Daddy said, “The fish are your responsibility now. Aren’t there a couple of things you need to do?”
“Feed them,” said Andrew.
“Put the lid on the tank so Boo-Boo won’t get them,” I said. “Also, I better read the book about caring for fish.”
“Good,” said Daddy. “I’ll leave you alone now.”
Andrew fed the fish. He put the lid on the tank.
I settled down with the book. After I’d been reading for awhile, I said to my brother, “You know? Fish aren’t as easy to take care of as I thought they would be. We will have to check the thermometer all the time to make sure the water isn’t too hot or too cold for the fish. We will have to make sure the water doesn’t have any bad chemicals in it. We have to keep the plants alive, we have to be sure the pump and the filter are working, and we cannot overfeed the fish. Boy, I sure hope David Michael can handle this. I hope he understands everything. I am going to make him read the fish book.” And, I thought, the only thing Andrew will be able to do is feed the fish. The other things are too hard for him.
* * *
Late that afternoon, Andrew and I stood in front of the aquarium. With the light on, the fish looked even more brilliant than they had in the store.
“We better name our fish,” I said to Andrew. “Every pet needs a name.”
Andrew nodded. “Mine is named Goldfishie.”
I thought and thought and thought. Should I give my fish a person’s name? A funny name? No. My fish needed a beautiful name. So I decided it was a girl. I called her Crystal Light.
* * *
On Sunday, about half an hour before Mommy and Seth would come to pick up Andrew and me, I had a talk with David Michael.
“Taking care of fish is hard work,” I told him.
David Michael nodded seriously.
“You have to keep the equipment going, and you have to make sure the water temperature is always right.”
“Okay.”
“Now here’s the fish book. Make sure you read the whole thing,” I said bossily.
“Yes, teacher,” replied David Michael, smiling. Then he went on, “You know I’m going to take good care of Goldfishie and Crystal Light. I’m older than you are, and — ”
“Only a few months older.”
From outside came the sound of Mommy’s car honking.
“Karen!” shouted Andrew. “Mommy and Seth are here! Come downstairs.”
“Don’t you want to say good-bye to Goldfishie first? I want to say good-bye to Crystal Light.”
So Andrew and I kissed the side of the aquarium. “Good-bye!” we said. We would not see our new pets for two weeks.
Crystal Light, My Delight
One afternoon, I was supposed to be doing homework. But I could not. I was daydreaming. I was thinking about my fish.
“Crystal Light, my delight. Crystal Light, my delight,” I sang over and over.
And then I got up to do what I’d done several times since I’d come back to the little house. I went into Mommy’s room. I dialed the phone.
“Hello?” said Charlie on the other end of the line.
“Hello. It’s me, Karen.”
“You’re not calling about the fish again, are you?”
“Well, yes,” I admitted.
“Karen, they’re just fine. They were fine when you called this morning. They were fine when you called both times yesterday. They were fine when you called both times the day before that. David Michael is taking very good care of Goldfishie and Crystal Light.”
I sighed. “I just wish I could see them myself.”
Charlie did not say anything.
So I had to ask, “Charlie? Do you think you could drive me over to Daddy’s so I could see Crystal Light? I really miss her.”
It was Charlie’s turn to sigh. “Oh, Karen …”
“Please? Just drive the Junk Bucket over.” (That’s what we call Charlie’s car, which is a used car.) “Then pick me up and take me back to Daddy’s. I want to see Crystal Light. I’ll only stay a minute. Well, a few minutes. I just want to make sure that Crystal Light really is okay.”
“All right,” said Charlie. “Let me talk to your mom first, though.”
So Charlie talked to Mommy. And soon I was sitting next to him in his car. When we reached the big house, I thanked Charlie. Then I raced inside, and upstairs to the playroom. For a moment, I just stood in the doorway with my eyes closed. When I opened them … there was the aquarium on its table. The light was on. The filter was on. I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Hi, Crystal Light!” I called.
