How to Build a Firm Foundation

If walls could talk…we would probably all lose our minds.

No, not you. Not at all, I think. You seem to be quite sane, although I wonder why you exert yourself this way. All that walking with the others on this strip of earth that must be hundreds of meters long. It makes sense that you would need a break, and then stretch and walk over to somewhere a little more secluded. At least you did not run away because you thought you were hallucinating. You are absolutely all right. I can talk. And I have a story to tell.

Betcha didn’t know that I was a piece of history until your school talked about this trip, did you? I have…sorry, had…the distinct privilege of being one of the main borders of the city. You had no idea that this area was once the limits of this place? Well, no one really knows their history until they have to…and I have never really had the chance to share my story. That was over 200 years ago…

Back then, the town was really just a village. You would not recognize it at all from what you got today. Maybe thirty people were there, including the ones who decided that they needed to build a wall here. It seemed to be a good idea to have it near their home, and the foundations were set while the good doctor treated patients and his family…

Yes, it was a doctor’s home.

It might be strange that I can remember that he was a doctor, but I do. He was a good man who deserves to be remembered. He would keep his place safe for all of the people who needed his help. There were housewives, children, men who always lied about their reasons for seeking his help (“It’s my wife who told me to…”). All of this handled with fairness and the deepest respect for them. They were proud to have him there. And, to show their respect for what he did, they helped to make me strong…or stronger.

I never really knew what the problem was with our village. Occasionally, there would be faces and people that I did not recognize, but they never seemed to be a threat. There were too few of them and they seemed to visit for no less than the space of time needed to explore our land and then go back to wherever they came from.

That should have been a warning.

The first attacks came, and there was no way that anyone could have prevented such violence. My use as a defense became no defense at all. Holes were exposed in me. Whole families disappeared through me. And the doctor? Well, I could only imagine what I heard above the tears and wailing. The home was burned down and not a single stone was left standing on top of one other. A true shame. I always felt that I should have been kinder to it.

Now, the thing that strikes me today is…nothing else happened to me. I was allowed to just fall apart. Some of those nastier people did take pieces of me back to their homes (think they wanted souvenirs), but most of them was either intact or simple left on the ground. It is strange to see oneself in bits and pieces. Perhaps there is some term for such a condition…

Anyway, you would be surprised at how quickly time can pass in such a place. A hundred years means nothing to a wall, not even when that wall is nothing more than a foundation marking a boundary on land that no one wants to claim. I could still hear strange and silly rumours that the area was haunted by the spirits of those slain villagers. Many a night, a traveler would be with a companion and could not resist sharing the story of how the very spot they sat upon was once the site of an incredibly bloody and violent battle. They would leave the next day, but I would often be tempted to make noises in the night that would hasten their departure. I never did so. I promise. Really. But I did wonder…

And I began to wonder what was happening when more people began to appear and attempt to rebuild here. Instead of acknowledging the role I played, they simply examined me, and I heard one very excited young man declare, “This is the foundation!” I was not completely sure what he meant by that, but I soon found out with the new structure that housed me.

You humans are a very strange lot. You created buildings in order to house other buildings. You invite children to examine things that their young minds may not be able to understand. And you mark out history that may be best forgotten.

I am now part of this museum devoted to those lives and souls lost many ages ago. Visitors can travel a path that follows from one end of the building to another while learning through tour guides and several labeled stops what happened at certain points in my history (well, the village’s history; many of the people here really want to know what happened).

It is still amazing to me what I have forgotten, or simply did not observe from my point of view. At least I can talk about it with you.

Now, make sure you head back to the group and tell them what I told you... Just kidding. They'd never believe you, I think. Just remember what I said and come back to visit me again one day.

Not too weird, right?

Thank you for reading!

If you liked this, you can add your Insights, Comment, leave a Heart, Tip, Pledge, or Subscribe. I will appreciate any support you have shown for my work.

You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Kendall Defoe on my Vocal profile. I complain, argue, provoke and create...just like everybody else.

Give it a look...