Fishy Chronicles 20: The Strangeness Of Happiness

I stumbled against a flower pot and felt Genie's tight grip steady me. I don’t know which was more painful, his fingers biting into my fleshy forearm or my stubbed toe.

“Why are we crawling about in the dark? I’m going to my house. I’m not doing anything illicit! Going home in pitch dark feels like I’m doing something I’m not supposed to,” I grumbled.

“Shhhh,” said Fish.

“I’m saying...”

“Too much,” Genie said. He grabbed my bags, went up the stairs in a flash and I heard the faint sound of my door being unlocked.

I wheeled the fish tank toward the lift and glared at the sleeping watchman. Our racket hadn’t woken him up. Some people were blessed. They could sleep through storms. Even though I had slept in the best beds in Cambodia, I had tossed and turned. I had heard strange noises and had had strange thoughts and only near the end of my holiday had slept long stretches, mostly because I was tired each day.

Genie loomed in my face. He picked up the fish tank and moved swiftly up the stairs. I saw a light in an upstairs window. Old Mrs Glory Gonsalves was smoking in her balcony. She only ever smoked at night and out of sight of our neighbours from the Dark Ages. She blew me a kiss and I blew one back at her.

I walked up the stairs and stopped. Genie was leaning against the wall near our home, ostensibly waiting for me, his arms crossed, his thin white t-shirt clinging to his muscled arms and torso, his nipples showing and one of his legs in front of the other, with the ankles crossed – like those middle-aged society madams trying to look thin and hip. Really, Genie, a minute and you got tired waiting for me?

I entered the flat. I sighed. It was so good to be back home. Fish were already rushing about their home tank, moving furniture, hiding their eats and trying to find their comfortable spots. Their luggage was strewn at the bottom of the tank. Five fish, so much luggage. So materialistic.

A throat cleared behind me and I turned. Genie smiled. “Good night. Your suitcase is in your room.”

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This is a fictional series about the narrator, Genie, her former manservant and now friend, five opinionated fish, a devoted mosquito called Nobby and a visiting North Pole elf called Donny. They have just returned from a holiday and are now face to face with a neighbour who is in love with Genie.

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I heard the doorbell ring.

Ignore, ignore, ignore! It was the weekend. I tried to shove my pillow into my ears. Then I heard a familiar voice. I immediately jumped out of bed and tiptoed to my bedroom door and listened.

It couldn’t be! I listened for several minutes. Nothing! What a time for a door to block out sound.

I tiptoed into the corridor off the hallway to hear better, but Genie caught sight of me.

“Oh, look, she’s awake,” Genie stood, smiled and gestured at me to sit near him on the sofa. I felt grubby and shabby in my long loose nightgown, especially as Zeba was looking her best in a tight, flower print halterneck dress.

He took my arm and led me toward the sofa. Genie sat next to me, leaned back, put his arm along the back of the sofa, stretched his legs and smiled expansively at Zeba.

My eyes bulged the minute I felt his arm behind my head. What was Genie thinking! His smile was cool, and hovered only around his mouth. 

My head whipped around. Zeba's smile had faltered and it was clear she was making an effort to keep smiling. 

“Zeba was asking about our trip,” Genie’s moustache said.

“Yes, Cambodia. How exciting. What did you both do?” Zeba's eyes bored into me.

“I was on a yoga retreat. But they,” Genie's free hand gestured at me, and he instantly corrected himself, “she, had the time of her life. Didn’t you, my love? Tell Zeba about your adventures.”

My love? I could feel a stake through my heart already. “E-Er... H-h-had an excellent guide and all. Went to the temples, Angkor Wat, Bayon, Ta Prohm. Y-you must go, it's a traveller's delight, for sure."

“I’m sure.” Zeba said, her eyes feasting on Genie and him smiling back at her lazily. Shit, shit, shit! I turned, desperately looking at Fish. Where was Donny, my dear elf?

I spotted them, pressed against the fish tank’s wall, watching us with no expression at all and very still. Nobby was watching from atop the tank. I turned around and saw Donny hiding behind a large potted plant on my sitting ledge near the window. I felt a little confidence creep into my being.

I looked back at Zeba and was startled by an angry look, quickly replaced by a fake smile. I felt Genie's arm fall onto my shoulder and him saying loudly into my ear. “Go get our present for Zeba. It’s the bag on the kitchen platform. Go on. And some of those chocolates.”

