The Harper Valley Nature Center

I reached my breaking point. I had enough. Storming out of the living room, I shoved on my double earflap winter hat and coat. Grabbed the gloves that were balled up inside of the pocket and forced them over my fingers as fast as I could, then knotted my scarf around my neck. Without saying another word to my parents, I went to the main hallway and stomped outside into the cold night. Every breath created a plume of smoke. Snow sprinkled down to the earth, and it was oddly quiet. Every step felt muted, like a sound studio.

It was pleasant.

The change of pace from the chamber of shouting in the living room to the serene winter landscape of my neighborhood settled my heart rate with each step. My adrenaline spike from screaming at my parents was dwindling, and my walk slowed down to a leisurely stroll.

I was outside, away from them. My only friend around was the snow. There wasn’t enough to stick to the ground, but it was glistening under the street lamps, twinkling its way to the ground.

I had lost track of how far I had been walking. The next thing I knew, I was in front of the Harper Valley Nature Center, a mile away from my house.

No one in school ever went inside at night. They all seemed too afraid. Even the popular kids looking for a free haunted house-type experience claimed they would never return at night again.

As I walked past the sign and got swallowed up by the woods, I remembered an urban legend that kids spoke about. Some kind of story where an 18-year-old kid tragically drove his car into the Harper Valley pond. He was drunk driving after a night of partying, and he was trapped inside his vehicle as it sank to the bottom.

Although the teachers at school say, “That never happened.” Then why were students so afraid to visit the nature center at night?

I had never gone. It had never been an interest with my friends. Though as my head stopped reeling from the evening’s confrontation, I found myself hypnotized by the idea. I had to go inside and see for myself if there really was something on the frozen pond.

The woods gave me goosebumps as I walked through the main path. Something about the trees at night with their bare branches made them look wicked in the dark. Fortunately, the sprinkling snow helped alleviate some of my fear. I heard a few creaks and branch cracks as I marched my way through in my boots.

As I ventured deeper into the woods, I heard the faint sound of a piano playing. I stopped dead in my tracks, closed my eyes, and focused purely on the sounds.

Yes, I heard a few slow singular notes, without a doubt. They were higher up on the keyboard. I hurried closer to the source. Was I approaching someone’s house? If so, they had to have been playing the piano... outside? Or perhaps they were blasting a piano solo in the confines of their home, with the windows opened. But I thought I was close to the pond?

Further along the path, I was getting close to the opening, and the piano grew louder. It was a joyous song. The player’s fingers danced up and down the keys. It started slow, but it kept speeding up. The precision and skill were high caliber. Not a single note was off or out of place. The song made me think of jubilant memories through my sixteen years of living. The magical piano melody made me forget why I was walking through the Nature Center at night in the first place. The song kept going faster and faster like a roller coaster speeding up towards the end of the ride. Then it slowed to a stop, ending on a high pitch, optimistic note.

I finally saw an opening of the frozen pond from a wooden bridge. I saw a glowing figure of bright blue light sitting at a piano.

I gazed at the apparition with my jaw dropped, and I smacked my hands together as hard and fast as I could.

"Bravo! Bravo!" I hollered.

The spirit turned and looked at me. It was shaped like a human wearing a pianist concert suit with two tails from the jacket reaching the knees. I could see the mouth, just a line of light curling upwards. The spirit bowed.

It floated over to me, and I felt my heart race. Part of me wanted to run, but for some reason, I knew it wouldn’t hurt me. Something in the back of my mind told me there was nothing to be afraid of.

“Wow, what an honor it is to have an audience,” The spirit said. Its voice was ethereal and part of the wind.

“You were amazing! Can you play another song?”

The spirit’s smile grew a little wider. “I most certainly could. Anything, in particular, you would like to hear?”

“Your favorite song!”

“But I just played my favorite song.”

I snickered. “I can understand why. It’s such a happy tune. My name is Maggie, by the way.”

“Maggie. It’s a pleasure. My name is…” The spirit zoned out. “To be Frank, I don’t know my name.”

“How about we just call you Frank?”

The spirit laughed. “Works for me.”

“How did you get here? Kids at school talk about you. They said that you were a senior in high school that died in a tragic accident.”

The spirit took his head. “I’m not sure. I just know I like to come here to play the piano. Here, let me play you one more song before I have to retire for the evening.”

“But wait! I have so many other questions for you!”

The spirit floated away, sat back down on its bench, and moved its digits on the keys like rhythmic raindrops. The song was another peaceful melody that soothed my soul. I leaned up against the rail of the bridge and watched the spirit.

This song made me think of heartfelt moments through my sixteen years of living. The emotional rides I had already been through, but yet the melody made me feel excited about experiencing more.

The spirit finished playing, and then it faded away into nothing, making me question if the whole thing was just a mirage.

I heard its omnipresent voice through the wind. “Thank you for listening.”