts. But their connection extends far beyond Frank’s efforts. Like Henry, Frank appears to be hypnotized by Grandfather’s room, in Frank’s case that it’s locked by chance and not by magic. The old bald man who lives in Grandfather’s room clearly hexed Henry into forgetting they’d met; something similar seems to have a grip on Frank’s consciousness. Frank sees the plaster that Henry has removed from his room, and while he must know what Henry is doing, he doesn’t protest. Frank also must know about the cupboards, and his avoidance of reprimanding Henry or even asking him about the topic implies that he wants Henry to uncover them.
Henry’s parents have gone missing, but he feels little sadness. The reader might immediately recognize this disparity between their expectations and his experience—after all, as young children themselves, they have some appreciation for the loss they might feel over the absence of their parents. In Henry’s feelings, the author plants an early understanding in readers that something with his relationship with his parents must be amiss. His experiences in Kansas give him a sense of freedom and possibility, and he begins to put some distance between his new life and the old one with Phil and Ursula. His instincts prove correct: In Chapter 7, he learns they aren’t really his parents at all, and in Chapter 11 he discovers he’s not even from this world.