The Ballad of the Pipe Player

by Kate Seidel

“Daddy?” the little boy asked, after a few minutes of silence. “Why did Coh-ju have to die?”

  The father turned, his face grim in the moonlight that had descended upon them.

  “Sometimes people have to die, even if they don’t want to.”

  The son mulled this over, then inquired,

  “What happened to Em-rees and Moon?”

  The father chuckled, stepping across a fallen tree and lifting the child over.

  “That, my child, is a different story for a different time.”

  Taking this into account, the wearied child asked,

  “I like this story. It’s a good story. Can you tell it to me again?”

  The father grinned, a smirk remnant of years past.

  “But we are home, and it is bed time.”

  Indeed, the two had broken through a line of trees into a little clearing in which a cottage rested. It was too dark to make out exactly what it looked like, but from the silouhuette it was a gentle home. A solitary candle shone in the window.

  “Look, your mother has waited up for us,” the father pointed out. Running towards the door, story temporarily forgotten, the little boy disappeared into the house.

  “Goodnight, my son,” the father murmured, “Goodnight.”

  About the Author

             Kate lives in New Jersey with her family and friends. She loves salamanders, writing, reading, theater, and The Book of Deacon trilogy. She dislikes spiders, any sort of athletic activity (excepting badminton), and horror movies. She uses pennames all over the writing world. It’s up to you to determine whether ‘Kate Siedel’ is real or fake. Unless, of course, you know her personally, in which case you already know.

  Acknowledgements

  I’d like to thank some more people while I’m right here.

  First is Josie-yes, Josie again- because no matter HOW many of my stories she’s reading, if she sees me working on another one she’ll demand to read it.

  Mrs. Sanders for all the reading and advising and tolerating me! Mrs. Sanders  best teacher ever :D

  Sarah, Zach, and Alysha for inspiring character personalities here and there…plus Alysha read my story in one night, when I expected it back in a week.

  Next is my mom. She is THE ONLY ONE who’s read this that has liked Coju, including myself. I mean, I guess underneath the jerkiness he’s okay, but I wrote him to be 99.9 jerk. So I don’t like him. Emrys…on the other hand…

  This leads me into thanking my three best buds with this story…

  What? You don’t know who they are? Have you even READ the story?

  Thank you, Emrys, for always having a line I can throw out there when Moon’s crying and Coju’s grumbling. I swear, sometimes I think you’re a real person. I can’t come up with snark at all in my day to day life.

  Thank you, Moon, for always doing what YOU think is right…even if it’s completely wrong. I had a ton of fun writing your accent. Hehe…

  And LASTLY… thank you Coju. You know, I wrote up there that I didn’t really like you. And it’s relatively true. But I do believe had I not killed off your parents you would be a kind, generous, heroic person. But then you wouldn’t be Coju, and we would have a stereotypical blond surfer hero. And that just won’t do! Also, I’m sorry I killed you. Must feel kinda bad knowing that the person who invented you doesn’t like you very much. But you’re a character, and don’t have feelings unless I write that you do. Alright, I’m confused. I’m gonna stop typing now…

   (No, Coju, Moon, and Emrys are not real people. They are a work of fiction. Any relation to anybody living or dead is pure coincidence. And yes, I talk to my characters, like practically any fiction author in existence. How else do you think we get their inner dialogue?)