Return of the Piper

All families have secrets… don’t they?

Despite having a relatively normal childhood, Hayden often wondered if there were things that his family never told him about. Beyond the normal things that parents didn’t tell their children and the children didn’t want to know about, that was. It was his mother who seemed determined to not speak of whatever it was, but his father never questioned her weird behavior… or maybe it was only odd to him. Like… why was she so vehemently against him joining the band this year, especially when she found out that he had wanted to pick up the flute? One minute, she was hesitant and the next, she was digging her heels in. At first, he thought it was some stupid thing about it being a “girly” instrument. Some of the other kids at school had called it that, but he had a lot of proof against that idea. He had ended up settling for playing the flute during music class, but it was too short and busy to learn it, but it had to be enough. There were other odd little things, like not getting her to talk about where her side of the family came from even for school projects. They were minor things to him though. 

At the moment, the only thing on Hayden’s mind was was what snacks were in the kitchen and how to keep himself entertained while his parents were out for their monthly date night. To be fair, good for them in taking it, but they could have at least let him go over to his friend’s house for the evening. Ten minutes and a raid of the cabinets found Hayden with a bag of chips, perfect for eating while trying to keep busy. He had been restless for the last few weeks. His usual methods of keeping himself entertained (video games and movies) weren’t cutting it anymore. He puttered around the house hoping something jumped out at him. After making a circuit of the house and back into the kitchen, he resigned himself to watching tv. Maybe there would be a documentary or something on. He tossed the empty chip bag in the trash. As he turned, the cellar door caught his eye. It had become a silent agreement in the house that his father generally handled anything that required going down there. His mother and he hated the downstairs. Well, he did… his mother came across as more afraid. He didn’t like that there wasn’t much light, so it felt kind of claustrophobic. Not that there was much reason to go down there. It was just used for storage and the fuse box was down there, which was the only thing that made him go down. 

Shaking his head, Hayden turned away, going back into the living room. He watched mindlessly but kept glancing toward the kitchen. After two cooking shows and a weird commercial that he wasn’t entirely sure was allowed on the channel, he got up and headed back into the kitchen. He walked straight to the cellar door but stopped without opening it. He wasn’t entirely sure why he kept thinking about the cellar. He knew there wasn’t anything down there that they hadn’t put down there. It was full of old clothes, tools… the things that only saw the light of day a few times a year at most. Still, he couldn’t let go of the idea of going down there. He sighed and opened the door. It would be better to get it out of his system that way he could get back to… tv or something. He’d deal with that later. 

Hayden stepped down and reached out for the switch, taking a few tries before finding it in the darkness of the stairwell. The light from the kitchen did little to light more than the first step. The switch that was a hands width away was perpetually in darkness. The light flickered a few times before coming on, bringing light to the depths of the cellar. It was enough to make sure none of them would fall, but not nearly enough for his taste. He waited a moment for his eyes to adjust before descending into the cellar. As he expected, there were boxes stacked everywhere. Most of them were concentrated on the left side, as his father kept his tools and the things for taking care of them on the other side. His mother once said it helped keep their things from picking up the more pungent smells that came from when the lawnmower had to be stored down there. It wasn’t an overly large room, but he wouldn’t be able to touch any of the walls if he stood in the center. Thankfully, it was a mostly finished cellar so there were less… critters to surprise him as he walked over to the boxes. Very few of them were labeled. He had marked his things in some stupid attempt to make sure he could find them again. As if he would ever be interested in toys he had outgrown and clothes that should have been donated years ago. 

He shook his head, unsure of what he thought he would find. He moved one more box before giving up; even with nothing to do, he could still make better use of his time than going through their stuff. Getting up from the ground, he started stacking the boxes back in place. 

La La Lalala

Hayden stopped, dropping his hand to his pocket before realizing he had left his phone upstairs… weird. He could have sworn he had heard singing, and his phone was the only thing that would make that kind of music. He had clearly spent too much time downstairs and needed to get out of the cellar. He’d put the rest of the boxes away in a few days after he cleared his head. Not like anyone would notice for awhile. He walked back over to the stairs before stopping.

La Lala Lala

There it was again! Where was that singing coming from? He turned back around. Maybe there was a radio or something that still had batteries in it? Hayden took a quick look around, hoping that he could spot what had made the sound so he could turn it off and get out of there. He didn’t spot a radio though his eyes were drawn to the furthest spot in the cellar where the light didn’t really reach. He slowly walked into the gloom only stopping when his foot hit something solid. He knelt down and reached out until his hand brushed another box, only this one felt firm with cold metal along the edges. As his eyes adjusted a bit, he realized that the front of the box was latched with a simple turn knob. It was rough as he ran his hand over it and made him nervous to touch. His parents would trip if he messed up something that was obviously older than he was. Still…

He turned the knob and opened the box; the creak from the hinges echoed in the dark, making him jump. Taking a deep breath, he reached into the inky shadows that filled it until his hand brushed something smooth… cold. He wrapped his hand around it and lifted it out. A… flute? The wood, even in the dark, was darker than the wood of the box. There were few embellishments save for one at the bottom. Otherwise, it seemed plain, no metal or anything that he recognized from the flute the school had in their storeroom. No, this was simple… old. His hand curled around it, bringing the instrument up. He blew a single deep note that seemed to echo in his head. 

Hello, my Piper.

Somewhere through the fog of his mind, his mother screamed.