The Man on the Wall

When I was about ten, I guess, and in the fourth grade I drew stick figure men everywhere. I had them on my book covers,school papers,on scraps of paper,tee shirts and sometimes on me ! I don't know why I took such an interest in making these stick figures. I'm thinking maybe it was because I couldn't draw any better, and still can't for that matter. At any rate, they were abundant.
It was about this same time my father was doing some remodeling at our home. He was putting new wallpaper on  the walls in the stairwell. Wallpaper was a more expensive choice than paint and more difficult to work with. As you can imagine doing it in a stairwell presents its' own challenges. When it was finished and he was inspecting/admiring his handiwork he saw it ! One of those stick figures was drawn on the wallpaper;with a pen ! Well,let me tell you the Inquisition was convened immediately. I was the prime suspect. I protested my innocence. Evidence was brought forth. Exhibit number one being those book covers. It was definitely a match. Or so the Inquisitor found. No matter how much or how often I declared my innocence it was to no avail. I was found to be the guilty party;period.
I don't recall what the punishment was but whatever it was I suffered through it knowing I didn't do it. The man on the wall was  in ink so it could not be removed. It remained there for years, mocking me. Over time it became somewhat of a family joke. My father would say, "and you didn't draw the man on the wall."I had to endure this sarcasm.
As time went by and I grew into adulthood I began to think maybe I had drawn that man on the wall. I had so often been accused of it and I did draw them a lot. I don't remember doing it but maybe? Still,I would laugh and deny ever having done it each time it was mentioned.
Many years later my father was in the hospital. I was visiting along with the other family members.
He was gravely ill and we were trying to lighten the mood by talking about the old times. As so often happened the man on the wall was brought up. I denied it again. My father says to me,you can tell now,I sold the house a few years ago. Laughing he says,quit living a lie ! My brother is standing there grinning like a Cheshire cat. I say to him,whats' so funny? Then it all came out. He told how he had drawn that man on the wall . He couldn't remember what my alleged wrongdoing against him was but the motive was revenge. He told how he had copied that figure,an easy task,and placed it right were he knew it would be seen. An evil plot.

About ten years later,after my Father had passed, I went back to my hometown for an impromptu reunion. While I was there I went to my childhood home. I introduced myself and asked if I could look around. She agreed and said, take your time. As I walked through that home all the memories came flooding back. All the Christmases,Birthdays and good times. I walked up that stairwell and to my surprise the same wallpaper was on the wall. Yes,you know that little man on the wall was still there. I silently said hello to my nemesis and touched it. I was finally vindicated. I think the shrink would say I found closure.



As I remember