A Friend's Fish Tank Tale

When I was a teen, I remember Dad getting into his new BMW to drive into town for an errand. Later he told us that when he opened the driver's door to get out, a big truck swiped it right off.  While he waited for the police and insurance man to come, he went into a tropical fish place right next to the car. He bought a 75-gallon aquarium and loaded it into the trunk.  After completing the paperwork, he bungee-corded his driver's door so he could get home.

He set up the aquarium with colored pebbles, a fake cave/rock, a plastic sponge diver, a few fake ferns, a bubbler, and a filter.  He stocked it with angel fish and gold fish and set it up in the front hall on an open shelf.

Things went well for a while and then the fish started dying.  Dad would take them out and lay them on a white plastic bread board to take their pictures.  Then he'd dispose of them.  I never asked where.

After all the fish died, the aquarium still had the rest of the stuff in it - the colored pebbles, the cave/rock, the plastic sponge diver, the fake ferns, the bubbler, the filter and water.  People coming to the house would look at the tank and tap on the glass to coax the very shy fish out of hiding.  Most of the visitors were convinced they actually saw fish dart in and out of the cave.  For 23 years the aquarium remained empty of fish, but the water continued to bubble and the diver continued his quest for sponges. I never asked why.

At age 36, I went into the freezer at my parents' house looking for something to eat and came across a flat foil brick.  I thought it might contain a block of cheese. When I opened it, I found the dead angel fish. I asked Dad why there were dead angel fish in the freezer and he said,
"I wanted to take a picture of the last one after it died, but I ran out of film.  Guess I forgot I'd stored them there."

I never asked him what had happened to the gold fish.


Suzanne Lynch
December 2003