Oh! Starry Night!

“Play, son. It’s our family’s now.”

   With stubby, tiny fingers, he gently opened my keyboard lid like a child unwrapping a Christmas present. His face was concealing his nervous, yet excited feelings. I could tell from the way he sat down to the energy inside his fingers. Although I do not have eyes like a human, I can “see” like any human and animal on this planet. What I could not “see” coming was our intertwined futures.

  ‘My home now,’ I thought.

  The open window across from me allowed a cool, spring breeze to rush in and fill the house with the scent of new grass and flowers. To the side, a young, small tree with baby leaves was planted in the backyard and could be viewed through a larger window. This house was definitely remote from a large city, a positive sign since nobody could bother my music.

  After a solid minute, the boy finally returned his gaze to his mother and father. His smile was a candle that lit up the room. He rushed towards them with a powerful hug and loud “THANKS!”. 

  “Eugene,” his father smiled, “Remember to share with this fellow the love and care you share with us. Promise me that this fellow will always be your best friend.”

  The moment his father's knees made contact with the dark coffee-colored carpet of the room to let out his hand, without hesitation, the boy gave his promise. I sensed fire in his eyes. Like a fireplace, they were not dangerous and flaming fury, but instead filled with warmth, comfort, and confidence. He and I, with a new spark in our hearts, were ready to take a journey to another world.

  Nevertheless, he was a boy and needed time to become familiar with me. He spent his sunny days and starry nights experimenting the keys, listening to single keys, then combining doubles and triples, seeming to understand that each combination produced a unique, distinct sound. I could frequently hear his father’s voice in the background and occasionally sense a pair of adult hands join the boy’s, hearing a master’s voice say “No worries” or simply “Try” in a different, but still encouraging voice. 

  “AH! Not again, urghh…” groaned Eugene. 

  Bashing his hands on my keys, a horrid false harmony of misplaced notes rang and I wept along with him. With black lines forming under his eyes and glowing red fingers from the constant playing, I could tell he had exerted and reached his full mental and physical capabilities and was worried his spirit had floated somewhere else. But he had his dad, guiding him at tough times with a pat on the back and encouraging him with proverbs; his favorite: “It always seems impossible until it’s done”. He had me, a thoughtful and talented piece of himself that no other piano or instrument could replace with the same chemistry and relationship that we had built. And his eyes, like the blazing fires in Van Gogh’s Starry Night, had not died either. 

  Thus, his endless efforts and time investment did not go to waste. While his fingers grew at incredible lengths, stretching over an octave(eight keys), his musical senses developed to the point he attained perfect pitch, a rare ability that can be possessed even among the most talented musicians. He would frequently listen to songs of his choice, listen once more, then use his notebook for note tablature, his handwriting as swift as a flowing river. His adaptability and learning speeds reached incredible heights as well. After a full year of supervising, I had discovered that he had learned more in the last month than he had during the first months of the year. The memories of me staring at the clock, which read times past midnight, and wondering when he would go up, are still vivid in my mind and heart. Though I admit I sometimes wishfully asked him to leave me, I had never been that proud and touched to such a degree by his endeavor to keep his childhood promise and mature as a phenomenal musician and piano player. 

Through the years, Eugene and I formed a new language of telepathic communication, speaking through the melodies of our deep feelings. We passed through the tough times unscathed, the good times with more hope, especially when he played “Hey Jude”, a song of meaningful advice that we enjoy time and time again, singing to each other not “to make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better. Remember to let it into your heart, then you can start to make it better.” 

  There was a time like that. There was a time... 

  Something felt odd. I checked my surroundings to see what it was. The morning sun was just rising and the wind was gently pushing the now adult tree. If it was not the weather, then what?

A sudden noise fell into my ears. From the wall, Eugene slowly turned toward me with the legs of an adult, not the Eugene I knew centuries ago. His long, thin fingers were holding a metal object, a familiar object-

  ‘No!’ I cried, ‘A phone?!’

  Sure enough, he had a phone in his hand. Its audio jack was plugged in, following up the side of Eugene’s coat to his ears, where weird pod-like objects were stuck in place. I faintly heard heavy music coming from them, music unlike the lovely songs we collaborated in the past. A sudden, vicious anger tugged at my heart. 

‘What a disgrace! Eugene!! I am your...um. jukebox or... whatever you guys call it these days! Where is your respect for your master!?! Look at me!!’

  Nonetheless, thoughts. I was a tree, the likes of the one outside, filled with decades of experience and wisdom, but unable to tell my story and simply stay, through the seasons, days and nights, until I degrade and vanish from existence, with no one recognizing, much less recalling, who I am.

  In front of me, a stranger laid on his bed, laughing at the piece of metal that stole the laughter and happiness I used to share with him. But what tortured me was not the happiness nor the laughter; time, which can never be brought back. My time with him seemed so long, but now so short. I spent the lonely nights staring out at the tree, the only friend who seemed to empathize with me the heartbreaking feeling digging into my core. 

During one of those lonely nights, a click of the light switch near the wall made me hold my breath. Sudden excitement rushed through me, but it left as quickly as it had entered. His father.

  “Hey fellow,” he said, seeming to have trouble speaking, “Hmmm… I see nobody has played you for a while… look at this dust.

  “What should I play?” he seemed to wonder for a long time before deciding.

  “Yesterday.”

  A flicker of his original cheerful manner came in, but his unusual sadness replaced it in a snap. After a moment of silence, he carefully pushed the keys and started the song. The word yesterday hit me like a knife through my heart. Going into the second verse, I started crying like a newborn baby, crying uncontrollably because of a deep sadness coming from the father and me. Sad, shining stars dropped from his eyes. That is when I realized that this might be my last song with anyone, for I knew that he was gone. Eugene had gone somewhere, far, far away.

  Another starry night. The hooting of owls and chirping of crickets embraced my, once again, lonely heart, with another night about to pass. With all my keys, I prayed for him. I knew there was nothing more painful than enjoying the happiness and memories, having all of it taken away, and living on it for the rest of my life. Please, please…

Click. 

  I focused my attention one last time to the sound.

  ‘Just for a moment, please’

  Out from the darkness, there was light. I thought I recognized the Eugene I knew. Yes, there were major differences, but his eyes had returned. The eyes of a fireplace, warm and cozy, filled with love. I had trusted him. I never regretted that.

  With large, calloused fingers, he opened my keyboard lid with familiarity and ease. His face could not conceal his regret and terrible feelings. Although I do not have eyes like a human, I can “see” like any human and animal on this planet. What I could now “see” was our fates. Like that, he started.

  “Don’t go changing to try and please me. You never let me down before.... I just want someone that I can talk to. I want you just the way you are.”

  With tears in his eyes, he continued with his final song until he could not play anymore.

  “Everybody knows it hurts to grow up and everybody does. It's so weird to be back here, let me tell you what. The years go on, and we're still fighting it, we're still fighting it.”

  I am a tree. I came out of the long, cold winter, survived through the bitter feeling of loneliness, and I am now in spring, a time when the flowers blossom and new leaves grow. And like the leaves, grass, and seasons, that always return the same, I will be his best friend, once again.