19 Strings for the Harp

By Andrew Pender

After Nektarios “Nick” Strings endures a public and humiliating downfall, he flees from Niagara-on-the-Lake to Field, British Columbia. There he becomes immersed in self-harm and alcohol abuse. After years of struggling with self-hatred, he quietly returns to Niagara. He learns that his father’s once enchanting hotel, The Purple Eclipse, is now a mesmerizing nightclub charmed in deception. While still trapped in his mental incarceration, happenstance occurs when he befriends Natalie Harp. The beauty that’s been trapped within their pain starts to leak from out of the dark. What unfolds, will become an end to something that never ends.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Andrew Pender
• Release date: Sep 26, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463488188

Andrew Pender

Growing up in Southern Florida and Western New York crafted Andrew’s eclectic taste.Music, theatre, and sports kept his imagination engaged. But it’s the interactions withthe incredible people he has encountered, especially during his summers living in MiamiBeach, that had the greatest impact on his perspective of life.“A smile to a stranger can be a powerful thing, because it can spark a conversation youboth probably need. The adversities we keep captive seem to burst when you begin tomake sense to someone besides yourself. I include myself when I say this, but I find thatpeople wonder what the purpose of all this is. And where they fit in life’s puzzle,” Andrewexplains.It was from those conversations that he began writing a story that eventually became 19Strings for the Harp.

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19strings-cover.png

Andrew Pender

19 Strings

for the Harp

Copyright © 2019 by Andrew Pender. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or his agent.

Produced by:

TLAC Toronto Printing & Publishing

525 University Ave.

Toronto, Ontario

M5G 2L3

www.TLAC.ca

ISBN: 978-0-578-53246-2

Printed and bound in Canada

Credits

Author

Andrew Pender

Editor

Jonathan Campbell

Copy Editor

Heather Conn

Manuscript Evaluation

William Greenleaf

Book Cover Concept

Andrew Pender

Graphics

Mike Pietrobon

Photos

Niagara Falls and Great Falls Portal

Andrew Pender

The Trail and Author Photo taken at Queens Royal Park

Paul Kupicha

Purple Sky

Ayu Shakya from Pexels

Dedicated to all those fighting the good struggle

19 Strings

for the Harp

Nostalgia In Niagara

you glisten, severing the nerve from the sky above you

inviting the clouds and stars to bleed through

the mist starts swirling into the form of hands

trying to hug me while I stand

paralyzed while you shine like chrome

all I can think about is making you my home

you light up the crystallized eyes so they’ll spark

so the enchanted can maneuver when it gets dark

it’s an experience I always want to renew

every time I come to you

that’s why as the young faces grow old

you remain

leaving your mystery for generations to behold

Love is one of the essential ingredients that will captivate our imagination as we struggle through the weeds of discernment. The transformation from innocence to skepticism through events that always seem to fail you is discouraging. But once love presents itself, you’ll know it when curiosity activates your heart. Gradually, the detachment you once felt dissolves, opening up a path for you to run without any obstacle strong enough to slow you down. With each stride you take, you reach towards the rays shining from above.

The hardest part of love is recognizing the difference between what is love and what is artificial. Artificial love, in time, will always make you feel like a garden without sunlight. At first, you’re living, not knowing you have no sunlight, but after a while you will eventually dry up inside. Nothing else changes people’s lives more than the pursuit, passion, destruction, beauty, and comfort that one’s heart feels. It can turn rational people irrational. The paradox of perception generates the fuel of emotion that can take you either on a journey through hell or heaven.

I’m not from Niagara Falls, Ontario in Canada but always wanted to be around it. It embodies every quality of a person with true beauty from openness to a quiet glow. If you approach beauty and nurture it, your love will be reciprocated. But if you approach it with self-serving intentions, you will be left roaming the earth so emotionally empty that the only way you’ll feel loved will be through a distorted, counterfeit charm.

