Edward Is Only a Fish (3 page)

“Now that I am the boss of the house,” said Edward in a voice that made the frying pans shake and the spatulas tremble and the cheese graters tumble from their cheese grater shelves, “there are going to be some changes around here.”

There was no answer. The stationmaster in the station house looked down at his cards. His herd of tiny cows grazed back and forth across their flannel-board meadow. And off in the distance, out beyond the mountains of the spices and the valleys of the mixing bowls, a pepper-shaker horse with his salt-shaker cowboy whirled in the current like a bronco in a rodeo ring.

“Rule number one,” said Edward as he plucked out the stationmaster and dropped him onto the wobbly kitchen counter.

“I can do whatever I want, whenever I want, and you have to do what I say.”

The counter wobbled. The stationmaster nodded.

“Rule number two,” said Edward as he scooped up the cattle with a sweep of his fin and plopped them down beside the stationmaster. “You've got to live where I tell you to live, but I get to live where I want.”

The stationmaster nodded. The cows all nodded.

“Rule number three,” called out Edward to the cowboy and his horse in the distance. “You go to bed when I say go to bed, and I go to bed when I want.”

The cowboy nodded, but he didn't say a word. Up and down and up and down. He was too busy hanging on to his hat.

“These are the rules and I make the rules, and I make the rules because … because…” Edward had to think for a minute. “… because I am bigger than you.”

Nods all around. The cowboy was nodding so hard he almost fell off his horse.

“Any questions?”

Silence. A sputter of bubbles out from under a pie tin. The clunk of an armchair bumping into a rafter. Outside, far and away across the rooftops, the chatter of a starling in a tangerine tree.

“Good.”

And good it was. Edward caught sight of himself in the curves of Mr. B's shiny toaster and sashayed over to take a closer look. He bowed to himself. He waved. The closer he came, the bigger he got. As the toaster bulged out to try to make a better fit, Edward's fins blazed out like a pair of silver spurs, he shot up as tall as a ten-gallon hat, his shadow spilled out in a long black cloud from one end of the counter to the other. He was the king of the ranch.

“You will live here,” said Edward as he picked up the stationmaster and dropped him into a glass measuring cup. Five ounces, four ounces, three ounces, two ounces … the stationmaster shrunk down between the tight red bars, down and down until he was at the bottom of the cup. “That's so that you will always know how many ounces you are.

“And you will live here,” said Edward as he dropped the cows one by one into an empty milk bottle. “That's so that you will feel at home. You are just a cow, you are not a fish, I cannot have you roaming all over my house.”

The cows tumbled down to the bottom of the bottle like pebbles spinning down to the bottom of a well. It made Edward feel big to be telling everybody what to do. Mr. B was a nice person and everything, but when it came to running a house, he was useless.

“And you…,” continued Edward as he turned to the cowboy salt shaker. “You will—”

Edward turned around completely. The cowboy and his horse were gone. Quick, thought Edward, if I were salt and pepper shakers, where would I go? Quick! A picnic, came the answer, I would take myself out on a picnic.

Edward lit out for the parlor.

“Whoa on up there! You just whoa on up there, partner!”

By the time he caught up, they were halfway to the door.

“You listen to me,” said Edward as he snapped at their hoofs and their boots and their bridles and their buckles. “I am the boss of the house and you will go where I tell you to go.”

Neither of them gave Edward so much as a glance. He was tumbleweed beneath their feet as they galloped across the prairie.

“I'm warning you!”

He tried to snatch them up in his mouth, but they were too slippery to hold. His fins slid off the cowboy's porcelain shoulders and down the horse's porcelain tail, and they both bucked off in a circle around him. Edward tried to push them with his nose. He tried to kick them with his tail. Nothing. Onward to the door they spun.

Outside in the garden the crickets were singing. The sky was a bright blue ship, the clouds were the bright white sails, the sunlight tumbled down from the trees and in through the window like a thousand bright birds, but Edward did not notice any of these things. Right then he was not big enough inside to contain them all. Right then he was all taken up by the cowboy and the horse.

“Go ahead, then,” said Edward. He snapped off the string from the covered-wagon kite and tied one end to his tail. “You just go and ride to your heart's content.”

Bang
went the cowboy against the kite, and then onward he rode. Edward took the other end of the string and tied it into a lasso.

“You should know better than to tangle with me.”

He lassoed the horse, pulled the string tight, then looped it once around the hat rack for good measure. He did not even notice the direction that the current was taking him, or the light shining up through the slot in the door, or the eyes peering in through the rush of the water.

