The Frozen Pond

Growing up, my dad told a lot of tall tales. I remember sitting cross-legged on the floor listening to him breathe life into the stories with his words. Our family descends from a Scandinavian tribe in the north, so naturally, my favorite stories are based on lore. It was sad to watch my dad grow old, to see the wrinkles around his forest green eyes deepen and multiply with age. I remember his eyes most, so full of amusement and warmth. I’m grown now, hiking with my dog to our favorite campsite. I visit this place every year. It reminds me of the last time my dad took me camping.

The trees had been so full of life that day. It’d been raining for days and the ground was soft beneath my feet. The trail was clearly marked and well maintained, which was a relief due to the gear on my back that seemed heavier with each step. The air was warm and humid, but I was comfortable in my jeans and flannel shirt.

As we walked side by side, my dad began his story, “Melanie, have I ever told you of the frozen pond?” He looked at me from the corner of his eye and gave a sly smile, ready to step into character for the tale. I returned a questioning smile, shook my head, and waited for him to continue.

“When I was a boy, your grandfather would take me camping up here. We’d hike until we reached the pond. It’s extraordinary, Melanie. I don’t want you to be afraid of it.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, the hairs on my arms raising in goosebumps. This didn’t sound like one of my father’s usual stories. He stopped, took a deep breath, and sat on a nearby moss-covered stump. I immediately kneeled into the soft dirt next to him and reached for the water canteen. I handed him the stainless steel bottle and waited for him to replenish his energy so the story could continue. After a few moments, he placed his hands on his knees to push himself up from the tree stump and studied me.

“You have grown up so fast. Where has the time gone?” His voice was warmer now, and as he turned away I swore his eyes were welling up. I squeezed his hand as we continued our hike, still unsettled by his words and disappointed when he didn’t continue. We must have been walking for hours through the trees. The bugs were unforgiving, my legs sore, and my hair damp with sweat. As we walked, my dad gradually went back to normal. He pointed out birds as we walked and told me their meanings. “Look, a murder of crows! They bring transformation and change.” I liked when he told me those things, I cherished our family’s beliefs.

Suddenly, my dad stopped near a line of trees and turned, “We’re here,” he stated. I narrowed my eyes. I didn’t think there was any way that there could be a frozen pond here. It was 75 degrees and humid. I took a step around the trees and found myself in a clearing. I noticed the temperature first, a cold breeze replaced the humidity causing the air to be at least twenty degrees colder. Then, I saw the elusive pond. It was beautiful, the way the light bounced off the glittering ice, with the contrast of the deep greens and browns of the forest around it. It was epic, I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

“This is where we’ll set up camp,” my dad stated. He began working to get the campsite set up, and only then was I snapped out of my reverie. I immediately rushed to his side to take over the heavy pieces so he wouldn’t hurt himself.

“How?” I asked in awe, standing with my eyes glued to the frozen pond, my jaw ajar once camp was set up.

“Our ancestors believed it was of another world,” he started. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. My mind combed through every rational explanation I could find. It was getting late in the day and I knew my dad was tired, so I pushed no further. I helped him prepare food over the fire, and when the sun began to set he settled into the tent. I stayed up a while later staring- mesmerized at the pond, but too afraid to go near it. The moon illuminated the snow and ice, making it even more magical and terrifying. I watched it glisten for a while under the cover of night until I had lost track of time and fell asleep on the ground outside of the tent.

When I awoke, dew covered the grass around the tent, birds chirped and the sky was clear. Dad had slept in, and I let him. I decided to take a walk around the pond, to try to wrap my mind around it. I put on my hiking boots and began the muddy trek around the pond, which was easily the size of a football field. The grass was tall around the frozen pond, a barrier between the ice and mud. The air continued to cool the closer I got to the pond.

As I approached the other side of the pond I finally thought I saw something, some proof that this was a man-made phenomena. Part of the ice had begun to melt! I peered around the tall grass, trying to find a heat source buried somewhere that would explain it. I found nothing, despite now being nearly six inches deep in freezing mud. I looked across the pond to see smoke rising. Dad must have woken up and was making breakfast. I stood and shook myself off before beginning my walk back, disappointed that I now had more questions than before. I walked with my arms crossed in defeat.