I ran across the room and kissed the side of the aquarium.
Crystal Light was swimming around happily. She was waving her tail in the water. Back and forth, back and forth went the fin with the black spot.
Goldfishie looked fine, too. He was swimming in and out of the castle.
I heard a noise then and realized that David Michael was standing next to me. He was looking at the aquarium, too. Then he looked at me.
I knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to say, “See? I told you I could take good care of your fish.”
I did not let him say that. I said it for him.
“You took good care of our fish after all. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” replied David Michael. “I like to take care of them. Especially when I can pretend they’re mine.”
Not much later, Charlie drove me back to the little house in the Junk Bucket. When I got inside, I ran to find Andrew.
“Guess what!” I cried.
“What?” asked Andrew. (He was watching Sesame Street.)
“Crystal Light and Goldfishie are fine. I saw them myself. David Michael is taking good care of them. They look very happy.”
Andrew smiled. “Good,” he said. “When can I see them?”
“The next time we go to the big house,” I replied.
“Yea!” cried Andrew.
The Saddest Thing
Finally there were just two days left before Andrew and I would go to the big house. Two more days until we could see Crystal Light and Goldfishie again.
I made up a new song. It did not exactly rhyme, but I think that is okay. This was my song: Two more days, two more nights. Then I’ll see … my delight!
On Wednesday, good things happened in school. Ricky Torres (we are sort of married) gave me some candy at lunchtime. During gym I walked from one end of the balance beam to the other — without falling off! And Hannie Papadakis asked if Nancy and I wanted to go to a petting zoo with her family one day soon.
So I was in a good mood when I came home from school on Wednesday. I was in such a good mood that instead of playing at Nancy’s that afternoon, I asked Andrew if he wanted to play with me. He was looking lonely.
But when I said I would help him learn a new magic trick, he looked very happy. (Andrew loves magic. He has a box of tricks. But since he cannot read yet, he does not know how to make most of the tricks work. I have to help him with the instructions.)
I was just about to show Andrew how to make a penny disappear, when the phone rang. I leaped up from the floor.
“I’ll get it!” I screamed.
“Indoor voice, Karen,” Mommy reminded me.
“Okay,” I said as I picked up the phone.
Guess who was calling. Daddy!
But he said, “Karen, I have some very bad news for you. David Michael just called me here at work. He said that Crystal Light died today.”
“Nooo!” I howled. “How did that happen?”
“We’re not sure. David Michael was taking good care of the fish. But when he came home from school today, Crystal Light was floating at the top of the tank.”
“That is not fair!” I began to cry. “I want to see Crystal Light. David Michael didn’t flush her already, did he?”
“No,” said Daddy. “He put her in a little box. It’s up to you to decide what to do with your fish.” I just sniffled and didn’t say anything. So Da
ddy went on, “Let me talk to Mommy, okay?”
“Okay,” I said.
Mommy and Daddy talked for a few minutes. Then they got off the phone. Mommy led me into the living room. She hugged me for a long time. When I was not crying so much anymore, she said, “Your father is on his way over here. He will take you to see Crystal Light.”
I nodded. But I could not talk.
Soon Daddy rang our doorbell. I walked slowly to the car with him. As we drove along, I stopped crying.
Daddy glanced at me.
“It’s not fair!” I said again. “Goldfishie is still alive and Crystal Light is dead. Andrew has a pet at the big house, and I don’t.”
I began to feel angry. I was angry at David Michael. How could he have let Crystal Light die? Why hadn’t he taken better care of my fish? I told him and told him about the fish and their tank.
I guess he did not pay enough attention.
I sat silently until Daddy pulled into the driveway of the big house.
“Karen?” he said. Are you all right?”
I nodded slowly. “It’s just that when someone or something dies, it’s the saddest thing.”
Daddy stroked my hair. “Let’s go inside,” he said.
Fish-Killer!
