The Wall…

The Wall…

The following is a short story submitted by someone very dear to me who wishes to remain anonymous. I love it.

The Wall was perfect, flawless in every way. No one could convince Joe otherwise. The Wall circled the entire town of Bree in one long embrace, guarding it from the untold dangers lurking beyond. The Wall was blessed, quite literally, for at its birth a mysterious priest appeared and gave it the approval of the heavens.

  This was why Joe had faith in it. “Thank you,” he whispered as he patted the warm stone. He was on his way home from a hard day of work, but couldn’t resist his small ritual of gratitude. “Thank you for your protection.”

  And it seemed to him that The Wall grew warmer.

Whistling softly Joe continued his journey, arriving home to an unexpected state of chaos.

  “Settle down!” He roared above the shrieking children and swooning neighbors. “Lily what’s the matter?”

  Obviously shaken, Joe’s wife sat on a poorly carved wooden chair and began to moan.

  “Oh Joe it’s terrible. Randolph  Smithson from the East side of town was found dead this mornin’! The poor Mrs Smithson… Joe, he was ate by a wolf!”

  Joe froze. Fear coursed through him in a shock. “Er, Julie, are you sure about that part?”

  “Sure as dawn,” she snorted. “Everyone’s talking of it. Mayor’s called a town meetin’.”

  Joe straightened up, a determined look on his face. “Then we’d best be on our way.”

  Most of the people at the meeting seemed confused, with only those who had heard of the death showing alarm.

  “Right!” Mayor Matthew called. “Sit down folks and let me explain. Old Smithson, who many of you knew and loved, has- er, passed away. Only, he hasn’t ‘passed away’, he was killed. By a werewolf.”

  “Nonsense!” Someone called amidst the ensuing uproar. Many heads turned to look.

  Of course it was only Brian Tanner, the local doubter. Rumor had it that he kept cats, and didn’t squash crickets when he found them.

  “Nonsense,” he repeated. “Werewolves’re just a tale. What we really must be worryin’ about is how some wolf got through yonder wall.”

  Tongues tsk’d ominously and heads wagged disapprovingly.

  “Heh, sir, if I could venture to call you that,” the mayor panted, “Maybe I misheard but it sure seems to me as though you were questioning The Wall. And in doing so, questioning its blessing, and in doing so, questioning God. Am I mistaken?”

  “Puh,” Tanner spat, saying nothing more. The mayor seemed satisfied.

  “Well we shall leave you with your dubious ideas sir. Meanwhile, let those of us with sense figure out this werewolf problem.”

  Through much bickering and side-taking it was at last decided that the local Friar should be consulted.

  “Radishes and sheep’s milk will keep the monster at bay,” he sagely advised, “and don’t you forget to crush those crickets underfoot!”

  With that the citizens went home happy, for radishes and goat’s milk were both common, as well as popular cures for many ailments.

  Yet Joe still spent a restless night, dreaming that the terrors beyond The Wall seeped through the ground, poisoning his beloved town.

  The next day terror struck again. “Peter the Butcher is missing!” The cry rang around town louder than the church bell on Sunday.

  In a hurry another meeting was called, this time with the Friar in attendance. “W-well,” he sputtered, “It seems as though… Peter did not follow my advice.”

  “My dear late husband had radish and milk soup for dinner last eve,” the butcher’s wife moaned.

  “I-that is, you-no… The werewolf must not have done as I asked. One of us here (excluding me of course) is obviously the monster. We must find out who it is before any more lives are ended,” the Friar instructed.

  “No!” Tongues tsk’d and heads wagged once again as old Tanner spoke up. “Respectfully Friar, we’d do better off lookin’ at the wall! T’ain’t some mystical creature eatin’ our kin, just a normal, savage wolf! We’d best search the wall for how it got in before any more do th’ same.”

  No one bothered to grace his poor, mislead mind with an answer. The Friar went on. “Everyone must sleep here, in the town hall. I will give a sliver of silver to everyone. You must put it over your heart as you sleep. This way we will discover who has the beast within, but the silver will keep them bound. That includes you, Tanner,”

  He finished as Tanner walked towards the door. Joe was hit by a sudden suspicion, and watched carefully as the faithless old man grumbled and sat down again.

  Provisions were dispensed, hay was laid down, and chips of silver were given to all. But as the sun lied to rest Joe was kept awake. He did not trust Tanner to put the silver over his own heart.