I got up. There were about six mangoes tied up in a fancy gauzy bag, a big red ribbon tied neatly around its neck. I opened the fridge and found two large bars of liquor chocolates in a narrow checked gift bag, sitting on a shelf. Genie seemed to have thought of everything.

When I returned, Genie and Zeba were standing and kissing each other's cheeks. I handed Zeba the mangoes and chocolates and she thanked Genie effusively and ignored me. 

He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her toward the door. She attempted to hug him but he held back. So she threw her arms around his neck and then moved back, out of the door and out of my line of vision. Genie waved and nodded and smiled and then closed both doors.

“What's going on, Genie?” I asked.

Genie shrugged, sat on the sofa and shook out the newspaper he had been reading before Zeba rang the doorbell.

I stood in front of him, plucked the newspaper out of his hands, shoved it into my left armpit, crossed my arms and waited. 

Genie grinned broadly, stretched his legs, for which I had to move out of the way, and relaxed, staring up at me, his head tilted to one side. “Fraternising with a beautiful neighbour.”

“A hateful woman.”

“Tut, tut. A human being. And an esteemed member of this Society.”

“Bullshit.”

Genie laughed. He looked at my angry face and laughed again.

I looked up. The top of the tank had slammed against the wall behind it, and against the laws of physics stayed upright precariously. 

“What the fork, Genie! What the hell are you playing at!” my dear, dear Penaaz shouted. Water splashed out of the tank, as the other fish first flew around the tank and then jumped to the top.

“Yeah,” Portas and Pervez shouted together.

I could see Genie was surprised at Fish's reactions. What did he expect! They hated Zeba as much as I did.

I remembered Nobby. He was now sitting on the bookshelf. “Why didn’t you bite Zeba, Nobby?”

“I have renounced violence.”

“Bullcrap and bullshit!” 

Genie and Nobby burst out laughing. I threw myself at Genie, but I was no match for him. He pinned me against the sofa with an arm and continued to laugh while I and Fish shouted and swore. Finally Genie put his finger on my lips and said, “Shhh. We don’t want darling Zeba to return, do we?”

I wanted to call him a name, but mostly I wanted to bounce the hardest, biggest Cambodian mango we had on Zeba's fat, hairy head. When he didn't take off his hand from my mouth or stop pinning me to the back of the sofa, I nodded angrily. After an eternity, he let me go. The idiot!

I stood up. “What is going on, Genie?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit!”

Genie laughed.

“Stop playing around with me, Genie! Are you fooling around with her?” I demanded. 

Genie stopped laughing, but continued to smile. He shrugged one shoulder.

“Out with it, Genie,” Gregory said from the tank.

“I didn't expect Zeba to visit. So soon, in any case,” Genie said.

“We're listening,” Gregory prodded.

“And I’ve been thinking these last few days... especially after her phonecalls while we were in Phnom Penh...”

“And?” I pressed.

“And I think I’ve been handling things... inefficiently.”

“Meaning?” 

“We’re going about Zeba the wrong way.”

“So all the mangoes you bought in Phnom Penh were for Zeba?” 

“No. The mangoes and chocolates on the kitchen platform were for Ms Glory. Zeba just beat her to it.”

“But you’re sending Zeba the wrong signals!”

“I’m just trying to do the neighbourly thing. Sharing fruit.”

“Sounds like bullshit to me,” I told him.

“Good to know.”

I had a thought. “Are you two going to be coochie cooing on a regular basis?”

“I can’t say."

“It would make me sick,” Portas said from the fish tank.

“I second that,” Gregory said. The lovers, Penaaz and Pervez, had retreated to a corner and were murmuring to themselves.

Genie patted the seat next to him. When I didn’t move, he pulled me onto the sofa. “I’ll make some tea. I offered yours to Zeba.”

I was going to say something rude when I remembered. “Did Nobby...?”

“Yes. He had the first sip. Happy?” 

I shook out the crumpled entertainment supplement of the Bombay Sentinel. What I wouldn’t give for Zeba to know a mosquito had dunked his proboscis into her tea, especially one who often chugged her blood. I struggled not to chuckle.

Papa was right. Happiness came from the strangest things. 

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