“Now look who is the boss,” said Edward above the rattle of the mail chute and the roar of the water.

“Now look who is the biggest of the biggest of the biggest of the—,” said Edward as the current spun at him and tugged at him and pulled him toward the door.

At the word
big,
the current sucked Edward—
whoosh
—right through the chute and straight out the door.
Whoosh.

Six

CAPTURED!

In the middle of the sun, out in the middle of the bright sunlight, sat the cat, the fat cat, the fattest of the fat cats. Edward hung by his tail from the string as the water flowed around him. It was such a nice day that the cat began to sing.

I look in the mail slot

And what do I see?

A let, a let, a letter.

A letter for me!

Edward flipped and flopped and fluttered on the string. The cat twitched and flitched and switched her gleaming whiskers.

“You don't want to eat me,” said Edward.

“Why not?” said the cat as she washed her paws in the flowing water. She was careful to scrub under the nails.

“I don't have enough meat on my bones.”

“But I am on a diet,” she said as she glanced up at him and then back down at her paws, “and you would be just the right size.”

“I'm telling you. I am much smaller than I look.”

“Then maybe I should move closer. Maybe you are so small because I am so far away.”

“I'm warning you. An hour later and you would just be hungry again.”

“Then I will eat half of you now, and half of you an hour from now.”

“Okay. Fine, then. If you want to ruin your appetite eating such a scrawny fish.”

“But you are not a scrawny fish.”

“No, no, no. You're just saying that to make me feel good. Look—look here at my ribs, look at them sticking out here.”

“No, no, no. You should have a higher opinion of yourself. I have always found you very attractive.”

“You mean small and attractive, don't you? Very, very small and very, very attractive, like a tiny butterfly?”

“Not at all. Rumor has it that you are the biggest of the big.”

“No, no, no. That was a misunderstanding. I am the smallest of the small.”

“But I heard you say it yourself. You said that you were the biggest of the—”

“No, no, no. I meant … I said … I meant that I used to be big but that … but that … what with this water and everything, I shrunk. Everything shrinks when you put it in water.”

“But you have always been in water.”

“Not this much water. This is a lot of water, a lot more water than I have ever been in before.”

The cat cocked her head to one side and stared at Edward. Never in her life had she met such a complicated fish. She gave the string a little tug. She arched her neck to peer into the bubbling front windows. She sniffed at the mist in the air.

“Well, water or no water, you look plenty big enough to me.”

“That is just because I am big-boned. I have big bones.”

“Big what?”

“Big bones.”

The cat yawned once and ran her tongue across her teeth. Complicated, complicated. The whole thing was getting far too complicated.

“Well, this has certainly been a very interesting discussion, and I thank you. I have learned a lot about fish that I never knew before. You have a very pleasant personality, and I wish you the best of luck in the future. Now I am going to eat you.”

The cat lifted Edward by the string and dangled him in the air. He felt the heat of her breath on the back of his neck.

“Good for you…,” gasped Edward to the cat. “For not being afraid…”

He was gulping now and his voice was getting fainter. The cat opened her jaws and held him high above her head.

“Good for you…,” whispered Edward with his last ounce of strength. “For not being afraid … of what the people will say.…”

The cat stopped.

“What? What people what?”

Edward hung limp on the end of the string.

“What did you say?”

Silence. The cat lowered Edward back into the water and swished him around.

“What did you just say?”

Edward wriggled back to life immediately.

“No, no, no. Eat me, eat me up. I admire your courage. And don't be afraid of what the people will say.”

“What will the people say?”

“Isn't that obvious?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you're going to eat me now, right?”

“Yes,” said the cat. That was a simple question. She liked simple questions.

“Just like that?”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought that you were one of the better cats.”

“I am one of the better cats. I am even better than the better of the cats.”

“Oh. Then you already know.”

“Know? Know about what?”

“The spices.”

“The spices?”

“Don't tell me you've forgotten the spices?”

The cat glanced around to see if anybody was watching. She did not know whether to answer yes or to answer no.

“Of course,” said Edward. “The better cats are the only cats who insist upon the spices. Maybe you are
not
one of the better cats.”

“Oh, yes, I … I mean no, I … I mean yes, yes, of course I am. And the spices, too. I would never—”

“That's good. I just thought that you had forgotten.”

“Of course not. That would be ridiculous.”

“Good.”

Silence. The cat lifted Edward up to her mouth again and then put him back down.

“Now, about the … about these, about this—”