Drystane

Waking up from another noisy night, Drystane began to open his eyes as his consciousness gather. Staring across the living room, the singing of songbirds outside told him that it was the early morning even though the sun had barely begun to rise. Letting out a yawn, he was greeted with an elderly gruff voice.

“Keep it down, will ya’, Drystane?”

“Sorry, Wallis,” he replied, “it looks like that time of year again, huh?”

“Yep, pretty soon spring will be in full swing and before you know it we’ll be hearing muscle cars and raunchy teenagers racing up and down in their parents’ jeeps.”

“That and more police cars as per usual. With spring break around the bend I suspect that Clint will get back to working out again as per usual.”

Wallis shifted his eyes over at him from where they faced perpendicularly. “You seriously think that Clint would still be playing the field at his stage of the game, Dryst?”

“Well, I mean,” Drystane responded, “remember when he brought that lady over last year. The whole house went into a frenzy. Woodra wouldn’t stop talking about it for weeks.”

“Only because her sister, Panela, is part of the master bedroom. As much as people like to leave their doors open, what happens in one room is secret to the others. Thus is the code of walls.”

“Thus is the code of walls.”

“Thus is the code of walls,” a smooth, sultry voice filled the air along with theirs.

Shocked that she was awake at this hour, Drystane looked over from right across him. “Well, well, well, I wouldn’t be expecting you to be up at this hour of the night, Brickerta.”

“Normally I like to catch my beauty sleep, but it seems that your yawning might just wake up the whole house, darling.”

“Think the owners are gonna open up your blinds again today?”

“Not if I can keep the cords in my favor today.”

“Ah, come on Brickerta. You’ve got the loveliest pair of windowpanes that I’ve ever seen. I remember the day Cecilia pulled your shutters aside to wipe you down with some Windex. I thought I was in heaven.”

“You may have been staring at me like a schoolboy with his mouth agape, but don’t forget about the time when little Markus knocked your painting off. I swear when I saw that your nail was exposed you went from white to a flushed pink.” She had to chuckle at that memory.

“Oh, come on, you know I wasn’t blushing. Your curtains were open, and it was sunset outside when that first happened. The pinkness of the sky flooded the room.”

“Still,” she chuckled, “you were so embarrassed that you kept your mouth shut for the entire week until Cecilia covered you up with a calendar. Besides, tick-tock, last year ended more than a month ago. Won’t be too long before that calendar of yours goes bye-bye.”

“I betchu’ that won’t happen before your outlet cover gets pulled off again. I remember that little Macey yanked it off’a ya’ just last week.”

Brickerta gasped, “How could you have possibly seen that? There’s a coffee table right in front of me.”

“Yeah, and it’s a tall one too,” Drystane laughed while Brickerta steamed, thinking of a witty comeback.

Wallis smiled but calmed the room down with his elderly man voice, “Now, now. We’ve all had our shame exposed before, but what happens to walls stays between walls. Builder knows that I’ve had several coats of paint peeled off of me over the past several years only to be recoated again.”

Sighing, Brickerta said, “When you’re right Wallis, you’re right. Still, I’m sorry about what happened to Whertha.”

“I miss her every single day,” he smacked his lips, grumbling, “still, her death gave me three new beautiful children to see. They may not talk much, but just seeing them there makes me glad.”

“Wait, really? So, when the hallway was made, is that them, Wallis,” Drystane asked.

“Huh? No, no.” Wallis began to explain, “The entrance way that’s behind you constructed the three children that I have today. The east, west, and top panels are all my children.”

“Even though they’re so small?”

“One must not be wide or tall to be a wall. One must be a plane, whether flat and smooth, or even one with curves extruding in the many directions, a wall is a wall, and will always stand brave even if they’re not tall.”

“Wow,” Drystane was shocked at the beauty and elegance of the phrase, but more so with Wallis’ wisdom. “Where’d you learn that, Wallis?”

“Over the years you come to learn many a great thing. I remember when you and Brickerta was newly installed. It was well before the people that ever lived in here had a house. I had grubby little hands drawing and up and down me all the time. I helped to bring life to the living room.”

“Wait, so before I even gained consciousness, you were here?”

“Yep, Whertha and I both. It was sad to see our old friends go. The one where Brickerta stands today used to be named Travis. He was built in the old traditional way of wood paneling, and where you stand today, Dryst, was a gorgeous wall named Tileas. Her tiles were like no other.”

“What happened to them?” Drystane’s curiosity grew along with the sun’s rising.

“Simple, reconstruction. Fear not, however. Whenever a wall is demolished, their life does not end, but gets carried on. For our materials get recycled and then into the consciousness of another wall. There might be some Travis in you Brickerta,” Wallis stated with a shift of his eyes, “and some Tileas in you, Dryst. For we are all an amalgamation. Of many before us we are made, and many after us will be made of many parts from us.”

Feeling a calm feeling had washed over Drystane. Some walls had stood the test of time from ancient castles is what he was told, while others rose and fell within the blink of an eye. However, his fear of future demolition was eased and seemingly put to rest. It was calming to know that there was a before and an after. Being placed somewhere in the middle was alright with him.