I got out of the car. I ran ahead of Daddy. I beat him to the front door of the big house. I let myself inside. Then I raced upstairs. I didn’t stop running until I was in the playroom, standing in front of the fish tank.
In the tank was Goldfishie. He swam around and around.
All by himself.
At least he was alive.
I examined the aquarium and the water. Everything looked okay. Everything was hooked up and working.
I could not figure out how David Michael had killed Crystal Light.
After I finished looking at Goldfishie, I looked at the table the tank was sitting on. I saw a small, white box. It was made of cardboard. It was the kind of box jewelry comes in — but now it was Crystal Light’s coffin.
I did not want to look inside the box. I knew I had to, though. So I lifted the lid. Crystal Light lay on her side on the little bed of cotton. At first I started to cry again, but then I noticed something. Crystal Light was very still. But she did not look sick or hurt.
“Maybe she’s just taking a nap.”
I did not even realize I had said that out loud until I heard Daddy say softly, “Karen …”
I turned around. Daddy and David Michael were watching me. I did not care. I lifted Crystal Light out of the box. Then I placed her very carefully in the tank.
”Karen,” said Daddy again. “Crystal Light won’t swim. She’s dead, honey.”
“No she isn’t.” I watched my fish for a long time. She just bobbed on top of the water. Then I knew that Daddy was right.
Crystal Light really was dead.
So I scooped her up and put her back in her coffin. Then I yelled, “David Michael, this is your fault!”
“No, it isn’t,” he cried.
“Yes, it is. You did something wrong. You didn’t take good care of Crystal Light. You know what you are? You are a fish-killer!”
“All right, Karen,” said Daddy. “That’s enough. Time to go home.”
I let Daddy drive me home. But I did not apologize to David Michael.
Back at the little house, Andrew said, “I’m sorry Crystal Light died.”
“Thanks.”
“Want to play checkers?”
“Checkers? No, I do not want to play checkers. How could you — ”
“Karen!” exclaimed Mommy. “Andrew was just trying to be nice.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled. But Andrew was already crying.
I did not feel too sorry for him, though. He still had Goldfishie. Crystal Light was gone forever.
I began to cry, too.
That night, Andrew and I could not eat dinner. Andrew said he wasn’t hungry. And I could not stop crying.
All evening, I moped around my room. I did not do my homework. I kept looking at Emily Junior in her cage. “I hope you’re not going to die, too,” I told her.
“Karen! Andrew! Bedtime!” called Mommy just then.
“Okay,” I replied. I lay down on my bed, even though I was still dressed. I fell asleep. Mommy found me later. She took off my shoes and pulled the covers over me.
I never felt a thing.
When I woke up, I thought of Crystal Light right away.
Karen the Sad
I felt happy.
Crystal Light was alive after all! It was hard to believe, but then, so are lots of things. Like how the TV works. Daddy had phoned Mommy and he had said, “Karen was right all along. We put Crystal Light in the tank again and she began swimming! She joined all the other fish.”
All what other fish? I wondered.
That was when I realized that I had been dreaming. Crystal Light was still dead. I began to cry again.
I looked at my clock. It read 12:04. At least, I think it did. It was hard to tell. My tears made the numbers all blurry.
* * *
When I woke up the next morning, I felt awful. My eyes were scratchy, like sand was in them. And I was tired. I had woken up about six times between 12:04 and morning.
Oh, well. I knew I had to go to school. So I took off the clothes I had slept in. Then I looked in my closet. I pulled out the black velvet dress that is for special occasions. I put it on. Then I pulled on black tights and buckled on my black Mary Jane shoes. I tied a black ribbon in my hair.
Black is what people sometimes wear when they are sad that someone has died. (That is called being in mourning.)
Well, I was very sad about Crystal Light.
At breakfast, Seth said, “Good morning, Karen. Toast or cereal?”
“Neither,” I said. I slumped into my seat. “I cannot eat a thing.”
“Nothing?” asked Seth.
“Well, maybe some orange juice. I am in mourning.”
