Grandmother’s fish
By Nicolai Staal
My mother always told me “If you ever feel upset about anything. Just go to old granny’s house. She is always up for a good laugh or a word of wisdom”. And there I was. Sitting in my old granny’s couch. It was tasteless just like any other piece of furniture in the room. Very colorful. I don’t think she ever said goodbye to the 60’s. It was nice though. Reminded me of my childhood. Back then this was like another home to me, but I stopped seeing her regularly, when she started getting odd after my grandfather died. He was usually the funny one. My grandmother took a liking to bubble wrap four years ago. She took it to an extent were she replaced her family with it. It was always about bubble wrap. My family as a whole wasn’t sad. She was just getting old that was all there was too it.
Granny entered the room. She was wearing her pajamas. It was green with different animals on it: Rhinos, pigeons, whales, mice etc. She had a tray with her, on it: coffee, sugar cubes and biscuits. “Before you tell me what troubles you. You have to tell me how the biscuits are. I made them me self” She handed me a little bowl with the biscuits as if I had asked her to hand it to me. I took one. “Thank you granny” I said and looked at the biscuit which was now in my hand. It had a smiling face on it made with dark chocolate. It was perfectly round. I took a bite and found that it tasted familiar. She didn’t make these biscuits herself. It was Digestives. She had just removed some of the chocolate on top, making it look like it was her own. A bit odd, but I didn’t comment it. “They are really good” I told her. She smiled and nodded “Thanks dear”. She took a sugar cube, which she dipped in the coffee letting the cube suck in some coffee just so she could eat the sugar cube coffee flavored. She is really getting old I thought to myself. “Now dear” she said and looked a bit more serious “tell me what is troubling you”. I took a little note out of my pocket. I wrote it two days before “This is the best way to express it” I told her and started reading out loud: Jeg kan ikke se for bare tåre i øjnene, og kan heller ikke klø eller gnide med alt det pis og lort jeg har på fingrene. Fandens til manglende sæbe ved håndvasken. Jeg sover af helvede til med fjedre der hjerner skødesløst op i min ryg og en prop i mit øre har efterhånden smadret mine sidste to uger uden planer om at stoppe. Krop og hoved skal være vertikalt synkroniseret. Ellers var vi jo forhelvede kun født med en af hver legemsdel. ”That was all” I told her. She shook her head like this was very serious”I didn’t understand any of it” she said. As a matter of fact I didn’t either it just came to me one night. She continued “but what I do understand is that you have a really big problem. We will have to use drastic methods”.
We walked into what we called the long room, it was where I used to sleep when I was just a boy. The room looked completely different from back then. I doubt there was anything like it. The walls were covered with fury blankets and the floor with clothes which was sown together. There was a sink that must have been installed since last I was in the room. The only furniture in the room was a bookshelf and a chair. The kind of chair you would be sitting in if seeing a psychiatrist. The bookshelf was empty except for one book. Bhagavad-Gita: As it is. The book was still wrapped in fabrication plastic. She had never read it. “When did you buy this book?” I asked her curiously and took it from the bookshelf. On the cover there were two men in a horse caret driven by three horses. They were both wearing funny hats, but one of them had a very shiny blue head and a lion by his side. It was a book of the Hindu. “I bought it two years ago. There was a very nice young man complimenting my hat.” She said “That cover has given me so much inspiration to how I should live my life. And with great success. I am happier than ever. I wouldn’t ruin that feeling by actually reading the book.” She lid up like a candle. I just smiled at her. She is happy then I am happy.
She walked through the room to where the sink was. “Come over her my dearest” she said without turning around and looking at me. It felt strange walking on the clothes, but in some way I thought it looked good. You know, it is strange but a very nice alternative to a regular carpet. I was now standing by her side. The sink was filled with fish. Like an aquarium. It was rainbow fish. All colors: blue, red, green etc. “I used to have a mirror above the sink and a chair just next to it. This was my safe spot. I filled the sink with water and stuck my toes into it. I could look myself in the mirror meanwhile. It gave me a tickling sensation in my stomach and ears. Now this is no longer a safe spot. It is my happy spot. These fish are very amusing.” She told me. I didn’t find the fish amusing. Half of them were dead, lying on the bottom of the sink.
“Why are you showing me this?” I asked my granny. “I remember seeing a unicorn in my dream” she answered and breathed in. She was about to tell me a story “the unicorn wasn’t happy. It was crying. It said that it didn’t feel special. It didn’t seem interesting to anyone of its kind. This is an old dream and it is a little blurred. But it started eating these little rainbow fish and all of a sudden it got a lot of attention. Almost unlimited attention. Not only by its own kind but attention from anything. The trees, the animals, the flowers even me who was dreaming. I woke up that morning and I was unsure whether this was a dream or not. It seemed so clear”. She wanted me to eat one of the fish. That was for sure. But was it attention I was after. I honestly didn’t know. But this was better than nothing. I didn’t come here only to see how my grandmother mistreated her fish. “Eat one dear” she whispered “I am sure this will help”. How bad could it be? “I am eating this fish because of a dream you had?” I asked. She nodded “yes. I am sure this will help”. She sounded so convincing, so honest. This had to help. The fish floundered in my hand. I closed my eyes and prepared myself.
I didn’t open my eyes. They were all closed. I put the fish in my mouth and on my tongue I could feel how it struggled to be freed from its destiny. Poor fish. I started chewing. It tasted exactly as expected: Not like skittles but more like a fish which hadn’t been prepared before serving. Exactly what it was. The bones, skin and guts where now completely crushed, split and mixed with spit. I swallowed. What an awful taste. I opened my eyes. My grandmother was smiling “Now it’s just a matter of time before you feel better”. I didn’t know what to say. She started laughing laud. “YOU ATE IT!” she shouted. She continued laughing slamming her knees just before she feel over in laughter. She continued on the floor. The floor filled with clothes. She was rolling around laughing “YOU SERIUSLY ATE IT!”. I felt dizzy. I did eat it.