  Breathlessly he rose to his feet, searching for the Friar. But all he found was a closed door, the important sounding murmurs of Mayor Matthew and Friar Mark sounding through it.

  Still ill at ease, Joe crept the storage area of the town hall and stretched out behind a crate of candles. The last thing he recalled was placing the silver on his chest and saying a prayer.

 

  Silence. That was what Joe noticed first. Not a calm silence but one of dread, of words ripped from the air by something unseen. rising unusually refreshed from his hideout he walked swiftly to the main hall.

   The smell was the second thing he noticed, a smell of animals and disease… and blood. For there was blood everywhere: staining the hay, trickling slowly down the walls, clumped in blisters on the ground.

  Standing amidst it all was him. Old Tanner. Joe backed away, his fears confirmed. “Please,” he cried, “Spare me!”

  Tanner looked at him oddly. “Who’re you? No, wait, you’re the woodcarver, aren’t ya. C’mere Joe.”

  Quivering with fright, Joe plodded after Tanner, convinced that the critic was going to kill him. But he did something worse. Leading Joe to the edge of town, past the Tanner household which no one ever dared walk by, Tanner stopped by an unseen section of The Wall.

  Joe gasped. Rubble poured from the base of The Wall; a chilling wind blew through the hole torn by time. The Wall was just a wall, and it had left its faithful town helpless. Through this gaping gap had streamed the pack of wolves each night, and as a gnarled furry head poked through it again Tanner turned to Joe.

  Tsking his tongue and wagging his head, he gave Joe his final words before the horde descended.

“A perfect wall will bear scrutiny.”

  • http://none mommacta

    John….Bomo….
    I am so glad to find you…I have heard you on HOTM, following your excellent conversation with Doug Bundy. After that initial show that he appeared on I searched Doug, found Voices from the Dust and the first show of his I listened to you were on….

    You were the first to alert me of the fraud suit the morning it was revealed…Kudos to you…

    You are a voice of reason and logic amongst an ocean of make-believe….Keep it going, you are an inspiration to me as well as inside information and probably the only clear, logical thinker Doug, Sam and Al have ever heard….Doug keeps saying that the “non-mormon Christians just don’t (can’t) see” … Yes, Doug, we Christians cannot see through MUD.

    This new Sunstone kick they are on is validating just how outrageous and bizarre they are willing to go to keep faithful to the ‘profit’ (sic). Please tell me that your brother isn’t truly going along with it….

    I look forward to reading and listening to you updates and comments. I have lived in So. Cal, SLC, and now reside in the fastest growing mormon city in the west, Meridian, Idaho, of which they are scheduled to build a temple less than 500 yards from my home, unless it get’s postponed or qua-bashed due to current events….

    Love what you are doing….

    • Spencer

      Heh, well I’m a Book of Mormon believer, so I remain very impressed with Doug. I don’t know that much about Doug, but I think he’s at least curious about stuff. I find that is possibly why he resonates so well with my way of thinking. There is sooo much to learn I will never have enough time to pursue every interest I have, in this life. I secretly hope that when we die and return to our heavenly father, he doesn’t just tell us the answers, because I enjoy learning the answers on my own (sort of like someone telling you the end of the story before you read the book). Doug’s excitement is infectious, and he’s bound to be excited about his own discoveries or glimpses. Is he right about the stone? I don’t know, but I think whatever you can learn about the stone, it’s probably not central to being converted and you’re right to be skeptical about that discussion. Gospel theory or hypothesis or speculation or whatever you want to call it isn’t for everyone.

      I think what Doug is trying to do is dip into the deeper questions of the gospel, possibly using the discussion about the stone as a way to give the discussion a framework in which those kind of ideas can be brought out. I think he would actually prefer that people called in or video responded or contributed to the discussion in someway because he’d rather help people find answers than talk about his own “theories and speculations”.

      I participate because 1. I think Doug’s got a good heart. 2. Doug’s excited about the some of the same stuff I am excited about. I think that’s enough for me to listen to what he has to say and if at the end of the discussion I think it’s too much theory for me to give it a chance without more support from the spirit, then that’s the way it goes. And I don’t think Doug would be upset about that.

      I also think Jon is a great guy, so thanks for liking him, we disagree some of the times, but I try to be a good brother even if I’m not so great sometimes. Big brother arrogance is sometimes hard to work around, if you know what I mean.

      As for Doug saying that Jon is using the “…reasoning of the adversary…”, I think it’s very hard to be bold in the gospel and have a real understanding of everything and then to use that understanding to recognize when something isn’t what it should be and call it what it is.

