The Prison

by Stefano Pastor

  I came very close, and looked at them thoroughly. The satellite fish looked like miniaturized piranhas, with less teeth, at least by the appearance. Even the butterfly fish looked like the others, they were just party dressed.

  The fat fish had not moved yet, it did so in that moment. Abandoned by his companions, it was left alone. It timidly tried to reach them.

  It was awful at swimming, as a fish, it was a failure. That was the satellite fish' function, to support and help it, they just forgot about their duty in that moment.

  With a huge effort, it lifted itself for about a meter, then started sinking. In the air.

  I was astonished. It struggled, flapped its tiny fins, but couldn’t lift itself anymore. Gravity was beating it.

  I didn’t think about it, I just acted. I protracted my open hands right below it, and let it lay down.

  It was dying, I knew it. The piranhas would have never forgiven me. But in that moment, they were too busy contemplating the light.

  I raised it, and then changed my mind. Getting it close to the globe would have been useless, it was too high for me, and it couldn’t have reached it by itself.

  “Settle with this”, I told it.

  At least, it was harmless. They may have all been harmless, even the fearsome piranhas. That appearance may have just been a defense system. I had read something about it.

  The book!

  I sat down, right below the globe, and started browsing it. The fish were swimming in circles above me.

  There were fish of all kinds, and some looked like it. I found a puffer fish, but mine was something else. I also found the piranhas, small and ugly. No, mine weren’t in that book.

  Mine. I already considered them so. My fish.

  I browsed it all. The fish’ motion got less frenetic, their turns got wider, they started realizing they couldn’t have reached the light, the globe was protecting it. Some satellite fish came back to help the fat one.

  Stuck to the globe, remained only the butterfly fish. It was four of them, so gorgeous. I couldn’t understand their tasks. Beauty apart, they didn’t seem to have any other quality.

  I had a sudden intuition. I read that too, the teacher talked about it too: in many species, males and females have different shapes and sizes.

  She even showed it to us.

  Those were females! Vain females, just like my class mates, always ready to contemplate themselves in front of a mirror. But whose females? The piranhas? Clearly not the satellite fish’. The fat fish’s?

  Damn, it was fat, just like mom, she’s expecting a baby, my little sister. She would have arrived soon, two month at max. She explained everything to me, even how babies are born, but I wasn’t sure I understood well.

  Was it a female? That fat fish was a female, and she was even pregnant? Then who’s the male?

  I studied them all, more and more puzzled. The aliens may have had more than one sex. They had four. They were strange, obviously.

  I went back to stare at the bookshelf. There was an idea in a seed, but it refused being born. Something odd that I couldn’t understand. I still got up and put the book back in its place. I then took the one next to it, it was about the world of insects.

  I immediately found them. Ants. I was too upset to read, I only looked at the pictures. The teacher told us about them. The queen, the workers, the males. The drones. No, the drones were the bee’s males, they also had an almost identical social order. Castes, she called them.

  I was more and more astonished. Was that fat fish a queen? And then there were the workers to take care of her and the soldiers to protect her. And the males, they were the vain fish, they were only needed for reproduction.

  I read this time, it was just as I remembered. When a new queen is born, the old one must leave. The old colony sets apart and the queen leaves on an adventure, to create a new one.

  Was that the colony? And the travel? Where did they come from? From a place where fish fly, and act like insects.

  I took a sudden decision, and switched the light off. The fish lost their organization and swam confusedly. Once again, the clown fish were the first to react, heading towards the only remaining light source, the table lamp, but more slowly. This time, it was the satellite fish that passed past them, finally remembering their task.

  The fat fish – I couldn’t have called it that anymore, it was a queen – had once again somebody that supported her.

  “Gosh!” I said, which was my maximum externalization.

  No invasion, it was a colony. Outcasts, drove away from their community. They would have formed a new one, sooner or later, but they weren’t a danger for anybody at that moment. Alien fish, of course, but harmless.

  “Gosh! Gosh!” I repeated.

  There was an alien colony in my room, it settled there.

  “Let’s think about it!” I said, and I started walking around the room.

  What could I have done? Bees and ants could lay thousands of eggs. Millions. Soon, I would have been invaded by flying fish. How could I have hidden them?

  Because that was the problem, I had already taken my decision, without thinking about it, not even for a moment. I had to protect them. I was also a satellite fish, I had to save the queen.

  I then had time to think, I concluded that it may have not been all me. The queen may have been able of releasing something, maybe a pheromone, capable of convincing anybody to protect her. But it may have been bullshit.

  I had fish, and they flew. I wanted to keep them with me, I wanted them to be mine. What else?

  “Where do I hide you?”, I asked them. They addressed me with a fish look, insignificant.

  In the wardrobe. No, too dangerous. In the attic. Yeah, the attic, but how do I bring them there? With light. Bring the table lamp in the attic. But how? With an extension cable, that’s it!

  Whether we had one or not, I couldn’t find it. Not even a flashlight. There may have been one in the car, inside the trunk, but how do I reach it?

