Aquarium

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I didn’t know whether I would find the old man. As I approached the aquarium, I slowed down, despite the rain, because I was afraid I’d never see him again. The aquarium would be far too lonely now without him. Pier 59 only a building projecting out into the sea, another drab shape in the gray. The rain very cold, close to becoming snow. Day without light, the air hung in dark sheets and columns that swept in over the water.

He was waiting in the first corridor, sitting slumped in a dark blue sweater, his hair rising up in thin fans, wild faint sprays from having worn a hat. Dark form of him otherwise camouflaged, head speckled.

Caitlin, he said, and rose. I’m very sorry. Will you forgive an old man for his weakness?

Hi, I said.

Hi. What fish would you like to see today?

Um. I looked around, worlds within worlds all within reach. I was so happy he was still here, that he hadn’t left forever. The razorfish, I said. I was thinking of the razorfish yesterday, at the movie theater. I went to a movie with my mom.

What movie?

I don’t know.

You don’t know?

I wasn’t watching it.

Oh.

We walked then to a large tank of coral and tropical fish. The razorfish hung like tinsel, as if they knew Christmas was coming and wanted to help.

Poor buggers, the old man said. They think that’s normal. And how do they get anywhere? If they swam forward, they’d stick in the bottom.

I’ve only seen them hang like that.

Well they’re going to have to come up with something more.

My mother isn’t doing overtime.

No? She was doing overtime?

Yeah.

Why?

So we could get ahead.

Hm.

But Inspector Bigby wanted to know where my parent or guardian was.

Inspector Bigby.

Yeah. I was afraid of him.

So that’s why you were upset.

Yeah.

I’m sorry, Caitlin. I should have helped you more. And your mother’s all alone, no family. I think I could try to help. I think I could do that. I had a long night. I’d like to stop being of no use to anyone. Do you think I could meet your mother? Do you think you could tell her about me?

The old man looked desperate, pleading with me. It was very strange. I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t understand the possibilities. So I agreed. Okay, I said. Today?

No. The old man looked worried. He ran his hand through his hair, flattening the ruff. Maybe Monday. Let’s do Monday. You can have the weekend to talk with her. Tell her all that we’ve done, looking at all the fish, all we’ve talked about. Have you told her anything about me?

No.

Nothing, huh? Well, that’s too bad. That’s very fast. But Monday. We’ll do Monday.

She’ll be here today.

No. Please. Let’s wait a bit. And we can stop talking about this. Let’s just walk around the aquarium. Have you seen the leafy seadragon?

Yeah. Of course. Everyone has seen the leafy seadragon.

Well, okay, but let’s go look at him again.

The old man took my hand and we walked to the seadragon tank. Sand light blue, hairy green plants, and a sea horse become a golden branch, sprouting leaves that might have been wings. If you looked at her long enough, you could imagine trees coming alive, entire forests waking up and drifting across the land, speaking in whispers. No trunk vertical but all gone horizontal, moving along on their branches, roots hung in the air. I wanted to live in that world.

I’ve been watching this fish every day now, the old man said. A fish that lives only to hide. The other fish are hiding, too, but this one has gone too far. He’s become unrecognizable, all twisted up like a branch, barely able to swim, fins useless. There has to be more than just hiding.

The old man sounded bitter. I’m disgusted by this fish, he said.

I looked at those bars of gold that somehow had become a body, and I couldn’t imagine a more beautiful fish, even the ghost pipefish. What if a tree could grow into the shape of a salmon, or a field of grass grow like trout, mouths gasping toward the sun? Even now, I still believe metamorphosis is the greatest beauty. Snakes have adapted their coloring, birds their beaks and legs, and even a mountain goat can vanish with white hair, but only fish and insects can take another form. A praying mantis to match this seadragon, but so much less ornate. Fish can become corollary to anything, unlimited, not held to any base, able to transform beyond imagination. We’re still finding new shapes in the ocean.

I’m not going to be this fish, the old man said. I refuse.

How could you be this fish?

Stunted as a person, kinked like that, choked, cowardly, hiding, always disappearing, like when I ran away yesterday.

The old man faced me then, got down on his knees, which looked painful. He took my hands in his. Damp cool skin, rough. Look, he said. You’re just starting out. You have a long life ahead. I have only a little bit left. Other men are going to get down on their knees for you, offering you their lives, but what I’m offering is more. The end of a life is more, and my reasons are more pure. I love you more than any other man ever will.

I tried to pull my hands away, but he held on.

It’s going to be tough times. Confusing for you. You won’t be happy. But just remember that I love you and that I’ll do anything for you now.

I was afraid of him. He wouldn’t let go of my hands.

Please, he said. No. Don’t misunderstand. Just tell your mother about me, and I’ll meet her on Monday. Okay?

I nodded. My heart going so fast I thought it would never slow down again.

Okay, he said. You’re the best little girl in the world, Caitlin. He let go then, and I turned and ran away down those dark corridors rimmed in light, all the fish watching, and didn’t stop until I was in the lobby. I sat on a bench by the door, out of breath, and I wanted my mother to rescue me. It wasn’t time yet, and I was afraid the old man would come out here. I had nowhere to hide, and it was too cold outside, icy rain a roar against all other sound.