Tired from the wisdom that was just bestowed unto him, along with the emotional charged conversation with Brickerta, Drystane yawned a bit. “Well, I think that I’ll catch up on some beauty sleep. Hope you guys don’t mind if I get some shut eye.”

“You go ahead youngin’,” Wallis said. “When you get to my age you don’t need to rest very much.”

“Well, looks like you won’t be able to keep them peeled if Cecilia comes back to peel my blinds open,” Brickerta teased.

“I won’t have to worry if they stay open,” Drystane replied. “Besides, I like sunlight along with the sight of the rose bushes outside. Ain’t nothing more beautiful.”

Closing his eyes, he started drifting off to sleep. As he thought about his own consciousness and that which made him conscious in it of itself, dreams about when he was first installed flooded his mind. The wooden beams behind him, the electrical wires, insulation, and even the occasional exterminator visit. Were these his dreams, or that of another wall. Then, as he was staring at himself in the dream, the colors blue and red flashed at him. The sounds of the outside world creeped in. Footsteps were heard as well, and he awoke with a groaning jolt as the human male, known as Clint, yelled at the top of his lungs.

“Cecilia! Grab the kids and get in the car!”

“What’s happening?! What’s going on?!” She yelled back at him.

“Just do what I say!” Running into the living room, Clint knocked the coffee table down, using it as a shield behind Brickerta. Looking up at the windows behind the curtain, Clint was estimating where to fire at based upon the lights shining through the curtains.

Hearing that Cecilia had left out the backdoor with their kids, Clint heard the police siren say, “Come out with your hands up! This doesn’t have to end violently!”

Locking a bullet into his chamber, Clint whispered a small prayer over his gun. Raising his arm, he fired three bullets through Brickerta’s windows.

“BRICKERTA!” Wallis yelled out.

Coughing up bits of glass, Brickerta was shocked. Looking down at herself, she was so traumatized that she couldn’t speak, only gasp as air from the outside world pouring in from her broken windows.

“RETURN FIRE!” A deep voice boomed from outside.

Several bullets lodged themselves in her bricks, some broke through only to stop at the wooden coffee table, meanwhile the few that broke through the windows lodged themselves in Drystane.

“DRYSTANE!” Brickerta let out. “Drystane! Are you okay?!”

Leaking dust from his newfound pores, Drystane spit out pieces of drywall along with a few wood chips from the beams that he was nailed to.

Seeing all of the bullet holes put into the wall across from him, Clint realized that this wasn’t a battle worth winning, but just one that he needed to prolong. Crawling across the floor, he fled into the kitchen from the hallway to escape to the garage. Knowing his dirt bike was there, he figured he’d be able to make a quick escape through the alleys.

Hearing that a motorcycle had left from the other side of the house, the door was rammed down. Several S.W.A.T. officers poured in. One had a German shepherd on a leash that was barking up a storm. Moving over towards Drystane, the dog smelt something that was hidden behind him. The man standing behind the K-9 unit brought out a saw blade and proceeded to gut Drystane open.

“AHHHH!!!” His screams sounded like bloody murder and sent the whole house into a panic of creaking, groaning, and little shifts of dust happening in all corners. “WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME!”

“DRYSTANE!” Wallis yelled, “HOLD ON! YOU’RE GOING TO BE ALRIGHT! LOOK AT ME! TRUST ME! YOU’LL SURVIVE!”

“WHAT ARE THEY DOING?! WHAT ARE THEY LOOKING FOR?!”

Feeling his insides pouring out, the agents were pleased with what they found. Covered in dust and drywall, they looked at the plastic bags that laid within Drystan’s abdomen. “Found it sir. Fifty pounds of crack, cocaine, along with laundered money.”

“What happened to Clint,” one officer asked the other.

“He’s on the run, but don’t worry. We got a helicopter on him, plus his wife’s car’s been bugged. We’ve got them tracked ever since they went to their last car maintenance well over a year ago.”

“That’s good. Alright men! Gather the evidence! Let’s move out!”

“YES SIR!” The rest of the team responded.

As the men left, Drystane’s eyes grew heavy. Was this what it was like to be demolished? Was he going to be reconstructed into a new wall? Who was going to live in the house now? Certainly not little Macey nor Markus. Who would flip the pages of his calendar year now? Who was going to paint and prime Wallis? Were Brickerta’s windows going to be prepared?

So many questions flooded his mind. Yet, as fast as they came, they left, and his eyelids grew heavy. The pain started to leave his body as darkness grew in around him.

“Hey Brickerta,” he said with dust leaking out of his mouth, “I’m glad that you allowed me to see the outside. Thanks for not just letting me be an inside wall.” Looking over, he said to his old friend, “Thanks for the talk today, Wallis. I wish I could be calmer about this. I- I think it’s time. Maybe next time I’ll be a wall with a window or a doorway in it. Yeah, that’ll be nice.”

“Drystane? Drystane? Do you hear me?” Wallis asked him.

“Drystane! Drystane, please, don’t close your eyes!” Brickerta begged.

“I’m just feeling really sleepy is all,” Drystane said. “I’ll see you guys soon. Don’t worry. Just a little nap.”

Just like that, it all went black.