I didn't want to break into the house. As a high school kid, I hadn't really known any better-well, at least that's how we rationalized it. Now, I felt that I needed someone to back me up. I needed help.
So, I called back the powers that be in town and told them I could prove that the place had historic value, and that it should be saved. I was told that it had been sold and there was already a demolition permit. But, if I could give them enough proof, they might be able to stop it, if the house hadn't already been torn down.
I jumped in my car and sped down to the old house, parking crooked beside the lawn. I noticed the demolition people wandering around as I raced into the house. Fortunately, the door was open. I knew exactly where the fireplace was that he was talking about. It was where we had placed our pop cans when we visited during those high school days. How strange to think that we were so close to history without even realizing it.
My hands were shaking as I fumbled around, fingering the cracks and broken areas of the fireplace. I found a little metal army figure, and knew I was in the right place. There were a few crackly pieces of paper in there, and then I could feel the crease of an envelope.
I didn't even dare try to find the time to read them.
I just hurried out, noticing the members of the demolition crew staring at me.
"Oh, Miss, are you trying to get in the way of demolition?" one of the men asked, laughing and flicking his cigarette ashes, which floated aimlessly to the ground and died out.
I wrinkled my eyebrows in confusion. Then, I realized, they must have thought I was some crazy person on a mission, ready to stand in the way of a wrecking ball. Well, I might as well play the part and not disappoint them, I decided.
"That wrecking ball has to go through me first," I said, matter-of-factly. Then I wondered if the wrecking ball was more of a myth than a reality. Did they still actually use them? It just seemed like something from old television news shows.
I leaned against the doorway. The cut glass and wood design were from 1849, as I knew so well from all my research. Then a second thought crossed my mind.