      This last part is very hard, as a missionary, you can fall in this pitfall of just thinking all Mormons are good and they all have the same ideals as you do, and that’s where you make your first mistake. We’re all learners, and ultimately all brother and sisters, we’re all trying our best to do the best with the gifts and understanding we have. Add to that you have to have the courage to do what Jesus did when he would call out his own disciples and say things like, “get behind me, Satan” when talking to Peter in Matthew 16:23. I think this is part of why you let the spirit teach you and not the words that you hear at the pulpit, because sometimes I imagine the lord is just sitting there face palming when some of his members are speaking. This is to me a part of the reason people are told that their testimony is gained in the bearing of it, because as you bear your testimony, if you feel the burning in you heart, you might have understood a piece of the puzzle, but if all you feel is good about how clever you are or how much people compliment you on your testimony or even how much they don’t compliment you on your testimony (basically all you got is nothing but either the presence or lack of the accolades of men) then maybe you need to dig deeper and give the lord more than you’ve done up to now.

      The fact that Doug is doing this, what does this mean? I guess you have to ask yourself the question, is he right? If he’s wrong, he’s wrong, but if he’s right, why is he right? I think it’s a mindset that we should always have to be willing to ask questions of ourselves and have a humble attitude. We should be willing to take something that someone says and see if indeed “the laborer” is worthy of his hire.

      • Jennifer

        So, bottom line: Spencer believes his brother is an instrument of Satan and tries to convince him of this through arrogance. What an awesome brother you are!

        • Spencer

          Jenny,
          If this is who I think it is, you’re probably the one person I cannot argue with. Whatever accusation you level against me, I cannot contest. I must suffer it. If you say, I’m not smart, then I’m Grebnedlog, the Pakled. You say I ignored his argument but I thought I gave a response that fit my perspective, albeit minus the monkey poo (chuckle). Anything I say against you, my brother is bound and will defend you, so you see the dilemma.

          My humor or my personality can come off as a little arrogant as my wife is keen to remind me, so I’m sorry if I made light or was insulting. Recently I attended a basketball game and the buzzer sound from that was going through my mind as I tried to figure out the phonetic spelling. It’s difficult to fully express yourself , speaking through the written word, which only conveys a subset of what you’re thinking. Perhaps there is some comfort from the fact that I was true to my word when I said “…I try to be a good brother even if I’m not so great sometimes.”

          I probably didn’t use the right words when I said I would leave the politics to smarter people than me. Perhaps what I meant was I would leave it to people more concerned with these types of arguments who make it their business to task themselves with the sordid details. If the ideas I put forth were without merit, there’s probably no need to comment, since .

          And I didn’t say my brother was an instrument of Satan, I said it was difficult for “me” to make that assertion. However, you’re correct that I basically left the door open to levy that type of criticism by saying that even a disciple of Christ can do and say things which are not in harmony with the spirit, when their thoughts, actions or deeds manifest as such. The righteous can testify, by the spirit, that they are instruments of Satan, as demonstrated in Matthew 16:23.

          I feel a little like Ed Gruberman who disturbed the meditation of a Tae-Kwan-Leap class. So I’ll close by saying “Mind if I just lie down here for a minute?”

          • Jennifer

            My name is Jennifer. And, your apologies are definitely welcome.

          • Jennifer

            Also, what is this odd idea that you cannot disagree with your brother’s spouse? Your implication that you are some type of martyr conveys learned helplessness – which is not healthy and can develop into passive aggressive behavior.

  • Thinker of Thoughts

    Thanks for the comments. The irony of Doug perseverating over an ancient artifact which the church does not endorse and and assuming validation of the Book of Mormon, while the ignoring the facsimiles in the book of Abraham which are demonstrably false is mind blowing.

    Unfortunately, Doug’s complicated and circuitous rationalizations which have the aura of hidden knowledge since they are so incomprehensible have found some traction with my brother. Anything which can suspend the cognitive dissonance which confronting the contradictions reveals would he attractive to many people who are exposed to these things but want to continue to believe.

    It is interesting to hear Doug continue to refer to my perspective as the workings and reasoning of the adversary.

    I decided to sit out the rest of his son stone discussions because the only thing that I could contribute is to remind him that all of his discussions are only valid if there is truth at the root of it and he iHas not established that at this point.

    • Jennifer

      It is an age old tactic of religious persons to shut down those with whom they disagree by casting them with a specter of evil. It was the basis for the Inquisition, no less.

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