I found my dad sitting criss-cross on the ground, looking out at the pond thoughtfully. I sat next to him and he put his arm around my shoulder. I leaned my head into him.

“How was your morning walk?” he asked. I sighed.

“I was trying to figure out how the pond is frozen, while the rest of the area is green. The temperature is well above freezing. I just don’t understand. And then there was an area of the pond that had melted!” I responded. My dad retracted his arm from my shoulder as if I’d burned him. His eyes became panicked.

“The pond is melting? Already?” he asked, his voice was controlled, but I wasn’t fooled. I could feel the panic that now rolled off of him in waves. My blood ran like ice. I nodded my head, unable to form words while my mind and body reacted to the change in the air.

“Dad, what is this pond?” I demanded, shaking. I took his hand in mine and turned so I was sitting right in front of him. As he looked at me I watched as his forest green eyes paled to jade, then to sky blue. Fear coursed through me. I dropped his hand and cried out, “Dad!? Dad, can you see me? Can you hear me?” Tears flowed down my face as the panic took hold of my chest and my breathing sharpened. I looked over to the pond and nearly fainted when I found that the pond was melting much faster than I could have imagined. Now, easily half the pond was clear water. My stomach churned as I felt my world close in around me.

“My child, I thought we had more time,” he said, his voice heavier and slower than normal. My heart clenched. Was he saying goodbye?

“Dad, please, what’s happening?” I sobbed. He took my hand in his and put it to his cheek. I used my other hand to wipe the tears from my face. He closed his eyes so I could no longer see the terrifying transformation.

“‘When the pond thaws, the Elder transforms.’ It is a story I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I am so sorry, my child. I should have told you. I love you, and will never truly leave you. When the pond freezes again, you will find me here,” he said.

“You did not bring me on an adventure to a magical pond just so I could watch you die,” I sobbed to him. I wrapped my shaking arms around him.

“No, Melanie. I brought you on an adventure to a magical pond so you would see for yourself. I am not dying, I am only changing forms. The traditions and stories are true,” he whispered, hugging me closer. I closed my eyes as tight as they could and pressed my face into his shoulder. I willed the past few moments away. There was no magical frozen pond, my dad was not dying right in front of me. When I opened my eyes, they were puffy from crying, and my throat hurt. I looked at my dad, and watched in agony as he took his final breath.

All I remember next is the shattering sounds of my screams through the forest, my grief shaking the earth. When I looked out to the pond I found it had completely thawed. There was nothing magical about it, not anymore. I picked up a rock and threw it as hard as I could, trying to smash or destroy the pond in some way, but the rock only splashed and the water became still. Eventually, I found my way to the tent and cried myself to sleep.

When I woke up, my father’s body was gone. For a moment, I hoped I would find him walking around. I searched everywhere for him. I eventually decided to pack up and begin my hike home, alone. I needed to get home, I needed to get out of the woods and away from this place. Maybe my dad would be home waiting for me and I had hallucinated the whole trip. When I had finally gotten everything packed up and on my back, I turned to leave the pond, which was already icing back over. As I began walking, I encountered a wolf in my path. It was small for a wolf, and stared right at me. For a moment, fear iced over my heart, but I didn’t want to fight. I wanted to lay down and let the wolf kill me, I didn’t want to go home alone. Then, the wolf walked closer to me and bowed its head. I looked at the creature closely, trying to gauge if I was in danger. I peered straight into its forest green eyes and gasped.

“Dad?” I whispered. Hope prickled my chest. The wolf perked its ears and dropped its tongue out. I let out a giggle and reached my hand out to give the beast a pet. I kneeled, eye level with the wolf and realized that this had to be my father. I was beginning to understand. It was just like the stories said about changing forms. Relief flooded through me as I wrapped my arms around the wolf. We walked home together that day, side by side.

Today my father comes and goes as his spirit allows. Visiting the pond is sacred to him in his new form, so every year we come to let him drink as it thaws. After he has his fill, we watch as it refreezes and we stay until sundown. I am forever grateful that though my dad is not the man who wove the tales of our ancestors, his presence continues to watch over our family. He chose the wolf, a symbol of guardianship and loyalty. I see him in the dancing trees, in the ice that covers the pond, in the beast that walks beside me, and in the green eyes of every creature I meet.