Beyond the Wall

A short story, by David Almond, written for Boundless

David is one of 30 children's writers, and one of three from the UK, to win the international Hans Christian Andersen Award

My name's Joseph Rose and I'm 15 years old and I live at the edge of the civilised world. This Wall was built by the Romans 2000 years ago. The limit of Empire. Beyond it were madness, wild men, monsters. Ancient maps bear dire warnings. Danger of Death. Do Not Enter. There can be no Return.

Now the tourists come, in their coaches, on their bikes, in their boots. There are museums, rebuilt forts and temples. Billboards are filled with information about the distant days. To the south are green farmed fields, villages, cafes, camp sites, hotels. Hexham, where our school is. On clear days the spires of our city, Newcastle, can even be seen. The civilised world.

The land to the north is said to be beautiful now. It has hardly changed since Roman days. Miles of moorland, black rock, bogland. Bracken, heather, gorse, thin copses. A few twisting tracks. Farmhouses on far off ridges. Scattered flocks of sheep, herds of rough haired cattle. Hardly ever anybody out there.

For Anthony McGonigle and me, that land is our land. We were born in the same hospital on the very same day. He lives in a stone house just like mine, just a field away. Our parents always encouraged us to wander, to explore, to be brave. Why live in a place like this and not take advantage of it? From the beginning, we all took long walks together through the wilderness. We saw adders and deer and foxes, and buzzards wheeling high above. In summer, we slept out there beside a fire beneath the stars, and our dads told tales of distant days while the sparks swirled and shooting stars blazed through the heavens above.