Short Story (Cerpen)

Old Piano

Category: Ghost Horror Short story

Title: Old Piano

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'Well, here he is. Results I can write. I don't know how else to tell you. I think this is the only way I can tell everything right. I hope you can understand.'

That's the opening line of the letter I received a week ago from Eddie. He moved out of the complex. By carrying all his belongings' was no exception.

From the window I saw the piano. The worn-out piano that Eddie would often tell about, was moved by the men into a blue rental truck parked in front of his house. The classic-style piano, which had almost all of its broken keys, was moved from Eddie's house into a rental truck. I do not understand the way of mind of the person who has just been my neighbor for 2 months who will move again.

'What is the old piano being transported for?'

Maybe for some people who want to move house, some old items that can not be repaired (used) again, will usually be left in his old house. Or even thrown away, it might as well be burned. Well, at least better donated. But the other thing with this guy. He was so sentimental about the piano. Let me be clear. This piano patterned Weber Grand, which is certainly expensive, classic style in the 1900s, black. According to Eddie's story, he got the piano from his grandfather who was an accomplished pianist in his day. He also said that in the past, his grandfather had one stage with Scott Joplin from Texas. His grandfather died a year after the piano was given to Eddie.

The piano keys were almost entirely dysfunctional. The wood has been weathered and there are holes because it was eaten by termites. He often inserts stories about this piano on the sidelines of our conversations. Sometimes I think he's crazy. He used to say that whenever he would sleep, his grandfather would always be in front of the piano and play a lullaby for him. 'Huh, that's right, this guy is crazy'.

Well, you certainly think it's crazy. I was too at that time. It was unexpected that the crazy person was a hundred percent normal and there was no mental disability.

Well, let me continue the contents of Eddie's letter, so you understand what I mean.

'You think I'm crazy, don't you? It's okay, man, a lot of people think I do. But you know, some people who thought I was crazy, have now become patients in mental hospitals. I'm not making this up (joking) about the piano, man. I myself sometimes feel scared, even almost crazy about this. He was there and played Bach's 'Toccata and Fugue in D Minor' while I was sleeping. That was his habit from the time I was 10 years old until he died. I left that piano at my old house not long ago, and you know what I found? The piano was in my room the next morning. I know you're someone who uses common sense or logic to solve all your life's problems. So did I. Looking at this incident, common sense is useless. If you were in my current position, what would you do? There's no solution I found here, man.'

Well that's what he is. It's Eddie's letter I still have. This letter is full of puzzles that are not understood.

Good. Let me introduce myself first.

I'm Peter. I've only been neighbors to this man for two months. You could say we've been familiar the last month. He also works where I work. Well, you know, spending lunch time 'company break' at the same table, working at the same company, in the same field and living in the same complex. We talk a lot about our day. I was married and had two children, a boy and a girl, while he was a widower who was left by his wife because of his strange behavior. He was interested in music, just like me, just different genres.

If you look at him, he is a quiet, nervous person, but takes everything around him seriously. Sometimes I am confused to see it, he is the one who connects when invited to talk, any topic even though it seems he is trying to harmonize the atmosphere of conversation. He has no children, he lives alone in his home.

Sometimes it's weird, sometimes it looks like a normal person. That's why I assume he has a little mental illness. Even so, I never kept my distance from him.

Our house is only a few meters away. Separated by a bunch of shady pine trees. Haah, just like this. We live in a very large housing complex. In this complex there are two hundred heads of families who inhabit their homes. If you visit this complex, you will encounter many pine trees. That's because the complex is indeed far above sea level on the plateau. In this complex there is a main road flanked by Georgian-style houses. So, the separation between one house and another is a pine tree.

I will continue my story.

Look, that time, if it's not wrong Saturday, when I invited him to his house with some complex men. I saw someone coming in with us. As I recall, he was old, about sixty years old, wearing a black tuxedo that looked worn out. As long as I was a resident of the compound, that was the only time I saw this person. Strangely enough, I didn't see him at Eddie's house anywhere.

Maybe, for some people who are in my position will not take a headache. But I'm telling you. It was him, Eddie's grandfather.

Let me continue.

While inside, some of us were chatting with each other in the living room. Enjoying the fried beans, sucking on a skirt*k and some bottles of wine provided by Eddie at the time. Well, this party was actually made in order to have each other? between men? know better. Moreover, Eddie is a new resident in this complex. The ones at this party are all men.

As Eddie and the other neighbors chatted, I was more interested in an old piano that was not far from where they were talking. I sat on that piano chair and wanted to play one of Bach's songs 'Minuet in G'. Unfortunately, I couldn't play that song because the keys were almost all broken.

I went back to where the friends of the complex had gathered. It turned out that they were watching a football game. I don't want to look clumsy, join them 'even though I don't like football games.

'This is what I saw when we went into Eddie's house, ' I murmured, glaring at his black eyes. Everything black. His face was pale as lifeless. He smiled at me. So wide. What a big smile it is. I swallowed my saliva. I was shocked and frightened, spontaneously looking back. Strangely, I found no one.

A moment later Eddie said to me.

'You saw him, huh? I'm sorry if he didn't let you play the piano. He was a little stingy indeed' he said while looking at the glass.

At that time I didn't understand what it meant. I guess at that time the strange disease recurred again. But it turns out that it is not a strange disease. He said honestly. His grandfather wouldn't let me play his piano. And the person I saw at the time was his grandfather.

I got goosebumps after understanding what Eddie meant back then.

'meaning?' I was surprised by a little frown

'Well, you know' Eddie stopped for a while 'he's a master pianist. He always thought that if his piano was touched by people, then the game became ugly'

'Ooh' I don't understand. But I'm still scared. So scared.

The clock is two o'clock in the morning, which means it's Sunday. Some of us have even fallen asleep on Eddie's couch, some drunk. The football game we saw was over an hour ago. I was still half sleepy and half drunk, saying goodbye to Eddie who was still awake.

'It looks like it's morning. I'd better be in bed now, before my wife doesn't get me next to her.' My eyes were almost half closed.

'Oh, sure, please. I'll take.'

'Nothing, I can do it myself. You better wake them up before their wives wake up.'

'Hahaha, alright.' Eddie's laugh was made up.

'See you later'

'Well'

I left Eddie's house. I don't look back. My path staggered due to the influence of the wine I drank. That was the first time I drank so much wine that I got drunk. I faintly saw someone playing the piano on the main street.

'Who are these nights.' I said slowly.

I approached and patted the piano player who was playing Beethoven's 'Fur Elise' song while staggering. And then he stopped playing. I was half-drunk, thinking that he was a man with a lack of work.

'H-hey man. You'd better play tomorrow morning'' I'll pause for a hiccup 'you'll wake up the whole complex because of your play.'

Then I left it there. I looked back and it disappeared. I'm laughing a little. I thought that he listened to my advice and went straight to bring his piano home.

I woke up bad that day. My wife and son went to church. I went down the stairs and found a cup of hot coffee on the table.

'Surely they haven't been away long' I murmured inwardly.

I turn on the TV and the program that opens right away is an old TV show program. This time the theme is about the great musicians who had succeeded in his time.

I get bored every time I see that useless show. But there's something different. I saw someone I saw last night playing (duet) with Scott Joplin. And I can't be wrong. He was the one who played the piano on that main street.