Coastal City: The Dream Fish Part II

White fish different colours in dark after being put in freshwater

Nothing seemed to work; he didn’t get any right hits from Google.

Such a fine specimen was Nathan’s new pet; the side lightened by Nathan’s monitor remained white while the other side flaunted its colours. It was swimming very quickly, around and around. Then suddenly—plop! Droplets of water created tiny prisms on Nathan’s keys whose letters have been erased by his constant typing.

“Prie!” he called and he bent over to grasp his pet’s albino scales and put it back into its bowl.

The fish stirred, stammered, slid and bit Nathan’s hand before it dropped into the cold fresh water. Crimson dew emerged from Nathan’s flesh, as part of Nathan’s wrist had disappeared into Prie’s stomach.

“Damn. Damn. Damn,” he rushed to his bathroom and let the water flow from the faucet and over his hand.

…

Later that night, Nathan snuck out and went back to the carnival. It was already past midnight, and almost all of the lights were out. He went to the same place his cotton candy had melted, and it didn’t take him very long to get there despite the darkness.

On the same bench where he had waited that day sat a girl, who wore a silk white hat with a yellow ribbon band (such a thing to wear past midnight!). She was playing with the ruffles of her dress when Nathan had arrived, with her legs stretched straight across the bench. Her yellow shoes seemed to glitter as the moonlight emphasised.

“What took you so long?” asked the girl.

“I had to feed my fish,” answered Nathan. He raised the girl’s legs and occupied the space where they’ve been. He traced the embellishments on her thin long socks; he didn’t even notice she was wearing socks when he came, for they blended with her skin.

They conversed, every time Nathan would glance at her, she would look away or pull her hat further down to her face. But he enjoyed their talk, he was happy.

Across the sky drew a beam, a brief-living light that caressed all those lost, all the fish in the water, Nathan’s shark, those who lay in their beds dreaming of a better tomorrow, those who sat on benches at night wearing hats and those who got their wrist bitten by their seemingly harmless pet fish.

“Make a wish,” said the girl.

“I wish I knew your name.”

The girl seemed smitten by Nathan’s wish. She craned her head towards Nathan, and carefully, steadily, she started removing her hat.

“Nathan! Get up already! Halvar’s here!” his mother’s voice echoed, such an irritating sound it was, filling the room.

Nathan buried his head further into his pillow, hoping that he’d get back to sleep and witness the girl without her hat as the continuation.

And suddenly someone pulled on Nathan’s feet, making him fall off his bed.

“What the hell! You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“We’re going surfing today, remember?” Halvar chuckled. “Put a shirt on!”

“Well, excuse me for not being all groomed up waking up, sir.”

Nathan stood up and went for his shirt that was dangling on his dresser’s knob.

“You’re not gonna fix yourself? You’re not even going to take a shower? Isn’t that the same shirt you wore yesterday?” asked Halvar, and he curled his eyebrows.

“What, do you want me to wear a tux to the beach? And no, it’s a plain white shirt; I could give you a dozen of these.”

“Whatever. Let’s go, twinkle.”

“Twinkle.” Nathan ran his hand through his hair and pulled it a bit.

They were on their way when Halvar slipped; his foot opened up like a mouth, taking in whatever virus there was in the cold, wet floor. His blood spewed all over Nathan’s things, it was more like dying the things and not staining them.

“I accidentally stepped on that fish of yours and it cut deep into my foot?” said Halvar, he had lost consciousness.

“I guess.”

“Flush the demon, it’s dead.”

Prie lay flat on the floor and the water near him had been tinted red by Halvar’s blood. Nathan, thinking the fish was dead, took it by its tail and dropped it into his toilet. To his surprise, the fish stirred as soon as it hit the water.

To be continued… again.