THE GOLD FISH: Gifts (3.14)

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Word about Barbie and Donna’s fight spread like wildfire through Loch Raven Junior High, and by the time Barbie climbed aboard the bus headed for home, she could no longer ignore the stares and hushed whispers around her. She’d never been so self-conscious in her life.

But more than that, she was rattled. Even though she had been the one to initiate the fight, the whole thing had been so shocking and so unexpected that it had taken until 7th period for her heart to stop racing. Surely what Pickles had said about Wesley was a big fat lie, so why had she gone so berserk? She felt as if she’d had a demon inside of her, a demon that had been waiting -- growing hotter and redder and stronger with each passing week -- and when Pickles had said that awful thing about Wesley, it had finally burst out of her. It was kind of horrifying, actually.

The strange thing was she barely remembered the fight itself. It was all a blur. If other people hadn’t told her and retold the story all afternoon -- you flung Pickles through the air, you punched her in the nose, you punched her in the eye -- she wouldn’t have believed it. Couldn’t have even described it.

So it was with great relief when the bus let her off at the corner and she started to trudge the few blocks home. Finally, she thought, some peace. All she wanted to do was grab The Hobbit, get into bed with it, and disappear into Middle Earth.

But as she entered the house, an uncharacteristic buzz of voices emanating from the kitchen stopped her cold.

Was that Pop’s gruff voice? And the distinctive giggle of her cousin, Joey? Oh God, she thought, not now. What the heck was going on?

Barbie threw her tapestry bag down on the couch, plastered a fake smile on her face, and went to find out.

The chatter stopped the minute Barbie entered the kitchen.

Her mother, father, grandfather, and cousin all turned to her with blank expressions. Even the Belle, who sat on her mother’s lap, thumb plugged firmly into her mouth, stared unblinking with big, gray eyes.

Uh oh, thought Barbie. Had the school called? Was she in trouble? Did she need to go work on Pop’s boat as punishment? She knew for a fact the boat was out of the water for the winter, which was usually when Pop scraped barnacles off the hull. It was a horrible job -- the worst job -- and not one he’d ever made her do. But as punishment for beating someone up at school, it was fair enough, she had to admit. But if so, why drag Joey into it? Unless, he too had done something evil that day? Which, knowing her cousin, wasn’t just possible, it was probable.

But Joey didn’t look mad, or even sad. And scraping barnacles in the cold would definitely have annoyed the hell out of him.

None of this made sense!

Finally, into the uncomfortable silence, Pop spoke first. “Hiya, stuff.”

“Hey Pop,” said Barbie.

“Hey Barbie,” erupted Joey, shooting her his gap toothed smile.

“Hi Joey,” she answered. “Um, what are you guys doing here?”

“What?” said Pop. “Can’t your much admired grandfather and ornery devil of a cousin come by just to say hello? Do we need a special reason?”

Barbie’s eyebrows furrowed. “I guess not.”

“Oh for godssake,” said Joan impatiently. “Cut to the chase, Dad. Just give it to her!”

Give it to me?, wondered Barbie. Was Pop going to pop her one? Right in the kisser?!

But Pop just grinned and from under the table, he pulled a newspaper wrapped bundle and handed it to her.

“What’s this?” said Barbie, taking the package from her grandfather. It was a strange shape and kinda heavy.

“Just something I found in the trash,” said Joan, shifting the Belle in her lap so she could take a drag off her cigarette.

At this point, Joey was bouncing in his seat uncontrollably. “Open it! Open it!”

Barbie set the package down on the table, peeled back a section of the newsprint, and gasped.

Within the wrapping, its golden scales gleaming, was her gold (pause) fish. Perfectly stuffed and mounted.

“Oh my God,” breathed Barbie, peeling the rest of the wrapping away.

The fish was mounted on a polished oval of wood, and seemed to be caught, mid-leap, its fishy mouth slightly open, as if equally surprised to be there.

Barbie’s voice caught in her throat. “But how? Why?”

Joan shrugged. “It seemed to mean a lot to you. Why, I have no idea, but to each his own, I guess.” She waved her cigarette in Don’s direction. “Apparently, the football was good to Jesse James over there.”

Don smiled and winked. “Love you, Boo-boo.”

“And…” Joan continued, pointing at her father, “Captain Ahab knew where to take it. So…”

“Most surprising call of my life,” said Pop. “Nearly fell off my chair.”

Joey snorted. “Me too!” he piped. “But that’s the magic of the rabbit’s foot! I told ya!”

Barbie gazed at the fish in wonder, fat tears dropping down on her tattered sweater.

“Do you like it?” asked Don.

Barbie couldn’t speak. It was just too overwhelming. This entire day. She had so many feelings, she thought she might burst.

Instead, she shook her head from side to side before burying her face in her hands.

“Didn’t quite expect that reaction,” said Pop dryly.

“Jesus Christ Almighty!” burst Joan. “See, that’s what I get for trying—”

“No!” said Barbie, her hands flying from her face. “No! I love it. I really love it. Thank you.” She looked around at all the faces turned to her so affectionately and sobbed again. “Thank you. All of you. It’s the best surprise ever. And I know just what I’m going to do with it.”

“Well,” said Pop, standing and hitching up his pants. “Much as I enjoy these touching domestic scenes, I think I’ll be off. C’mon Joey. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

Barbie did know what she was going to do with the fish.

She was going to give it to Bridge.

After all, the fish was magic, wasn’t it? How else could it have come into her life? Why else had it come into her life? Hadn’t it delighted her? Thrilled her? Inspired her? To start embroidering? To start an actual business? Which, okay, hadn’t lasted. But while it did, she’d made a lot of money. More money than she ever could have imagined. But that was the least of it. She’d also had so much fun, learned new skills, and made new friends. She’d even won over Bev, for godssake!

But maybe, just maybe, her precious gold (pause) fish had enough magic left in it to do one last thing. Maybe it could help make things right with Bridge.

It might be stupid. Might be silly to think so. But if Barbie had learned anything in the last few months, it was that a thought could become a thing. If you thought hard enough.

The proof was right in front of her.

Mr. Charles had said to her that things don’t always end up like you planned, like you hoped. But if you tried, sometimes something else happened, something wonderful, something completely unexpected. And that thing might be even better and more important than what you had originally imagined.

And as Barbie had looked around the kitchen table that afternoon and saw, for the first time in a long time, her family actually looking back at her, in a way that said “you matter,” she knew exactly what he’d meant.

Okay, Karen hadn’t been there, and if she had, she would surely have called her a “total weirdo” for wanting a fish, but that was just Karen being Karen, right? After all, hadn’t her big sister also sung “Sons of God” to her after their parents’ last fight? That was something too.

So Barbie gave the fish a kiss, tucked it back into its newspaper wrapping, and Scotch-taped a note to Bridge on top of it.

And later that night, when everyone had gone to bed, Barbie eased open the front door, raced across Pitney Road in her fuzzy slippers, and tucked the bundle between the Sullivan’s screen door and front door.

Then raced back to her house and bed, where she slept the most untroubled sleep she’d slept in a very long time.

Next → Finding the Air (3.15)