The Castle In The Sand
But lo, a stir is in the air!
The wave–there is a movement there!
As if the towers had thrust aside,
In slightly sinking, the dull tide…
[The City In The Sea, Edgar Allan Poe, 1831.]
I dreamt of that place again: that ancient house long sunk into the sand. I think I have seen it fall myself, though in my dreams, it always retains its true form and structure long after the earth has swallowed it.
When I was younger, I could enter it through a little opening in one of the walls: a small round hole, like the rabbit's hole through which Alice went. But it has been such a long time since. I have grown up now and am unable to enter it.
The last time I checked, those soldiers had completely sealed the opening. They did not let me near it− it was all due to that stupid war. However, this time around, the seal has been lifted and I can descend below to its level.
I tried the hole but knew already that it was of no use. Other people also wanted to enter it, to see inside, to search for the supposed treasure inside, even if you tell them that there isn't any.
Some tried to send their children but they were afraid and refused to descend into the darkness. Although as far as I remember, it had never been dark. I have always been able to see every little detail − though I don't remember any of it now.
Over the years, it must have deteriorated. Its golden walls crumbling, dampened by the seeping sea water; its marble floor covered with dust and dirt, pieces of stone, broken wood scattered all over the place; the roof full of cobwebs − perhaps thinking of caving in.
They − the soldiers − considered it a dangerous place, and advised the people to stay away. But they did not say anything to me, or I like to believe so. Why should I stay away from it? After all, it belongs to me. I am its rightful owner. All its treasures belong to me, even the dust and the cobwebs, the piles of sand and rock; everything belongs to me, to my family, to my father and my mother.
Mother had sent me to see it, since the army had cleared off. I really wanted to try to find a way inside. I stood there for sometime, watching. At first, I was alone, and then there were lots of people − some nasty, mischievous children, silly parents, nosy tourists – come to spend a day at the beach. Seriously, why don't they mind their own business?!
They just gathered around and stared at the mound in the sand, finally moving away defeated. Thank God, I did not have to stop them. They'd have ruined that place…my place.
But there was this one particular man, or rather boy, about my age I think. He dared to put his head into the hole and I had to tell him to stop. "What are you doing? This is my house, my private property, and you are trespassing!" He did not seem to listen− he continued his poking around− but he knew when I spoke to him; he somehow knew that I was desperate to get inside, to see what had become of it.
He did not say anything, but I sensed that he intended to help me. But no! That's not possible. Surely, he wants to get in and have all the treasure for himself, just like everyone else − selfish, greedy humans!
Anyways, the opening was not big enough for him either.
He suddenly came up with a horrible plan. It was to blow up the chimney, situated a little further than the outer opening, in order to make a larger hole in the roof.
"No!" I gasped horrified, "you will destroy it!"
I wanted to shout but my voice refused to come out as loud or as forceful as I intended.
"Don't worry," he said quite casually, "Just leave it to me."
This time he spoke looking straight into my eyes. I almost felt him wink− but no, it was probably just the light…
He is so forward and imposing, I thought, and so confident. There was something about him that I trusted, but, still sceptical about the blowing business, I waited by the hole, thinking silently…while he went to get the explosives.
I did not have to wait long though. He arrived just as suddenly as he had left. It is strange that I had both feared and hoped for his return. I do not know him, yet somehow, feel very relieved to see him. It felt very lonely out here − those seconds alone in this place, besides the dark, gloomy fissure in the wall− with all the nosy people gone. The beach is nearly deserted, it being almost noon.
He began ordering about the men he had brought for the job. It was all done nicely. There was hardly a cave in with the explosion, as I had feared. But there must have been some destruction inside I thought. I wished he had not done it so. He seemed in such a hurry, almost too eager, and yet he had it all planned out. He had even bought torches and helmets.
We were lowered through the widened chimney in a sort of makeshift lift- the kind you see in old mining movies. As we landed on the floor, I looked all around me. Dim light seeped through the roof, lighting up the edges of walls, the stairs, the grey, reddish and black stones constituting the walls and roof of the mansion.
The structure was the same, but the place had changed. It was a ruin, not a home anymore.
Dust was everywhere, in the air, on the walls, the few random furnishings in that room, dust covered the floor, along with the remains of a fallen wall − damage I believed due to time and not due to our small explosion− and a few broken stones scattered around where we landed.
The grand staircase on the left seemed to be falling apart, its wooden railings broken and drooping. Most of the paintings in the hallway were gone; those present were askew. The tapestries were torn, and the curtains hung low on their fittings. A broken table lined the western wall, its dust cover falling off. Surprisingly, there was no leakage or dampness anywhere, despite the place being situated so close to the sea.
We were in the main hall of the building. From where I stood, I wanted to go deeper inside, explore all the rooms to confirm my doubts; I believed that the inner depths would still the same as I left them. I wished them to be. I know I deluded myself, but it was unbearable to think of anything else!
He wanted me to hurry. He had given up hope of finding any treasure the moment he had set foot here -'in this mess,' as he called it. At least that is what he said to the others, who all turned away, preparing to leave. He said that the place was unsafe and just then the roof creaked ominously as if to highlight his point.
He asked me to leave too. But I knew in my heart that my treasure was still there; not gold, not silver; nor pearls, diamonds or rubies; but the house itself, its walls, its roofs, its floors, the little things that were left behind. The objects I had yet to see − little souvenirs − memoirs of a family that lived there, their small everyday things. I imagined the dishes, the cutlery, some books, the frames, drapes, old toys, clothes, furniture, a dust covered rug, and a broken clock stuck in time…all left behind; abandoned in their hurry to leave…
No! I cannot abandon it. I would not leave it unexplored. And I knew he would not leave me behind; would stay with me. There was something in his eyes that assured me, and let me know, in that one glance, that it was not any material treasure he was after... at least not anymore.
The roof creaked again, and a strange rumbling sound seemed to echo through the earth. There was a hustle as the workers scrambled to get out. At last, only he was left waiting by my side, as the last pair of workers were already inside the lift.
Suddenly the floor began to shake, and the noise increased. He was saying something to me…I could not hear, too lost in my own thoughts…perhaps he was telling me to come with him…I could sense his urgency…
But in that moment I felt as if I could stay there, forever…I knew that there was some strange connection between that place and me. What could it be that pulls me here, again and again, like a spell that does not break…
I had to find out…I must find out...I could not leave…I must not leave…
And I stood there transfixed, as time seemed to stop…before everything began to fall apart…
It was too late now…
The waves have now a redder glow-
The hours are breathing faint and low-
And when, amid no earthly moans,
Down, down that town shall settle …
[The City In The Sea, Edgar Allan Poe, 1831.]
Notes:
1 Title The Castle In The Sand from the phrase 'castles in the air'
2 "rabbit's hole," Ref. to Alice In Wonderland by Lewis Carroll