Fighter Fish

 

God knows that man will sin time and again

He only asks of us to try

God knows all of our needs

He knows man seeks not just for survival

God has mercy on all mankind

The sinners and the saints alike.

 

~ Gemini Joe ~

 

ictor and Dominic weren’t the only mean brothers in the neighborhood. They had many friends with younger siblings. This group of older boys met in the park often, dragging their little brothers with them. They pitted them against each other in a boxing ring they drew with chalk. It was serious business as they placed their bets on the winner. We had no choice in the matter.

One day, Vic said, “Come on, we're going to the park.”

Usually, I had to beg my brothers to take me along, but, now, my knees began to shake. We entered through a hole in the fence, a shortcut someone made with wire cutters. Vic put some mittens on me. They weren’t boxing gloves. They were mittens.

Once the circle was drawn, they decided who would go first. Wouldn’t you know? I was and they shoved me in the circle.

“You kick the shit out of this kid or we’ll kick the shit out of you,” my brothers said.

As it turned out, this kid was a friend of mine, a little Irish boy named Brian. He liked me. I liked him.

Brian looked scared. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I didn’t want to face my brothers. So I blocked everything out of my mind.

Someone blew a whistle. We came out of the corner and I hit him with everything I had.

Blood squirted from his nose and trickled down his chin.

Everyone cheered, but it made me feel sick. I told him, “Go down! Go down! Go down!”

But, Brian didn’t go down. Probably he was scared of his older brother and he wouldn’t quit. He raised his gloves to get in a punch, but I ducked and hit him harder. I kept hitting him, because I would have gotten a beating from my brothers. Finally, he went down.

Vic and Dom collected their money and we left. I looked back and saw my friend laying at the edge of the circle with his brother standing over him.

After that, they were making me challenge everybody, big and small. They would bet on me. “You come out winning or else.”

My brothers did a good job of trying to make me tough. They made me fight everyone. I have one minute to put the enemy down. There was no enemy, but I knew that I was running out of breath and could not fight everyone. “You did good,” Dom said on the way home. Striking a match, he lit two cigarettes and gave one to me.

I started smoking at the age of seven. It seemed like a natural thing. My father smoked and so did my brothers.

At first, I didn’t like it, but soon, I was sneaking cigarettes and hunting for unwanted pennies in my quest for nicotine.

Every day, I took a walk to the candy store. My head didn’t reach the counter, but I lifted myself up on my toes.

“One cigarette please,” I said to the merchant.

“That’ll be one penny, little guy, and here are your two matches.”

 

 

On Saturday morning, I heard my father getting ready to leave the house. I jumped out of bed and danced into the kitchen with one leg in my pants.

“Pop, can I come?” I loved to go with him because along the way, if I looked cute enough, I got treats.

“Only if you promise to put both legs in your pants,” my father said. He was a funny guy.

First, we stopped at the bakery. The man behind the counter handed my father a white envelope, which he stuffed inside his coat. I gave the baker a big smile. He handed me a cookie from the glass case It had colorful sprinkles.

“Thank you,” I said.

The next stop was the candy store where a police officer stood in front, twirling his baton.

When we entered the store, the owner looked nervous.

“Let’s go into the back, Joseph.”

“Wait right here, Joey,” my father said, before he went with him behind the curtain.

When they came back to the front, the cop was gone and the man relaxed. “Would the boy like a piece of chocolate?”

“Yes, thank you.” I chose one with raisins and nuts.

We left the store and continued down Eighteenth Avenue.

“Pop. How come we don’t have to pay for anything?”

“Because I’m a very important man and they respect me.”

The next stop was an ice-cream parlor, and I thought about what flavor I would have. I chose chocolate. This time my dad received a treat, too. He picked vanilla. Licking our ice cream cones, we headed home. When we were passing the pet store, I stopped to look at the fish tanks in the window.

“What kind of fish is that, Pop?”

“Finish your ice-cream and we’ll go inside.”

I gobbled it as fast as I could.

“Slow down,” Pop said. “Or you’ll freeze your brain.”

“I’m done,” I said and wiped my mouth with my sleeve.

Me and my dad went into the pet store and walked up and down the aisles looking at the colorful fish in the tanks.

“Why do they keep those fish separate?” I asked. “Don’t they get lonely?”

“Those are Chinese warrior fish,” my dad said. “If you put them together, they will fight to the death.”

“I wish I had a warrior fish.” I wondered if the storeowner respected my father enough to give us one, but I was afraid to ask. Then something wonderful happened. My father bought a tank, supplies and two warrior fish, one red male and one blue female. The male had a beautiful tail that fanned out.

When we returned home, my dad set up the tank in my room and separated them with a partition so they wouldn’t fight. He also put a mirror in the back so they thought there was another fish and told me they were be more colorful if they felt threatened.

My brothers were very curious. We all stared into the tanks, mesmerized by the bubbles. I was happy to let them stay in my room and watch the little fish swim back and forth.

“They want to mate,” Victor said. He was always savvy when it came to nature. I let him lift the glass just long enough for the fish to come together then he put it back.

After a week, small bubbles lined the bottom of the tank.

My brother, Victor said, “Those are eggs.”

He was right. Before long, the eggs began to flicker. A tiny fish emerged and floated to the top.

“They’re hatching!” I yelled.

My brothers came running in and we watched the eggs hatch one by one. Then my brother Victor noticed the mother trying to eat some.

He said, “Quick. We have to get them out.”

Victor grabbed a net and scooped them out of the tank into a small bowl. He managed to save half of the tiny fish.

When they were big enough, he took me back to the pet store, where we received fifty cents for each fighter fish and we were in the fish business.

Of course, he wanted half the money, so I gave it to him. I think he earned it. After a while, I got tired of our fish and gave them to him.

 

 

More than fish, I always loved horses. My favorite book had pictures of wild horses and I kept it next to statues I bought with the money I saved from selling fish. I had nine beautiful horse statues, some were on four legs, and others reared up. It was quite a collection and my brother Dom loved them. Every time I bought a new horse, he came to see. When I lost interest, I let him have the whole thing. He was so happy.

When he grew up, he built a showcase for the horse collection that stretched from wall to wall in his living room. It had glass shelves with mirrors in the back. He even put in lights.

Sometimes, I wished I would have kept my horses, but he did good. When you were a little girl, we used to go and visit him. Maybe you remember the horses, but I think you liked the candy more. He always had a big dish set out on the coffee table. Boy, you and your brother went to town on that!