1

My name is Nektarios Strings. I was born and raised outside Vancouver, British Columbia on Canada’s west coast. Life out there is awesome. The mountains, oceans, parks, beaches, and architecture give me a feeling of euphoria. When I was there, my eyes could never settle long on anything because each area demanded my undivided attention. What I always enjoyed the most was the overcast weather. That’s not a favorite feature for most people, but for me, the dark clouds would hover over the area in a weird way that accented the city’s most complimentary features, like its spectacular mountains and ocean. It’s like when you find a picture of yourself: the aspects you like most are the ones that are darkened a little; that way, you can really see your best features. To me, overcast days are God’s way of giving us a cleaner resolution, a more detailed view of what we’re looking at. I always felt my most creative when the clouds came to visit. In Vancouver, that happened often.

I’m an only child who was fortunate not only to have both parents still married, but still in love with each other. I have seen the devastation that divorce has had on some kids. And I have witnessed the awkwardness in growing up in a house where parents don’t get along. My friends would tell me how lucky I was, so I never took my parents for granted.

I grew up simple. My dad was the manager of the maintenance department at one of Vancouver’s most prestigious hotels called The 19. Situated on the Vancouver waterfront, it had stunning views of Coal Harbour and the snow-capped North Shore mountains. I remember always wondering why the hotel was called The 19. My dad explained how he felt the name was a perfect place for him to work. I was born on the 19th of February, and the hotel opened soon after I was born. He saw it as a tribute to me. My dad saw symbolism in a lot of things that made him think of my mom and me.

My mother was the kindest, gentlest person I have ever known. A stay-at-home mom, she would spend a lot of her free time at one of Vancouver’s homeless shelters called St. Philaret the Almsgiver. I would help her serve food and play cards with people who came by for lunch. During the winter, they opened up a larger room with twenty beds for the homeless. Three times a year, my dad and I would volunteer to assist through the night.

My mom found a lot of symbolism and parallels between nature and God. She grew up in Calgary, Alberta. Since one of her biggest hobbies is running, she’d run through many of the hiking trails in Banff, especially around Lake Louise. First day of spring is usually always March 20. That’s when leaves start to spring up on the trees and everything that was once dead in winter comes back to life. On that day, she made it a tradition, while growing up, to come up to Lake Louise and run on a particular path at Mount Fairview.

I asked her why it was always on that day. She explained to me that when it gets cold, the fluids that fed the leaves can no longer feed, so they change color and fall to the ground. The tree does that so it can survive during the winter’s cold, dry air. She went on to say how we’re like a tree. During a time that is hard to survive, whether emotionally or physically, we have to shed part of ourselves to survive. She would run that day because she wanted to be a part of life that signaled to nature: grow again. That’s what spring is: time to grow. For her, running in spring symbolized bringing life to what was once dead. Once you reach the end of the trail, you see an indescribable view. That is why she called that spot God’s Eyes.

But I wouldn’t say we were a religious family. Although we believed there was something more to this life than what was present, trying to figure out the meaning of life didn’t interest me. We like to help others because we enjoy making people’s life a little easier, as my mom would say. Trust was always important. As she once explained, trust is having the opportunity to take advantage of someone but you don’t. Ruining someone’s life for your gain was a mindset she never could comprehend.

I remember one time at the shelter, this guy came in who was really hungry. My dad gave him something to eat. Turns out it was his birthday. The poor guy didn’t even know what day it was as life’s struggles were taking their toll on him. His landlord had evicted him because he wasn’t able to make rent. My dad hired him to help out at The 19. He tried to do that for a lot of the people who needed work; my dad had such a big heart. He truly cared for people. Sometimes, I could overhear him telling my mom how some of the people staying at the hotel would treat him disrespectfully. The 19 is an expensive hotel, so you can get a few snobs there. Sometimes some of the guests viewed him as a peasant. The entitlement that people feel when they have money really turned my dad off. I don’t want to make it sound like all rich people are like that. I have seen many people, rich and poor, have the best manners. All money really does is showcase what’s already inside of you.

