The Pond that is Always Frozen

Growing up, all the kids had their own ideas about what lived in the frozen pond a mile outside of town. The pond was never given a name, it was simply known as the frozen pond. Charlie Sims said it was full of pond snakes. Lane West said it was full of demon spawn. We would terrify each other with stories of what could be lurking in the depths of the frozen water. Stories filled with unsuspecting victims lured to the water's edge, only to be plucked from our world and dragged down into the next. In every story, the pond was always frozen, or icy, or ice cold. But it was not just the stories; one of the many curious things about the pond was that it was always frozen, or, in some months, filled with large chunks of ice. Anyone who dared walk close to the edge of the pond would find the ground slowly growing colder with each step. Of course, if you took it upon yourself to investigate the claims, you would find no one who could confirm them. But everyone in the town has seen the frozen eeriness of the pond from afar, summer and winter, it was always frozen there. One could argue that the pond was more like a lake, it did have quite a large island almost smack dab in the middle. Three large fir trees dominated the island, their icy needles always shining in the sunlight. It was the new year festival; the celebrations were always held in sight of the pond. It was a tradition, the origins of which no one could remember, yet it was done, year after year. And so, every person young and old, big and small was brought forth to see the frozen oddity in our otherwise warm world.

Besides the stories us kids came up with, there was always the folk tales. The stories our grandparents would tell us, the stories our parents would always get mad at our grandparents for telling us. Those were the best stories. My grandfather would sit us down every Friday night after family dinner for a story. After a fruitless argument from my mother, which would always end with her throwing up her arms in defeat and saying, “go ahead and tell your goddamn tall tales!”, and a shrug of the shoulders from my father, he would gleefully begin his “goddamn tall tale.” It always began the same way, “once upon a time, there was a pond that never froze....”

He told us of the unsuspecting family who recently moved to the area. They had fallen on hard times and decided to make a fresh start somewhere new. One day the patriarch of the family came upon a glorious fishing hole, a half-frozen pond teaming with fish. He threw his line in the water and not five minutes elapsed before he got a bite on his line. The man struggled and struggled with what had to be the biggest fish he had ever hooked before. Indeed, it was a monster, it was a record, it would go down in history as the biggest catch in the area! However, as fate would have it, the man would never be able to brag about his magnificent catch. Delighted with his good fortune, the man returned home, and he and his family prepared and cooked the fish. It was a feast unlike they had ever had before, one of many more the man had hoped to have. That night, the man started an entry in his journal, when the sun had risen the next morning, the journal entry was unfinished, and nothing was alive. Only the bones of the fish, and the bones of the man and his family were left to tell the rest of the tale.

Another favorite was the story about the man who was running for mayor of our small town. Upon hearing the stories of the frozen pond and seeing a perfect opportunity to clinch some undecided voters, the man marched through two feet of snow to the frozen pond. A cruel December snowstorm had fallen upon the area, and despite this fact, the man insisted he would see this haunted pond. The would-be mayor was never seen again. Many figured that when spring came and the snow thawed, they would come upon his bones along the path he had taken. But this was not the case. No trace of the man, from a piece of clothing to a bone or tooth was found of him, despite a most thorough search of the entire area surrounding the town and the pond.

But the story I love the most, the story that has inspired me, was the story about the boy who became lost in the woods. He was lost for two days before he came upon the frozen pond. He did not know what it was, or the dangers that lurked so close, and he gazed down into the frozen depths. Reports from the time reveal he had stumbled back into town delirious and rambling about the cold black eyes. When the boy regained some resemblance of sanity, he was questioned. He claimed he had seen dozens upon dozens of glowing eyes in the pond; it had reminded him of glow-in-the-dark koi fish. But when he saw a pair of giant black eyes that seemed to glow with an undeniable evil, rise towards him, he lost all consciousness and could not remember a thing until had awoken in his sick bed almost three days later. He went missing a week after that, nothing was seen or heard of him again.

These are the stories we grew up with. These are the stories that inspired us to scare the crap out of each other during sleepovers. What is true and what is not? No one I know has ever seen the frozen pond from up close, from the edge of that frozen and unknowable darkness. But I have decided to find out. Tomorrow morning, I will start out on my journey. Where did all these stories come from? What or who inspired them? Is there any truth to the folklore surrounding the frozen pond? I have left a note as to where I have gone. Will I become another story for the grandparents to tell? Or will I be remembered as the one who revealed the secrets of the pond that is always frozen? No one can say for certain, but one way or another, my questions will be answered.

End