A fish with a wish - Ethan Crownberry

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A fish with a wish - Ethan Crownberry A Fish with a Wish By Ethan Crownberry A Fish with a Wish By Ethan Crownberry Copyri ght © 2005 by Vincent Somerville All Right s Reserved. No part o f this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electroni c or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any informatio n sto rage and retrieval system, without permission in writ ing fro m t he Aut hor. To purchase a copy of this story, visit: www. EthanCrownberry. com To my father, the most honorable man I’ve ever known. I wish you well… Some time ago, in an awfully gray room, i n a corner so dark and so filled up with gloom, on a table just barely four legs and a plank, sat one gall on of water in a tiny glass tank. And inside that water a goldfi sh was swi mming, pondering gl umly the life he was living. And i n that gl ass tank on that old wobbl y table is where we begin this odd fish-wishy fabl e. For the fish had been brought home from the pet store that day, and was dropped i n his tank i n a most unpleasant way. He’d been bought by a man as a gift for his daughter— bought with no more than one thin, shiny quarter, then carri ed home quickl y i n a small bag of water. And now the fish was unhappy. He was far, far from gl ad. He was qui te disappoi nted, and growing quite mad. For the water all around him was cloudy and cold, and the table beneath him was eighty years ol d. “How mean to have put me in such a ti ght place,” said the fish wi th an awful fish frown on hi s face. “Thank goodness I’m small and not big like a trout,” he huffed one more ti me as he pouted about. His tank was too small; it was qui te plain to see. His tank was much smal ler than a fish tank should be. There were no fun fish toys, and no fish decorations, li ke shipwrecks that bubble and pl asti c crustaceans. There was no ocean backdrop. There were no col ored stones. There were no pirate chests with skull s and crossbones. There were no deep-sea plants, and tree trunks to swim through. There was no one to talk to. There was nothing to do. “This tank i s not fit for a fi sh to be i n,” said the fish as he tappe d on the glass with his fi n. “Now, I don’t mean to mumbl e, and don’t mean to moan. And I don’t mean to grumbl e, and don’t mean to groan. Please pardon my anger, and pardon my tone, but…IS ANYONE THERE? AM I HERE ALL ALONE?” But no one came running to answer hi s call. There was nobody there; there was no one at all. And the room was as dark as the night was outsi de. It was qui te hard to see, though he tried and he tried. There was nowhere to go. There was nowhere to hide. And wi th nowhere to swim, he was fi t to be tied. He was so sad and lonel y he coul d have just cri ed. But the tears wouldn’t come; he was too full of pri de. It was all he could take; he would not let it slide. He would not keep the way he felt bottled i nside. So up from the water the fish poppe d his head, and with one giant fish breath the fish loudly said, “I am not just some tri nket one locks in a case. I’m a gol dfish with needs—I need room—I need space. I need sunlight, and friends, and clean water, and food, and a lack of these things is not good for my mood…” “Now, I know that you’ re out there, you fish-buying man, and I know you can hear me—I know that you can. Well, this tank i s as bad as a fish tank can get, and one day I’ll get out, and on that, you can bet! For I feel that my life should hold much more in store. I do not want to stay here—not one minute more. And I don’t mean to frown, and I don’ t mean to pout. I don’t mean to ramble, and don’t mean to spout. I don’t mean to yell, and I don’t mean to shout, but…FOR GOODNESS SAKE, SOMEBODY, PLEASE LET ME OUT! ” And again no one came. And the fish kept on talking. He compl ai ned and complained, and went on and on squawki ng. He muttered and whined, but he didn’t stop there; he ni ggled and nagged, and continued to bl are. He ranted so loudly that i f he had hair, he’d have pulled every strand ‘til his fish head was bare. He nitpicke d and pi cke d, and l eft nothing to spare, and at l east thirty times shouted, “LIFE ISN’ T FAIR!” Then all of a sudden, a li ght shi ned in his face, not a light from inside but from deep outer space. It shined through the window ri ght down in his eyes, so fast it had taken him qui te by surprise. He squi nted and flinched, and he cl osed his eyes tight, and he held up his fish fi n to block out the li ght. He had never seen anythi ng shini ng so bright, and had never seen light with such power and mi ght. “Who’s there?” asked the fi sh, wondering who i t coul d be. “Coul d you please dowse your light? It’s too bri ght! I can’t see!” Then slowl y but surel y the light faded low ‘til all that was left was a soft gentle glow. “What’s this?” said the fi sh, as he opened each eye. With his eyes opened wi de, he l ooked up at the sky. “A star!” he declared. “I know just what I’ll do. I will wish and I’ll wish ‘ til my wi shes come true. I will wish a whole lot. I will wish a whole slew. I will wish ‘til my fish face turns three shades of blue.” “And what woul d you wi sh,” the fish heard the star say, “if your wishes were granted all night and all day?” And the fish nearly jumped back a hal f-i nch or two. “You can tal k! ” he said, shocked. “Well, that’s something quite new…” “But as l ong as you’ ve asked, I wi ...