I learned a lot about life in Vancouver. It’s always ranked one of the best places to live in the world and I can see why. Between the beauty, people, foods, activities, it’s just great. But another place that I grew up visiting every summer became a part of my home: Niagara Falls.

One of my dad’s best friends managed a hotel called The Purple Eclipse, which was under the same ownership as The 19. The Purple Eclipse was known for its prime location overlooking both the American and Canadian falls. Every summer, we would stay with his friend, his wife, and son Vladimir, who was around my age, at their house in Niagara-on-the-Lake, about twenty minutes northeast from the falls and hotel. It’s an old colonial town that sits right on Lake Ontario and there are many wineries around there. Because we were very close, I called them Uncle Georgy and Aunt Anna. After I was born, my mom couldn’t have any more children. I know this bothered her because she wanted a big family. Since I had no siblings, Vladimir helped fill a void. I liked my friends in Vancouver, but nobody was like Vladimir. We just clicked like brothers and I always missed him when we would go back to Vancouver. They would even come up to Vancouver and stay with us when Uncle Georgy had business meetings at The 19. I always wondered why my dad never worked with Georgy because both my parents loved Niagara Falls. Whenever I asked if we could move there, he would always just smile and say, some day.

Uncle Georgy was originally from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He found his way up to Niagara Falls when he met Anna, who was from Toronto. They met one night during a hockey game in Toronto between the Pittsburgh Penguins and the Maple Leafs. They sat next to each other, as fate would have it, and haven’t parted since. To be close to her, he started working in hotels in Toronto. When they got married, they moved to Vancouver, where he got a job at The 19. That’s how my dad and Georgy met.

When we visited Niagara Falls, Vladimir and I would play sports outside or work in the vineyards in Niagara-on-the-Lake, Vladimir used to play hockey. He had a reputation for starting fights when he saw anyone playing dirty, even his own teammates. He liked a fair game and never lost a fight. The officials would joke with Uncle Georgy that players were always on their best behavior when they played Vladimir’s teams in fear that he would get upset.

When I finished high school, things started really changing. Since I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, I continued helping my mom at the shelter and my dad at The 19. One afternoon, when I was fishing with my dad, we talked about life. He was always very interested about my feelings regarding wealth. Because I really liked my upbringing, I had no reason to be jealous of anyone who had more than we did. A bigger house and nice cars would be awesome if I could afford it, but they were nothing I dreamt about having. I was wondering if my dad was going through some midlife crisis. Maybe he felt he didn’t do enough for us. But I soon found out that wasn’t the case. Our conversation during this fishing venture was something he had waited for since I was born.

Congratulations on graduating high school. I’m proud of you, my dad said as he tossed his fishing line into the lake.

I’m proud of you too, dad.

Remember how you always asked me about us moving to Niagara? Since you’re not sure where you want to go for college, what do you think about moving to Niagara-on-the-Lake next spring?

He turned to me and smiled. I was ecstatic. Immediately, I knew what I wanted to do: work at The Purple Eclipse. I asked him if he thought Uncle Georgy could find me a job working with the marketing department at The Purple Eclipse. My dad’s smile grew even larger.

You’ve always had a creative mind. I think you would be a good fit there. I can take care of that for you. We don’t need to ask Uncle Georgy.

I paused for a second, wondering what he meant. Since Uncle Georgy managed the hotel, why wouldn’t I go through him? That’s when he finally revealed his secret.

The 19 and The Purple Eclipse—those are my hotels. I own them. We are, in fact, a very wealthy family.

I didn’t know how to respond. I just looked at him. The first thought that came to my mind was, So why didn’t we do more dinners at The 19?

My dad laughed. He started to tell me how he came to own those two establishments. Before I was born, even before he met my mom, he had worked in this five-star hotel in downtown Vancouver called Chateau Mystique. One of the finest hotels in the city, it had vintage architecture, the best views of the water and downtown, best chefs, you name it. His first job there was as maintenance man. My grandpa had taught my dad everything about fixing things around the house so he had learned his trade early on. By the time he was in his late twenties, he was managing the hotel.

