See, I was told I should have janitor fish in my pond. I had no idea what they were but was told that no self-respecting pond or aquarium was without one. Since my pond is big, I bought four and released two on the right and two on the left side of the pond. I didn’t know yet that you were supposed to acclimatize fish to water conditions by holding them in a basin with half the water they came in and half the water they were going into for at least half-an-hour. I just unceremoniously dumped them in and forgot about them so I don’t know if they all lived.
Once in a while I asked if anyone had seen the janitor fish. No one had. Then when I had all but forgotten them, my ex-maid Ana said, "There’s a strange fish in the pond. It’s hard to describe. I don’t know if it’s the janitor fish because it’s as big as the carp but it’s a light gold color. It used to be reddish-black right? It’s just there at the bottom of the pond. Then it quickly disappears. I wish you could see it"
One day when I was alone walking along the pond I saw it. It bore no resemblance to the ugly fish I brought home from the pet shop. This was big, bleached with marked embossed scales. The fish looked like it was wearing a peach, piqué body suit and it had a lovely gossamer tail and fins. I felt as I looked at it lying motionless on the pond floor that it was shy, tentative about revealing itself but needing to be seen, needing to assert itself as one more life in the pond. In a blink of an eye it swam away, so swiftly you wondered if it really had been there. But there between the rocks a soft gossamer tail disappearing. Wow!
"It’s sticky and rough to the touch," my student Sarah described, "like pumice so it can cling to the sides of an aquarium and clean it up. It would grow big in a pond like this." Maybe if stretched it would change color, too. Notice how when people gain weight their skin stretches and gets lighter? A body like pumice trimmed with wispy silk tail and fins, a study in contrast. What a mysterious fish. It seems designed to be invisible and yet cannot resist becoming visible once in a rare while.
Now that I am alone, I feed the fish in my pond. This mysterious fish occasionally emerges and lies at my feet just long enough for me to see it. Hello, I say from my soul. It turns and swims under the bridge leaving me sort of breathless. I always think: Everyone wants to be seen. Everyone wants to be acknowledged as a presence in the pond, in the world, in this life. No one truly cares for invisibility. Every time I see this mysterious fish – and I don’t know if there’s only one or four of them who look exactly alike – I feel privileged, blessed and profoundly grateful. This creature brings me gifts!
It was raining hard. Marl and I burst into Bizu in a gust of wind and water to celebrate my birthday with breakfast – just the two of us. In the restaurant two male friends were having breakfast, too. I could tell from the way one of them moved, ever so slightly, that I knew this man. I couldn’t see who he was because I wasn’t wearing my glasses, all fogged up from having come from an air-conditioned car and now wet from the storm. I am blind to details without them. In between scanning the menu and deciding on what majorly fattening thing I would have for breakfast I thought, I know that man . . . but who. . . I think. . . could it be. . . I must have a good look . . . but he has his back to me. . .
Then he looked back and directly at me. It was! We were shy friends in high school. We had crushes on each other but we never got around to telling each other. Since then, like the janitor fish in my pond, we would see each other every once in a long while accidentally, a flash of recognition, a quick hello, a gossamer tail disappearing gracefully among rocks. "Is that you? It’s been years," I said.
"I didn’t recognize you right away. I wasn’t wearing my glasses," he said.
"Well, yes, neither was I. We’re there now," I said.
"I read your columns. Where are you now?"
"Hiding in Laguna."
Then he and his friend left. Marl and I stayed behind, stuffing our faces with brioche, eggs benedict, mushroom frittata. Generous gallant Marl was pushing me to try this and that. Finally, she had to go to work and I had to start moving towards my daughter’s home in the far end of town. Since this was her breakfast treat, she asked for the bill. "Is this all?" she asked the waitress incredulously.
"Ma’am, those two gentlemen paid your bill," the waitress smiled.
"Wow, Twee," Marl said with much admiration. "What a way to start a birthday!"
I must admit I felt good, seen, noticed in his pond of memories. I felt privileged, blessed and profoundly grateful. It was the best gift I received because it was totally unexpected. It sure boosted my stock with Marl and the waitresses. My self-esteem rose past depression levels where it had been hovering.
So, if you really read my columns, thank you. It was great running into you. This is the only way I know to thank you.