Mrs. Dawes drove Nancy and me to school. Usually I talk a lot when we ride in the car. But that day I did not say anything. When we reached Stoneybrook Academy, Mrs. Dawes said, “Is something wrong, Karen?”
“My fish is dead,” I told her. “My brother killed her. I am in mourning.”
“Andrew killed Crystal Light?” shrieked Nancy.
“No. David Michael did. I’m not sure how, but he did it. Crystal Light died sometime yesterday.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Mrs. Dawes as Nancy and I got out of the car. “I hope you feel better soon.”
“Thank you,” I answered in a small, sad voice.
Nancy started to run into school. I walked behind her very slowly.
“Come on, Karen!” called Nancy.
“I can’t run,” I told her. “I’m in mourning.”
Finally we reached our classroom. (Nancy walked slowly with me.) The first person we saw was Hannie Papadakis.
“Karen!” exclaimed Hannie. “Why are you dressed like that?”
“Because David Michael killed Crystal Light yesterday. I’m in mourning.”
“Oooh,” said Hannie. “I’m sorry…. Karen, are you crying?”
I shook my head, even though I was starting to cry a little.
Hannie looked very concerned. “It’ll be all right,” she told me.
By the time Ms. Colman came into our room, practically everyone knew about Crystal Light. They felt very, very sorry for me. Even Pamela and Jannie and Leslie, who are my enemies.
“Your brother killed your fish?” cried Pamela. “That is just awful. How could anyone kill a helpless little fish? I’m sorry, Karen.”
A Funeral for Crystal Light
All that day I sat silently in my black clothes. I did not eat lunch. At recess, I sat on a rock and watched my friends play games.
The next day, I decided that I was still in mourning. So I put on the same black dress, the same black tights, and the same black shoes. I made one change, though. I did not put the black ribbon in my hair. Instead, I
put on an old hat of Mommy’s. I found it in our dress-up box. It was black velvet (which was good because it matched my dress). And it had a veil. I wore the hat with the veil covering my forehead and my eyes.
When I got to school that day, only Hannie and Nancy and Ricky (my husband) asked how I was feeling. Nobody else paid any attention. Except for Pamela. She said, “Nice hat, Karen.” Then she and Jannie and Leslie began to giggle. I guess they were through feeling sorry for me.
Even my best friends seemed to have forgotten about me by recess. They did not notice when I sank down on the rock again. They did not ask me to play hopscotch or dodgeball. So I just sat with my head on my hands.
I am a very good moper.
Especially when I am in mourning.
It was while I was sitting on the rock, moping and mourning, that I got my idea. See, I was remembering another pet that had died. It was David Michael’s collie, Louie. (David Michael got Shannon after Louie died.) Anyway, David Michael was very upset after Louie died. So we held a funeral for Louie. We held it in our backyard. We played a song and everyone in my big-house family said something nice about Louie. We even made a cross for him. Then we buried his food dishes and his leash.
David Michael felt better after the funeral. (I guess we all did.) So now I wondered, Would a funeral for Crystal Light make me feel better?
Yes, I decided. At least planning it would make me feel better. I could stop thinking about my brother the fish-killer. Instead, I could think about the funeral.
Let’s see. We would hold the funeral in the backyard at the big house. We would hold it tomorrow, Saturday, when Andrew and I were staying at Daddy’s. We could have music and maybe we could sing a song. Then we would bury Crystal Light in her little white coffin.
By the end of school that day, I had decided that the funeral would begin at two o’clock. I invited all of my classmates to it, even Pamela and her friends. A lot of kids said they would come. Already I felt better.
The Fight
It was another Friday night at Daddy’s house. I kept thinking about the last one. At the last Friday dinner, Andrew and I did not have a big-house pet yet. We had not even asked if we could get one. Now it was just two weeks later. Andrew had a pet. But my pet had already lived and died. (Fish-killer.) So I was still dressed in black, including the hat with the veil.