The owner of the hotel took a liking to my dad, kind of like the son he never had. After he passed, his nephews took over the hotel. To his surprise, the man had left my dad with some money. That’s when he bought an old building by the water, fixed it up, and started The 19. Once that grew into a success, he built The Purple Eclipse from the ground up on some prime waterfront real estate in Niagara Falls after he had proposed to my mom. The Purple Eclipse was built to represent his love for my mom; when he had proposed that night, she was wearing a purple dress and there was a lunar eclipse above Niagara Falls. The hotel was gorgeous. It had an aura that kept people coming back. Many wedding receptions and celebrations took place there.

Since I was born, the success of The 19 and The Purple Eclipse had made my dad a fortune. But while working at Chateau Mystique, he had seen how poorly behaved some of the kids were who stayed there with their parents. They were very entitled, rude, and ungrateful. When my parents had me, my dad feared that I would be like them. He wanted to give me a simple upbringing, to raise me to be modest and levelheaded. Now that I was older, my dad was going to get the house of his dreams in the town he loved most: Niagara-on-the-Lake.

When we moved to Niagara, it was supposed to be the next chapter in a life that was so fulfilling. And it was, for the most part. But something horrible happened to change that joy. Something always happens to all of us that makes us ache like everyone else aches.

Signify

when you’re talking to yourself

and you don’t seem to mind

because that’s the only time

you’re understood in your lifetime

…and it makes me wonder

my alteration is the result of this chain

I drowned knowing I’ll never be the same

I wish I never could give it a second thought

kind of like forgetting all the things you’ve bought

…and it makes me wonder

what is the purpose of a life that’s just a struggle?

is this just training camp for an afterlife you also have to juggle?

so I’ll just turn the page to signify what I need to uncover

but my mind is disfigured so this will be difficult to discover

….and it makes me wonder

but at least no one’s going to bother me anymore

no more strings sold in the store

I look around at where I’m going to live

will nature be just as combative?

…and it makes me wonder

October was when my dad had revealed to me his fortune and plans to move to Niagara Falls. Now here we were in March, ready for the move. My last day in Vancouver was an emotional one. My dad wasn’t interested in loading up a huge moving truck filled with furniture, beds, clothes, dishes or any other stuff families accumulate over the years. We kept a few items that had special meaning to us but nothing that we couldn’t load into our SUV. We donated most of our belongings to programs dedicated to helping families in need.

Within a few hours, our two-story, board-and-batten home was empty. I had pretty much grown up in this house. I thought about all the simple memories of mom cooking dinners, us watching television shows or hockey games together, friends coming over to play games outside, taking my dad’s car to go on dates. But we had sold it and now someone else would be living here. That was a strange feeling to know that whenever I came back to Vancouver to visit and would drive back to my house and see the lights on in the home, that wouldn’t be for me.

Out of all the Vancouver places I’ve been to, whether it’s Stanley Park, the Capilano Suspension Bridge, Granville Island, Robson Street, Coal Harbour (the list goes on and on), the one place I would miss the most was St. Philaret the Almsgiver Shelter and the countless people I met going there. I knew this goodbye wasn’t forever, but not having access to the shelter within a short drive stung. The last time I was there, when we were saying our goodbyes, John, who operated the shelter, always had one of my favorite sayings: Feeding the hungry is like raising the dead. I told him he was one of my biggest influences and thanked him. That was a tough goodbye.

It took us almost a week to drive east across the country to Niagara-on-the-Lake. Although March weather can be unpredictable, we were fortunate. The sun was out and roads were free of snow for most of the drive. It was as if Canada was basking in summer sooner than expected. Since my parents love traveling, they didn’t mind the long drive. I kept busy listening to music and writing in my notebook. I don’t consider myself a writer; I just like to write down thoughts that are influenced by the music I listen to.

