Hello, we’re the Fishes. Welcome to our ambivalent home. Ha. One of our little jokes, meant to make you more comfortable. Okay. Let’s start in Michael’s room. This mobile with the origami fishes has hung over Michael’s dresser since before he was born. The big blue fish represents the daddy, Mister Fish. Here’s Missus Fish, the yellow one. Sister Fish. Other Sister Fish. And Michael, currently purple. Right, well, it’s been painted over. He takes it down and adds more colors and ties it back in place, so it hangs lower now. The whole thing’s lost its balance. We tried to fix it once, but that was a mistake, wasn’t it, Michael? No, he’ll be all right. That’s just what he likes to do. He’s nervous that you’re in his room. Want your headphones, Michael? Each dresser drawer contains just one type—please, don’t move that. And the drawings indicate what type of garment—A metaphor for what? Oh, the mobile, of course. You’re still on that? Yes, very apt. Of course you can use that. Why, did you come for metaphor? There are real problems, you know. Government funding for research, ADA compliance issues, what the hell happens when Michael ages out of school . . . . Sorry. It’s been a long morning, a lifetime of long mornings. Write this down. At age two, something kidnapped our son. It dropped a hook into our family and pulled him flapping from the water. We’d suffocate where he is, a place we can’t reach, and he can’t breathe what we breathe any more. You understand? We live in hope of catching glimpses of him, and when they happen, we wish they hadn’t. So now we try to understand the air. So. You can stay? You need to see lunchtime.
Copyright © March 18, 2007 David Hodges
Very Short Novels 
6 comments
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March 18, 2007 at 12:34 pm
domestika
This is deeply unsettling, David. Well done.
Thank you, domestika. I hope it begins to express the anguish and courage of the families.
–David
March 18, 2007 at 5:28 pm
litlove
Extremely moving and beautifully done.
Thank you, Litlove.
–David
March 19, 2007 at 6:28 am
Wizzer
David, this really touched me. I have a son with some “difficulties” different to your story but…
Either you have direct experience or you are “even more” in tune with the world than I previously thought!
Life with a child with some complications is hard, real hard BUT with the challenges come some beautiful moments and some very real self discovery. You’ve managed to encapsulate so much in so few words.
Thank you, Wizzer. I know those beautiful moments, too, from family experience. My heart goes out to all, always, but particularly to those who show such courage in coping with difference. Thank you so much for your comment.
–David
March 19, 2007 at 8:09 am
verbivore
The honesty of “We’d suffocate where he is, a place we can’t reach, and he can’t breathe what we breathe any more,” after the narrator’s earlier breathless bravado is just perfect.
Thank you, verbivore. You may be a better reader than I am a writer, but I thank you for giving me so much credit.
–David
March 19, 2007 at 5:44 pm
Larry Keiler
Ohmigod, I think I see Kafka up there!
I appreciate your visit and comment, Larry. Any similarity to other authors, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
–David
March 19, 2007 at 9:12 pm
kimtelas
Seeking metaphors, hunting for the image.
Singularity is never in shortage.
Thank you for the touch.
Oh my.
Truly to the bone.
Thank you David.
Kim
You are so welcome, Kim.
–David