The Back Wall

Dear Erin Wei Woolf,

This is your future self. Heed my words carefully, for they concern the Back Wall.

A day will come when you won’t need the Back Wall of P. Hill Elementary. It’ll be okay. I know it has always been your personal fortress – your sheltered Shangri-La, your secret Garden of Eden – but you’ll outgrow it someday and simply will get weary of it. Look on the bright side: you won’t have to despair about losing it through some tragic means. You’ll look back and feel only the tiniest bit of nostalgia tinged with occasional pangs of sadness. And whenever you do feel that strange whimsical feeling and you have nothing better to do, just lean back and remember.

Remember the rough, almost primitive atmosphere of the Back Wall. The strangely uneven ledges surrounding the wall gave off a sense of wildness and adventure, and the first time you saw it, you knew that you had found someplace special. The wall didn’t belong to this century, and every time you scrambled over the ledges like a monkey scampering up a tree, you knew you didn’t either.

Remember the feeling of breathing in fresh air as a breeze sashays by. It was truly fresh air, as pure and real as it could be. You’d watch the branches of the tree in the center of the square garden sway to the rhythm of the wind, and you’d breathe in and out, trying to get the timing right. Sometimes, on particularly nice days, you’d toss a tennis ball at the main wall and leap around, dancing freely, the way a butterfly dances around bright flowers.

Remember all the memories you spent there at the Back Wall: the good and the bad. During the entire duration of elementary school, you’d spend a full hour or so after school, playing wall-ball. But when you began attending middle school, you only lingered around once a week. By the time you reached high school, you began to neglect it entirely, only coming back once a year or so. But it’s fine, really, because you always knew that the Back Wall would be there for you.

Do you remember how you met Marc? You were playing wall-ball by yourself, and this strange boy came up to you and asked if he could join in. Soon, you were having a lot more fun with him than you had been having when you were alone, and at one point, he accidentally threw the ball out of bounds (you both will always argue over exactly who knocked the ball into the bushes, but neither of you will ever win the argument; it doesn’t matter, as long as you remember that it was actually him). When you went to go fetch it, you found a baby bird behind the bushes. Both of you decided to take care of it secretly, and ever since this incident, you and Marc have been really good friends. Do you remember?

And what about the time when you were trying to draw the Back Wall’s scenery, trying to get every line right, trying to somehow capture the image’s beauty? You were so happy at first because you thought you had done a pretty good job, but when you brought the drawing to your first grade class the next day, everybody laughed because the human (supposedly you) resembled a monkey-horse hybrid. After school, you began to vent out your frustrations on the Back Wall, throwing the tennis ball as hard as you could against the wall. After you were done, you sat still on the edge of the steps and observed nature, finally realizing that you didn’t need to capture the image physically when you could capture it in your heart. That was exactly what you did. Do you remember?

How about the time a group of older girls scared you when you were only in second grade? You were reading a book, swinging your legs over the ledge at the Back Wall, and as they passed by, talking loudly, they greeted you. One of them noticed the book you were reading (a horror about Bloody Mary), and she began to explain in elaborate detail how Bloody Mary appears whenever you call her out in the darkness of a bathroom. You were getting more and more frightened as she explained, but you refused to show any signs of fear. Instead, you quickly changed the subject and offered to teach her wall ball. She and her friends had so much fun that afterwards, on some days when they were walking back home, they would join you for a round or two. Of course, they soon graduated, and you never saw them again or even got to learn their names, but you definitely never forgot the things they told you about Bloody Mary. That would certainly explain why you never go to the bathroom in the dark, but still, you had a lot of fun with them. Do you remember?

And that one time when you were innocently playing wall ball by yourself and a dark, heavy shadow loomed over you. When you looked up, you were confronted by the sight of a blinking UFO, and aliens popped out and abducted you. Do you remember?

Haha; I was just kidding about the last one. That was a good one though, don’t you think?

I’m not kidding about the Back Wall though. Such a safe haven really does exist, and fortunately, it is still there. If you just head straight over to the area between P. Hill Elementary and Bronco Recreation Center, climb up the crooked steps, and jump over the unsteady ledge, the Back Wall will be waiting for you. There is really no need to despair over it or even remember it at all: it is there, in solid form, ready to be of service for you.

Through heavy pouring rain or blindingly bright sun, through trembling cold winter or feisty hot summer, it is always there, remaining as steady and strong as only a favorite place can be. Just take a deep breath, close your eyes, and swing your legs over the ledge, and you would have done just exactly what a little girl did so many times so many years ago.

Yours Truly,

Erin Wei Woolf

Author's Note: This was done for an essay at school. I did get a little off-topic, but I tried my best to break the emotional tension without straying too far away. Help me improve by giving me feedback!