Playin' Piano

Dah-dah-dum-dum-BLAT!

Chanyeol winced when his wife hit the wrong note on the piano for the thirty-second time that day. He knew it was the thirty-second time because he’d kept count as he went about his daily chores, cleaning the lighthouse, checking the supplies, mending the rowboat.

Chanyeol blamed himself for his wife's latest obsession. He should never have taken Hyoyeon to attend the concert when that high-flutin’ concert pianist came to town. But it was a special occasion and everyone they knew was going. So Chanyeol and Hyoyeon went too. And Hyoyeon decided right then and there that what she wanted more than life itself was to play the piano.

Chanyeol tried to talk her out of it. No one in Hyoyeon’s family was any good at music. But Hyoyeon was stubborn. If she couldn’t find a dad-gum way, she’d make one! Before Chanyeol could count to ten she’d bought a cheap, used piano (that was always out of tune) and hauled it over to the island on her brother Jamie’s fishing boat. From that day on, it was practice, practice, practice. Morning, noon, and night Hyoyeon sat at the piano with her piano book open, plunking away at the keys. At first, there was not much to hear, and Chanyeol could ignore the sour sounds. But after a few months, she got better…and a lot worse. There were parts of her song that sounded pretty good; but she never, ever got that one line right.

There was nowhere on the small island that Chanyeol could go to get away from the sound of the piano, even when he sat in his favorite rocker out in the woodshed with cotton in his ears. Hyoyeon’s new hobby was the source of much contention between the husband and wife, who had never argued before in their entire lives. Now they argued every day about Hyoyeon’s piano playing.

“At least try to learn another song,” Chanyeol begged his wife. But Hyoyeon was stubborn. “I ain’t going to learn another song until I’ve mastered this one. You’ve got to practice to get better Chanyeol.” And Hyoyeon went back to her piano and started playing again. Dah-dah-dum-dum-BLAT/ Dum-dum-BLAT-BLAT-ding.

Things came to a head the day a nor’easter roared down on the island. Chanyeol and Hyoyeon were holed up together in the lighthouse hour after hour after hour. Chanyeol had nothing to do but sit and carve decoy ducks. And Hyoyeon played the piano. Hour after hour after hour. Around four p.m. Chanyeol leapt to his feet and shouted at his wife to stop playing the blasted song. Hyoyeon leapt to her feet and shouted that she was going to practice until she got it right. Something in Chanyeol snapped. Afterward, he felt bad about the way he chopped up the piano with his axe. After all, it was a valuable instrument. Try as he might, he couldn’t feel bad about doing the same to Hyoyeon.

Chanyeol put on his oilskins, took up a shovel and dug a grave out back of the woodshed. He buried all the little pieces of Hyoyeon with all the little pieces of her piano. He figured she would have wanted it that way. That night, with the nor’easter raging and pounding the island and the lighthouse rattling and shaking wildly in the blast, Chanyeol got the best sleep he’d had in months. No more piano playing, ever.

After the nor’easter blew itself out, Chanyeol spent the rest of the day cleaning the blood off the floor and walls of the lighthouse. After that, he did his daily duties and carefully noted in the log-book that Hyoyeon had been swept out to sea by a huge wave while patrolling the beaches, helping Chanyeol look for shipwrecks.

In the middle of the night, Chanyeol was startled awake by a familiar sound. Dah-dah-dum-dum-BLAT/ Dum-dum-BLAT-BLAT-ding. He sat bolt upright with an oath. It sounded just like Hyoyeon playing on the piano. This was impossible, since she was buried behind the woodshed.

Chanyeol leapt out of bed and felt around for his axe. Blast! He must have left it in the woodshed. He picked up a large piece of firewood and carefully stepped through the door into the main room. To his astonishment, he saw a glowing green, translucent piano standing in the place where Hyoyeon had put it. The keys of the ghostly piano were playing all by themselves. Dah-dah-dum-dum-BLAT/ Dum-dum-BLAT-BLAT-ding.

Then he heard Hyoyeon’s voice from the stairway leading up to the light. “Chanyeol. I told you and I told you. I ain’t going to learn another song until I’ve mastered this one. You should have listened to me!”

Chanyeol whirled around and gazed up the stairs. Standing a third of the way up was the translucent white figure of his dead wife. And in her hands, she held his axe.