Rijuta Gohil
Harsha.gohil@gmail.com
THE GOLD HARP
In the year 1551, a man named Saldan Heiy and his dog Max went into a forest with a harp. No one knew the reason he went inside or why he took a harp made out of pure gold with him. Saldan never returned. The rumors said that he left the harp on a bank of a river and that the harp is still there. They also said that the ghost of Saldan Heiy sat there playing a sad tune on the gold harp.
In the year 1750, Osrac Heiy, a boy of 17, visited a museum he read about the rumors and wondered out loud, “Is it still there?
“No one knows for sure,” replied an old man. “Many people tried to find it but they returned looking disappointed.”
“Maybe-!”
“I hope you aren’t going to try and find it. You heard the rumors. The ghost of Saldan Heiy haunts it.”
“There is no such thing as ghosts! I am going to find and prove it to you” yelled Osrac and he raced out of the museum.
“Foolish young man!” muttered the old man.
Soon, Osrac was ready to go. He had packed everything they needed. He and his dog, Rover, took a plane to the outskirts of the forest. Osrac took a look at the woods. It was so dark that you could only see the beginning of the woods. ‘Glad I brought my flashlight,’ he thought though he was starting to regret his choice. After all, he was just a boy. Rover whimpered with chattering teeth. Osrac said, “Don’t worry; we are invincible, right boy.” Rover tugged his shoe. Osrac gathered up his courage and plunged into the woods.
At night, Osrac was still pounding through the woods. Rover was ahead of him, running like crazy. “Rover, stop,” Osrac said, wheezing. “Let’s rest here.” Rover fell asleep. Osrac didn’t want to sleep just yet. He thought about the old man’s warning. ‘Why did I get myself into this?’ he thought. Then he thought, ‘Where is the excitement I had before?’ The thoughts raced in and out of his mind. He felt like he was in a debate. He thought and thought until his head hurt and his eyes started to close. His last thought was, ‘Where is the harp?’
Osrac woke to a large tongue licking his face. For a moment, he thought it was still night. Then he realized that it was very, very foggy. It was so foggy that you would have to be 50cm away from an object to see it! Osrac had never seen such thick fog! He fished a sketching book out of his bag and was about to start sketching when Rover picked up scent. He sketched a picture of the fog, packed everything up, grabbed his bag and took off after Rover so rapidly, it made light look slow. “Rover, Rover, heel,” he yelled. And Rover came trotting back with a cap in its mouth.
Osrac could feel his heart thudding against his chest as he examined the cap. It was worn out and very filthy. Twigs and leaves covered it. There were also many holes. Any place you looked there was dirt, mud, holes, leaves, and twigs. Inside the hat, in very faint letters, were the initials: S.H. Osrac thought about the initials until something went click in his head. “This is it, Rover,” he said. “This is the man’s hat.” He was so excited he couldn’t say anything else. They had found a clue!
Soon, Osrac was racing through the forest at an astonishing speed. Osrac soon slowed down. The energy drained out of him. They found a clearing and hit the deck. Osrac woke up in the middle of the night. He heard a sound of river rapids. He woke Rover up and packed their belongings. Then he pounded toward the sound.
Osrac only stopped once to make sure he was heading the right direction. He zigzagged down the mountain. Osrac ran and ran. He ran even though his lungs were on fire. Ahead of him, Rover was running fast, too. Then “Aaaagh!” He went flying over Rover and landed in a bush. He was near a river. He looked back to see what he had tripped on. He saw something shiny. He went closer and saw an old fashioned jacket with shiny stripes. On the front, the name ‘Saldan Heiy’ was printed. He walked a few yards down the river. Then his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. They had found the harp!! “Rover, here, boy!” he called. ‘It’s true,’ he thought. ‘It’s really true.’ He rushed towards the harp, only to fly backwards. Osrac shot to his feet and looked around, heart thumping. What was that? Suddenly, Rover started whining and covering his ears with his paws.
“What is it?” Osrac asked. Then he heard it too. High pitched music was flowing clearly through the forest. The source: the harp. Osrac’s eyes widened as he scrambled backwards. He could make out the faint shape of a man, sitting next to the harp. But the outline was shimmery and not clear. Osrac squinted his eyes to get a better look. He gasped as he realized this man was Saldan Heiy. That wasn’t possible. Saldan was 25 over 100 years ago. Was it actually him? Was it the ghost of Saldan Heiy? Osrac narrowed his eyes and approached the harp. Suddenly the figure flew at him.
“BEGONE!” it yelled. Osrac screamed and flew backwards. Without looking back, he and Rover hightailed it out of there.
Osrac never did get the harp. Of course, he never told anyone about it. Yet the memory of 125 year old Saldan Heiy playing the harp by a river, remained in his mind forever. And they say that to this day, you can hear the sad tune of Saldan Heiy’s gold harp.
THE END
