A Fishy Story Indeed

This is something I wrote a while ago for a writing challenge. The theme was "What is character?"
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Character is what you are when no one is looking. It’s also what you are when it’s late and you just want to go to bed.

Several days ago, we picked up a 10-gallon fish tank. It was free and the ad read,

“Includes fish! Plus: tank, gravel, filters, heater, even a cute little thermometer. Fish are a catfish, a hiding shark-like thing, an eel-type thing (a loach?), and several orange striped fish...”

To transport the tank, we unloaded the tank water into various buckets while netting the fish into self-closing bags. But we couldn’t find the hiding shark-like thing. We drained some more water and re-searched the tank. Nothing. So we loaded up and brought the whole kit home.

It was late when I started reassembling the tank, but by eleven o’clock, I had almost finished. As my last task for the night I was standing at the sink, scrubbing a seashell when – PLOP - something slimy drops into my hand! I yelp, it slips through my fingers and my brain registers "shark-like thing?” just as it slides into the garbage disposal! Now what do I do? Do I look for it or do I run the disposal so it doesn't suffer?

But I’ve been told some amazing stories about fish survival so I leap into action. I can’t see into the disposal properly, so I start running around the house – I CAN’T FIND THE FLASHLIGHT!! Instead, I grab a decorative lamp shaped like Noah's Ark and pull the shade off of the 7w bulb.

Now how to reach the fish? After several faulty attempts, I grab a pair of aluminum tongs (the kind you see in salad bars) and start hunting. My progress is slow and every time I spot the fish and gingerly try to pick it up, it promptly panics and thrashes out of sight among the remains of a nice Alfredo casserole. At this point, I'm talking to the fish, sounding like a bad ER movie ("Stay with me now, we're gonna make it buddy"). And still at the back of my mind is the execution switch - just run the disposal and it will all be over and you won't even have to tell the kids.

But I can't do that. Where there's life, there's hope, right? I have to remove the fish’s hiding places. I grab some peas, some pasta, a piece of tomato, spinach, some more peas...and there’s the fish lying in the sink among the peas! Before he can slip away again, I scoop him into a spoon and whisk him over to the fish tank. Heart hammering, I hesitate a moment - Do I float him first? What about the temperature shock? Duh - he can't breath! - and in he goes.

The fish was in the drain for at least twenty minutes. But he is doing fine...except for a tendency to hide under a shell every time I come near the tank. Apparently he thinks I’m a suspicious character.


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Incidentally, it won the challenge. But the fish didn't seem impressed...