Tone Deaf
by Brian
genre:
Literature & Fiction
description:
Originally published at Somewhat.org
chapters
chapter 1:
Tone Deaf
Tone Deaf
chapter 1
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updated 09/28/07
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3113 characters
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0 people liked it
Milo got a fish for his thirteenth birthday.
He’d asked for a football. The kind with Terry Bradshaw’s signature seared into the leather just below the laces.
But he got a fish.
“Not just any fish,” his father said. “It’s a very special fish.”
Milo’s father was a small man with a wild head of bushy hair. When he got excited, he had a habit of spitting when he talked. He got excited a lot. Milo suspected this is one of the reasons that Milo’s mother left. Milo’s father also had a habit of wearing cardigan sweaters. This is the other reason his mother left.
The fish was about a foot long. It was white with gold splotches. Or gold with white splotches, depending on how you looked at it. It floated in a cheap glass aquarium that was barely larger that it was.
Milo stared at the fish. The fish stared back. Milo watched the fish’s mouth make a perfect little “O” as it opened and closed.
“It’s a koi,” Milo’s father explained.
“What’s a koi?” Milo said.
“This fish, of course. What else are we talking about here?”
“I mean, what’s a koi in general?”
“A koi is a special kind of carp that comes from Japan.”
“So this fish is special because it comes from Japan?”
“No,” Milo’s father said. “This fish comes from Shorty’s Tavern. Koi, in general, come from Japan.”
“So what’s so special about this koi?” Milo said as he wiped his cheek dry.
“Opera.”
“Opera?”
“Opera. This fish is a very accomplished tenor”, Milo’s father said.
“The fish sings opera?”
“Well, not all opera. He’s only mastered the German operas. You know, Wagner and the like.”
Milo scowled and stared at the fish. Granted, Milo didn’t know much about opera, but the fish didn’t look much like an opera singer. “When does it start?” he asked.
“Start what?”
“Singing, of course. What else are we talking about here?”
Milo’s father clucked his tongue. “It’s singing now, silly.”
“I don’t hear anything.”
“Well, of course not. You don’t speak fish.”
“So let me get this straight. I got a Japanese fish that sings German opera in a fish language that I can’t hear?”
“Pretty cool, huh?” Milo’s father spat.
“I’m not sure that I like German opera.”
“It’ll grow on ya.”
“And to think I would’ve settled for a football.”
That afternoon, Milo went to the shed behind the house and dug out his old Radio Flyer wagon from beneath the rusty pile of old bicycles, wheelbarrows, and hibachis. He put the aquarium in the wagon and headed toward the street.
“I’m taking Coy for a walk”, Milo called to his father.
“Be home for dinner,” his father yelled from inside the house. “We’re having your favorite--salmon.
Milo winced. “It’s nothing personal,” he said to the fish.
Milo pulled the wagon along the road to the park. The fish didn’t do much. Except sing.
Maybe.
back to top
He’d asked for a football. The kind with Terry Bradshaw’s signature seared into the leather just below the laces.
But he got a fish.
“Not just any fish,” his father said. “It’s a very special fish.”
Milo’s father was a small man with a wild head of bushy hair. When he got excited, he had a habit of spitting when he talked. He got excited a lot. Milo suspected this is one of the reasons that Milo’s mother left. Milo’s father also had a habit of wearing cardigan sweaters. This is the other reason his mother left.
The fish was about a foot long. It was white with gold splotches. Or gold with white splotches, depending on how you looked at it. It floated in a cheap glass aquarium that was barely larger that it was.
Milo stared at the fish. The fish stared back. Milo watched the fish’s mouth make a perfect little “O” as it opened and closed.
“It’s a koi,” Milo’s father explained.
“What’s a koi?” Milo said.
“This fish, of course. What else are we talking about here?”
“I mean, what’s a koi in general?”
“A koi is a special kind of carp that comes from Japan.”
“So this fish is special because it comes from Japan?”
“No,” Milo’s father said. “This fish comes from Shorty’s Tavern. Koi, in general, come from Japan.”
“So what’s so special about this koi?” Milo said as he wiped his cheek dry.
“Opera.”
“Opera?”
“Opera. This fish is a very accomplished tenor”, Milo’s father said.
“The fish sings opera?”
“Well, not all opera. He’s only mastered the German operas. You know, Wagner and the like.”
Milo scowled and stared at the fish. Granted, Milo didn’t know much about opera, but the fish didn’t look much like an opera singer. “When does it start?” he asked.
“Start what?”
“Singing, of course. What else are we talking about here?”
Milo’s father clucked his tongue. “It’s singing now, silly.”
“I don’t hear anything.”
“Well, of course not. You don’t speak fish.”
“So let me get this straight. I got a Japanese fish that sings German opera in a fish language that I can’t hear?”
“Pretty cool, huh?” Milo’s father spat.
“I’m not sure that I like German opera.”
“It’ll grow on ya.”
“And to think I would’ve settled for a football.”
That afternoon, Milo went to the shed behind the house and dug out his old Radio Flyer wagon from beneath the rusty pile of old bicycles, wheelbarrows, and hibachis. He put the aquarium in the wagon and headed toward the street.
“I’m taking Coy for a walk”, Milo called to his father.
“Be home for dinner,” his father yelled from inside the house. “We’re having your favorite--salmon.
Milo winced. “It’s nothing personal,” he said to the fish.
Milo pulled the wagon along the road to the park. The fish didn’t do much. Except sing.
Maybe.
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