Off The Wall

“If walls could talk,” is a phrase that I thought was said either trying to resurrect and reconcile the secrets of the past, or wanting to be intrusive about situations and places where an invitation wasn’t extended. I mean, nobody really expects to hear a dead structure voicing random sentiments. Think about it. To say something talks, means it would have to have heard, seen or felt something, right? Any experience apart from any or all of the other senses makes talking seem quite impossible – at the very least highly improbable. After all, what would they say? And why? On the other hand, if any or all of these perceptions were functioning in a wall, then I would have to rethink the world as I knew it – or believed I knew it.

Oh, I’m okay with thinking outside of the box, seeing things in a different light or considering different viewpoints. That’s kind of what got me in the situation I am in now. Grandma Estelle and Momma were the only ones who really understood me. I was the different one. That got me a lot of attention; made my cousins jealous. They seem to forget that I was the one who stayed and cared for them when they fell ill. With both gone, sure I was by myself; but, I learned a lot from those women, like how to observe people and things, work hard, be kind, but be wise. They left me with a gift, too. Then, Grandma watched as Momma reached in a jar of salve and touched my ears. She said I would know it when the time came.

My cousins really didn’t want me around them, but Grandma Estelle said that as long as her money lasted I was always to have a place and provisions. And believe me, that money was going to last awhile. Things were left in my name. I valued that and lived a simple life because I knew how hard they worked to get it. I even made the money grow selling my paintings.

I became used to my own space, living my life with my plants, volunteering at the shelter and helping to cultivate the community garden. Who cares if they didn’t want me living alone anymore? It was my choice. Besides living alone was better than a forced existence in a place full of strangers pretending to be family. As a matter of fact, I have felt just more alone among them than being by myself.

I heard whisperings of spending and wild partying – trying to keep up appearances; just wastefulness. Too much money for Crazy Clara.

Cousin Thelma or Cousin Gertie had to put something in my water when I wasn’t looking. By the time I got out of the car, I was so woozy I could hardly stand up.

Which is why, when I first walked through the door, it looked strange. I had not been in Grandma’s place in many years. It looked so different.

I was led up the steps and almost thought that I was losing my mind!” (Though this crew told people I lost it long time ago.)

Immediately, I started feeling something “different”; vibrations on my ears are the closest thing I can describe. As I crossed the threshold from the hallway, something awakened in the room and something awakened in me. I felt recognized, welcomed, warm and safe. A very familiar type of feeling. I immediately straightened up and looked around to see if anyone else noticed it. But those heifers were their usual stiff selves, staring at me giving orders.

“Unpack your things and make yourself comfortable. We’ll be back in a little while,” they told me.

“Yes, I’ll make myself comfortable because you won’t,” I said under my breath.

“Don’t worry, I will,” I heard, as they walked out of the door. But neither of them said it. I know that – not because they didn’t look back; but, because it wasn’t it just wasn’t in them.

Yet, it was clearly audible and purposeful.

I wasn’t going to say anything else. I wasn’t going to give them any ammunition. They were always looking at me sideways, snickering, whispering loudly enough for me to hear and not decipher.

They closed the door.

I looked around again, especially at a small plant that was against the wall. I was curious but not afraid. I walked over to it to see if there was some sort of device or microphone. I even dug my fingers in the dirt…nothing.

“Hello,” I heard loudly and clearly.

I walked to the window…no one.

“It’s me. Sit down.”

Whatever they put in my drink had worn off by then, so I really paid attention.

The talking began. It was a unique sound, a resonant whisper, coming from all around me, confirming everything I thought. In that very room, my cousins hatched a plan to have me declared in competent.

I was further told that I was not in my Grandma’s house, but in an asylum.

I remembered what Momma said to me, and I knew that the truth was being told. Just as panic was about to set in, I felt comforted.

“Who are you talking to in there?” Cousin Thelma asked outside the door.

“I wasn’t talking. There is no one here,” I replied.

They burst through the door with someone in a white coat following them.

I said, “Nobody…do you see anybody here? I wasn’t talking. Don’t be so suspicious. You must be hearing things.”

When I followed the doctor out of the room, they stayed in rummaging through my things, looking for papers and money.

You let them have it, clicking the lights on and off, saying, “I see you and I’m telling Clara everything you are doing now. I already told her about your plan to have her committed.”

“Thelma, stop playing around!” Cousin Gertie screamed.

“That’s not me, Gertie! I believe it’s the wall!”

Just as the doctor and staff swung the door open, Cousin Thelma and Cousin Gertie were screaming, “The wall! The wall! It can hear, see and talk. Ahh!! Help!!”

The doctor yelled, “Stop them! Don’t let them get away!”

He turned to Clara and said, “You are free to leave. You told me they were talking to the wall, but I didn’t believe you.”