  It was still night, I couldn’t make noise. The idea of my parents finding those fish out was to me unacceptable. I knew I would have lost them.

  The only way of doing it was forcing them to follow the lights, switching them on and off in sequence, in order to make them follow a forced path. But if I had switched on the hallway’s light, my parents would have noticed, their room was right in front of mine.

  “What do I do now?”

  I could have switched the table lamp off, but what would have happened then? There was a risk of losing them forever.

  Bringing them outside, hiding them in the woods. Candles, yeah, I knew where to find them. But those stupid fish would have gotten too close, and burnt themselves. It always happens with moths.

  The sunrise got me like that, still focused on the preparations. Six hours had passed by, the craziest six hours of my existence, and I didn’t even notice.

  I wasn’t aware of the danger until it was too late. I only noticed a dim light, stronger and stronger every minute that passed. Then it was dawn, and a blade of light penetrated the windows.

  “No!” I screamed, but it was useless.

  The butterfly fish darted. They rushed into the ray, and got wrapped by it. Before I could take a single step, they were already following the flow, just like salmons climb up ta waterfall.

  They were gorgeous while rushing out of the windows, which I had left open.

  The sun! That’s what attracted them in our world. The sun’s light, obviously. But they found an obstacle, the Earth. Its dark side. They couldn’t understand they would have died there, it was the light that attracted them.

  The piranhas crushed me. They didn’t attack me, they actually crushed me. This time, I was the obstacle separating them from the light. Just like rocks, they hit me from behind and threw me on the ground. It was painful. I saw them flowing like a river, enlightened by the rays. They gleamed. They disappeared over the windowsill, without ever turning back. I had never seen a light as powerf
ul as that before.

  I tried again, I was able to get up, but the satellite fish squeezed through my fingers. They were too small, when I finally closed the windows there was none left.

  They were disappearing already, little dots in the horizon, headed towards that rising sphere that I couldn’t even stare at. I turned around, then, and she was there.

  The queen did not move, still on my bedside table, lighted by the weaker and weaker light of the table lamp. Even then, she didn’t try to move.

  My eyes filled with tears.

  They left her, abandoned her. The sun had erased everything, separated and destroyed the colony. She understood that it was a danger, but could not do anything to save her family.

  She looked so small in that moment. Fragile and lonely.

  I reached her and kneeled in front of her.

  “I’m here! I’m still here!”

  Yeah, I was there. I would have hidden her, protected her, I would have taken care of her. She was pregnant, without a doubt. She would have laid her eggs; the colony would have been saved. It wasn’t all lost.

  “I’m sorry!” I told her, even if I had not done anything wrong. But I felt like it had all been my fault. “We’re still going to make it, I swear!”

  How sad and lost she was, how did she try to get close to the lamp, and even that was tiring, she had no more energies.

  I could have done it, I was certain of it. Somehow, I would have protected her, forever.

  My promise only lasted so long. Five minutes, maybe ten. Then I fell asleep. Because I was a kid and I had been up all night. Because the bed was tempting and I needed to rest. Just a minute, it’s still early. I’ll close my eyes for just a moment, and then we’ll decide what to do.

  But two hours had passed by when I re-opened my eyes, and she was dead.

  I only talked about it with my mother. Once and never again. I could only do it one year later, when I was able to take on the topic.

  I don’t know what I was expecting.

  I told her about the flying fish, about the alien colony. She first smiled, then got back serious. She listened to everything, without interrupting me.

  I couldn’t translate into words the sensation of loss that accompanied me since that day.

  I was waiting for the answer, I was ready for anything. Nothing could have hurt me. I had already hurt myself enough.

  “What do you think about it?” I asked her.

  It was obvious that she didn’t believe me, in the real world, fish don’t fly.

  She sighed. “You feel regret, it’s clear.”

  It was just like that, I was torn apart by the regret.

  “For that poor fish”, she added.

  She was special, my mom, she really understood.

  I didn’t care whether she believed me or not, she still understood.

  “It’s right that way, even if it was only a fish”, she continued. “This is a life lesson that needs to be learnt.”

  I wasn’t sure I understood. “It wasn’t just a fish.”

  She smiled. “Whether it flew or not, it doesn’t matter.” She didn’t believe me, it was certain now. “It was still a life, and life is not to be played with. But it’s good that you feel regret, now. So that you will learn to never do it again.”

  I was more and more confused. “What?”

  She shook her head. “You know very well! Fish are fish. If you want to believe they can fly, you’re free to do so. But don’t demand them to actually fly. Fish need water to live.”

  That’s when I understood, without needing her to say any more. The mystery that I could never explain. It was her, really her! She came into my room and found me sleeping. She saw the queen on the side bed table. That fat fish, that had no more strength to lift itself in the air. The most gorgeous creature that I swore I would have protected.

  Mom was good, even if it was just a fish, she tried to save her. That’s why she put her in the aquarium.

