I thought it was funny, the way Michael was swimming. Michael was my favorite fish. He had a silly mouth that he got flat and attached it to the glass. Mommy told me he did that because he was an oto-something algae eater. But now Michael was on his back, not attaching his mouth to anything.
I’ve had him for a long time, since Christmas when I was four and a half. Now I am already five and a quarter.
I told Mommy to come and see how Michael was swimming funny, and she said, “Oh, sorry, Billy-boy,” and she had that sad look on her face, like when Granny came to visit.
She took Michael out of the fish tank, and when I asked her why, she said that it was time to set Michael free.
“But what about George and Natasha?” I asked. George and Natasha were black and had bulgy eyes. I liked them too. “Won’t they get jealous?”
From left to right: Michael, George, and Natasha
“No, baby. They have to wait for their own turn.”
She held the fish net with Michael in it. Michael wasn’t moving at all. I followed Mommy and Michael to the bathroom.
“Does Michael need to go poo-poo?” I asked.
“No, sweetie,” she told me. “Say bye-bye to Michael. He is going away to the ocean.” She put Michael in the toilet and pushed down the flushing handle.
“Bye-bye, Michael,” I said.
But I thought of that time when we went to the ocean. We had to drive in the car, and it took at least six hours.
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