Piano

A short piece by Lifelike

The piano was out of tune. Remind me to get that fixed, won’tcha? Its chords were sour and rang through the empty room with frustrating energy, drunkenly bouncing off the walls into the bookshelves lining the back, into the fireplace, out the chimney, screaming outward, shrinking in. What’re you on about? It doesn’t sound that bad.

Its bench’s leather was tearing, worn, over-used. I don’t see the need to get a new one. This one still holds me up, don’t it? When touched, it creaked unsteadily and swayed back and forth, wobbling and shifting. When I play? It don’t bug me, not at all. The keys, made from that rare, precious ivory, were chipped and yellowed, the black keys were scratched. I once wore a big ring and played the piano. See that dent? That was from the finale. One helluva finale! Where her fingers touched, dust came easily and coated her hands with smooth, dry powder. You know this house has a history.

She sat down at the bench. Play it whenever you like. Her hands lifted from her lap, rested gently on the keys. Push. Push the keys like this. See? You made a chord. She aligned her fingers: one-three-five; C-E-G. It’s the most basic chord in the book, but look how much progress you’ve made! She pushed, and the warped strings gave her sound that was not beautiful like she had always remembered it to be, but cold and burning, like frostbite in her ears. When you first sat down, you didn’t even know what a C-chord was! See! She shifted finger three, the elegant middle finger, to the black key, E-flat, and pushed again. Look, see, this is a minor chord. It’s got a haunting sound. Hear that? Eerie, huh? Again she pushed on the keys, and again the piano made a noise that was so different from what she had heard those all those years before.

I promise you, I won’t leave. I want to teach you piano before I go, so you can really remember me.

The floor was scratched hardwood, the walls were painted peeling cream. This room was just painted. It looks nice, doesn’t it? Her shoes made ominous hollow clicks against it as she walked. I want you to come in here and meet me every day now. I want to teach you. I want to teach you how to play. She looked down at the keys. When I’m gone. Her hands slammed down on the keyboard, shoulders rose and fell, her body wracked with sobs.

I’m going to teach you piano, so that when I’m gone, you can play me a pretty song. I promise you. I promise you.

That promise left such a bitter taste in her mouth. So don’t forget to come here every day, okay? What lies she had been told! I love you. That’s another thing you can’t forget. You can’t forget that I love you. What wonderful, cruel, unreachable things she had been promised! I still have a little while. She had never gotten them, those lessons. We’ll learn more chords. Just that C-chord, that simple chord. I promise

The harsh noise resonated through the room, her sobs mingling with the ghostly sounds of the clashing notes.

Hold my hand?

She was full of forgiveness. I’m sorry. We all make mistakes.

Take good care of the piano, won’t you?