  Poor little queen, what a horrible death she had. And the colony she was carrying too. Drowning to death, what an absurd death for fish.

  I could never forget her empty eyes, when I saw her floating, motionless, on the bottom of the aquarium, as soon as I got up that morning.

  Just like mom could never forget the scream she heard right after.

  January 2015

  COURTYARD

  Translation by Manuel

  To the old man

  in the courtyard

  which has changed

  my life

  “Of course he loves you! He always asks about you! He sends you many kisses!”

  This is what the woman says, when they call. But it’s already been two years that I haven’t spoken to anyone, least of all with her. And I don’t have anyone to love. Certainly not them.

  My children have found the woman. Not to let me alone, they said. To get rid of me, in truth.

  Eighty, eighty years down the drain. I reached that age few days ago, but nobody remembered. Them, my children, grandchildren, all hate me. And they are right, even I have never loved them. I have dominated their life as my father had dominated mine. I have grown them up with severity, discipline, without love, as he had done with me.

  Besides, I have never felt them as mine. I had not chosen to have them, as I did not choose to marry their mother, nor did the teacher work that I hated so much. My father had decided everything.

  When he died of a heart attack, I was already more than forty years old. For a moment, I thought of finally being free: I could realize all my dreams, be what I wanted.

  I left the job and decided to become a writer. I shut myself in the studio, in front of a blank page, but no matter how hard I tried to find the inspiration the only thing that came to my mind was a tale I had thought when I was just a kid.

  It was not easy, and I had to improvise escaped memories. But I managed to sell the story the same, and it had a fair success.

  Then I tried again, but it was a catastrophe, I did a couple of other books, one worse than the other, that no publisher ever wanted to publish. In the end I gave up, the secret dream of my whole life had died before I was born. This, too, could make my father: make me dry, completely empty.

  I went back to teaching, and to a family that I did not love and who did not love me.

  The Princess, the Knight and the Seer.

  This is the title of my book. A fragment of my soul.

  I remember the day I confessed to my father I wanted to be a writer, and all the beatings he gave me. It was the first time he hit me, but it has not been the last.

  My life has been pointless, even more empty and barren of the one who dominated it. And now that it comes to an end there are only these few pages to be the witnesses of my existence.

  If I was still talking, I could recite them.

  The Princess ran towards the sunrise, attracted by its splendor. She was the supreme being of creation, absolute perfection. Her beauty took the breath away to everybody who met her. Her voice was sweet as the song of a nightingale; her eyes were pools of pure water. Gold hair that framed her face…

  Yes, she was perfect; the most perfect being ever been conceived by divine mind. She gave joy to the world: if she was dead, the very existence of humankind would have been useless. The sadness would have wrapped everything like a shroud.

  Just as it happened to my existence.

  I never knew her name, or even if I met her now I forgot it: in my book, I invented one, Aurora, but it was not the right one.

  I have changed many things in my story, so many things that I did not remember anymore. What did happen to the princess, did she lived happily ever after? I had no memory, maybe I never discovered. I made her live happily ever after with her knight. It was within my power, after all.

  The woman does everything for me: she cleans me, she dresses me, and she takes me around. She even speaks for me, as if she had any idea what goes through my mind.

  I cannot walk very well anymore;
I have to use a cane. She supports me, but my feet are getting shorter. She takes me out every day; she says that it is good, that is why I have to insist. When she realizes that I can no longer go on, we sit on a bench.

  Why all this effort, don’t you see that it is useless, that I am at the end, I’m dying? Day by day, step by step, bench after bench.

  She leaves me alone, sometimes, like today. When she has to do some errands and she cannot take me with her. She lets me sit on the bench, so she knows I do not escape and she always finds me when she’s back.

  Today she abandoned me into a courtyard. She spotted it passing by, she saw the grassy stretch, the benches under the trees. It was open, a courtyard surrounded by palaces, an oasis of green in a sea of concrete. She brought me there, she made me sit and she left.

  I don’t mind, it’s very quiet there. There is peace, there is no one except me, only a playing child.

  It reminds me of another courtyard, where I went as a child. It was my refuge, the place to go on dreaming. The grass was tall, large golden spikes, like wheat, and in the middle the skeleton of a machine, just like this one, in front, where a child is playing.

  He’s small, he seems seven or eight years old, and he is kneeling on the ground, in front of the broken seat through of the car. He plays with something that is inside.

  I look at him, I follow his every move, because I have nothing else to do. He is cutting out a magazine. I focus that little bit of sight I have left. He cut out people, maybe it’s a fashion magazine. I smile: I did that as a kid too. I forgot that, but looking at him, made the memory immediately came to my mind.

  I did cut out characters, then I created stories, I moved them like puppets and I made them talk. I gave voice to all characters: my private theater.

  The child’s voice is faint, distant, in falsetto. He seems to recite a poem.

  “The princess ran into the woods.”

  “Majesty, stop, where are you going?”

  “Chasing sun rise.”