We broke up the trip for a few days in Calgary, which is a great city if you have never been. We went to the Red Mile, a street full of bars and restaurants. It’s a prime location before a hockey game if you want to see the Calgary Flames; they were in town to play the Maple Leafs. Even though we were Vancouver Canuck fans, my dad and I were even bigger hockey fans in general. I remember the game very well. The Flames won. What I remember most was seeing this little girl and her dad in front of us. She was so excited to see the Flames win in overtime that she leaped into her dad’s arms and hugged him. My dad always said, You know the best thing about being a sports fan? It gives a bunch of people something to cheer about.

My mom was excited because during our short stop in Calgary, it was the first day of spring. So, on March 20, we drove up to Banff to Lake Louise and ran the trail that leads you towards God’s Eyes. She hadn’t run this trail in years so it was really nice to do that with her. It was so much fun, and exhausting, running with my parents. It’s quite a sprint to where you need to go to get the full panoramic effect of the glorious Rockies.

I remember the moment we finally drove into Niagara-on-the-Lake. We pulled into the driveway at our new house. I was amazed how beautiful the Tudor-style house with a large, trim lawn looked. There was a car already in our driveway.

Whose car is that? I asked. The answer appeared within seconds: Uncle Georgy, Aunt Anna, and Vlad came out of our house to welcome us (I called him Vlad now, since he felt like a brother). They had balloons. Vlad was holding a few gifts. I jumped out of the car and hugged them, feeling tremendous joy.

Welcome to your new home, brother! said Vlad as he handed me a Pittsburgh Pirates jersey with a bow on it.

When am I going to wear this? I laughed as I tried on the jersey.

We’ll definitely be going to Pittsburgh for some games so you’ll need to dress appropriately.

Our classy, two-story house was something. It had attractive oak finishes and expansive views through large floor-to-ceiling windows. The double-door entrance showcased a stairway that wrapped around to the back to an upstairs entertainment hall. Downstairs, the hall led to a spacious living room and open-concept kitchen that included dark-stained hardwood floors, a marble surround fireplace, and ten-foot-high ceilings that offered views of Lake Ontario.

My dad was so excited about living in Niagara-on-the-Lake; it was his dream. I know he wanted to spend the rest of his days there. Although our home was spacious, it was not so overwhelming that you felt lost or tiny. It was perfect.

That evening, we all went over to The Olde Angel Inn for dinner. It’s an old, yellow, colonial house with an English style pub built in 1789. It’s located right off Queen Street, which is Main Street. It’s fun to drink in a place that’s been around for a few centuries. I was never a big drinker in Vancouver. I think a lot of that had to do with being at the shelter there. I met a lot of people who struggled with alcohol; they would always tell me to never abuse it or else it will consume your life. I got the message.

Before our food arrived, he looked at us all, told us how happy he was, and thanked Uncle Georgy for looking after The Purple Eclipse all those years. Although my dad had never thought about retirement, I think moving to Niagara, for him, was a lot like how people move to Florida when they retire. He just loved Niagara.

The next morning, my dad and I drove up to Toronto because he wanted to buy a new car. His dream vehicle was a black Rolls-Royce Wraith. Once in a while, we would see those cars in downtown Vancouver and he would marvel at their craftsmanship. Yeah, dad had good taste. Now, he loved cars. He worked on them my whole life as a hobby. We’d joke with him about how much money the people in our neighborhood saved by not going to a mechanic. They’d just pay for parts and my dad would help them if their car or truck was fixable.

It was definitely odd seeing my dad want to purchase a very expensive car, especially after all these years being so low key. I would have thought he would be content driving something less extravagant then a Rolls-Royce. He only made two purchases, which I know of, that cost him a lot: his new car and our house on the lake. He also helped me purchase my dream car the following year. My baby, a black Chevelle 427, big-block V8.

When we arrived at the Rolls-Royce dealership in Toronto, he couldn’t wait to get inside. He had