During dinner, I told my family about Crystal Light’s funeral. “I know I should have asked permission before I invited everyone over,” I said. “But I was in a hurry. The funeral will be tomorrow. I wanted to make sure my friends could come. I hope that’s all right.”
“It’s all right with me,” said David Michael crossly. (He was still mad that I had called him a fish-killer.) “That little white box is getting smelly. I can hardly go into the playroom anymore…. But I do go in to take care of Goldfishie,” he added hastily. He looked at Andrew. Then he went on, “We have to keep the door to the playroom closed. Otherwise this whole house would be stinky.”
I almost said something really mean to David Michael. After all, it was his fault the playroom was stinky. Instead, I just narrowed my eyes at him. I gave him a mean-snake look.
Then I glanced around at the rest of my family. “At the funeral,” I went on, “I think we should have music. So I will ask Natalie Springer to bring her violin. I will make the other funeral plans tonight. Oh, by the way, you are all invited to the funeral … except for David Michael.”
“What?!” exclaimed David Michael. “How come I’m not invited?”
“Because you are a fish-killer. You killed Crystal Light.”
“Karen,” said Daddy warningly.
“Well, he did!” I cried.
“Did not,” said David Michael.
“Did so, too.”
“Did not so, too.”
“Did too, did too!”
“Did not, did not!”
“All right!” said Daddy in a loud voice. His voice was so loud that he scared both Emily Michelle and Boo-Boo. Emily began to cry. Boo-Boo jumped a mile. Then he ran out of the kitchen. He skittered once on the slippery floor.
“Karen,” Daddy went on. “You know very well that David Michael took good care of your fish.”
“Oh, yeah? Then why is Crystal Light dead?” I asked.
“And smelly,” muttered David Michael.
“I don’t know,” replied Daddy. “But Goldfishie is still alive and healthy. David Michael must be doing something right.”
“Well, he did one thing wrong.”
Kristy spoke up then. “Karen, I don’t think you’re being fair. I live here — ”
“So do I,” I interrupted.
“I know, but I mean I live here all the time,” said Kristy patiently. “And I saw how carefully David Michael took care of the fish.”
“Oh, you’re just saying that because David Michael is your real brother.”
“Karen,” said Elizabeth, “in this house, you kids are all ‘real’ brothers and sisters, whether you have the same parents or not, or whether you’re adopted.”
“I don’t care,” I replied. “David Michael is a fish-killer, fish-killer, fish-killer.”
Daddy stood up suddenly. (Uh-oh. That was a bad sign.) “Karen, go to your room this moment,” he said. “You may stay there for half an hour.”
Who Did Swallow Jonah?
I huffed upstairs to my room. With every step, I whispered, “Fish-killer, fish-killer, fish-killer.” But I did not really mind my punishment.
I needed some quiet time in my room to plan Crystal Light’s funeral. So as soon as I got there, I slammed the door shut. (I hoped Daddy heard that downstairs.) Then I sat at my table. I picked up a pencil. I began writing on a pad of paper.
Music. I had to have music for Crystal Light. As soon as my punishment was over, I would call Natalie Springer and tell her to bring her violin to the funeral. Who cares if the only song she can play is “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star”? Not me.
After Music I wrote down Speech. Somebody should make a gigundo nice speech about Crystal Light. Isn’t that what people usually do at funerals? Someone makes a speech and says how the person who died was honest and helpful and liked children and stuff. I should really be the one to make Crystal Light’s speech. But I did not think I could do it without crying. I did not want to cry in front of the kids in my class. Especially Pamela, Leslie, and Jannie. When I was allowed to leave the room, I would ask Kristy if she would make a speech about Crystal Light.
Okay. Music and Speech were taken care of. Next I wrote down Song. I thought it would be nice if everyone sang a song for Crystal Light. It should be a song about a fish, of course. For the longest time, I just sat at my table and thought. There must not be very many songs about fish. Finally I remembered part of a song that Daddy used to sing to Andrew and me. It went: Out in a meadow in a tiny-bitty pool fam fee itty fitties and their mama fitty, too. “Fim!” said the mama fitty …
I trailed off. That did not sound quite right. Besides, it was much too silly a song for a sad, sad funeral.
I thought some more. The only other fish song I could come up with was one about Jonah and the whale. Our class had learned it in music that year. The first part of the song asks a question: Who did, who did, who did, who did, who did swallow Jonah UP? (The song is really much longer than that.) The second part of the song answers the question: Whale did, whale did, whale did, whale did, whale did swallow Jonah DOWN!
That song was sort of silly, too, but not nearly as silly as the one about the itty fitties. I decided it would be okay for Crystal Light’s funeral. Besides, everyone in my class would know it.
The next thing I wrote on my pad of paper was Burial. I wanted to bury Crystal Light in her box next to Louie’s cross. Her box would have to be very pretty. Tomorrow I would decorate it. I wished I could decorate it right now, but the box and Crystal Light were in the playroom.
Also, I would need someone to dig a hole to bury the box in. Maybe Sam or Charlie could do that. And, of course, I would need a tombstone. I would have to find one tomorrow. I would look for a nice flat rock. Then I would clean it up. Then I would write something on it. But what?
Maybe CRYSTAL LIGHT, R.I.P.
Or CRYSTAL LIGHT, ONLY ABOUT TWO WEEKS OLD.
Or CRYSTAL LIGHT — HER LIFE WAS SNUFFED OUT BY A FISH-KILLER.
That last one sounded dramatic. I liked it. I would decide tomorrow, though. Right now, my half an hour was almost up. I had lots of phone calls to make. It would be a busy evening.
Violins and Flowers
“Karen!” I heard Daddy call.
“Yes?”
“You may come out of your room now.”
“Thank you,” I replied.
Daddy was standing at the bottom of the stairs. I leaned over the railing in the hall outside my room. “May I make some private phone calls?” I asked Daddy. “May I use the phone in your room?”
“Yes,” Daddy replied. (My punishment was over, but Daddy did not sound very happy with me. Maybe that was because I had not apologized to David Michael.)
Well, I was not going to apologize to a fish-killer. So I just said, “Thanks.”
I walked down the hall to Daddy and Elizabeth’s bedroom. I went inside and closed the door behind me. Then I flung myself across the bed. (That is a good position for talking on the phone.)
I called Natalie. “Can you play ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star’ at Crystal Light’s funeral tomorrow?”
“Oh! Yes!” exclaimed Natalie. I could tell that she was happy I had asked her to play. In fact, Natalie was so happy that she began to cry. When she cries, she snorts. (This is a problem with Natalie. She cried and snorted when Ricky Torres and I got married. Oh, well. That is just the way Natalie is.)
Before we got off the phone, I said, “Oh, and bring a flower with you. And wear black, Natalie.”
Then I called some of the kids in the big-house neighborhood. I invited them to the funeral. I told each one, “Bring a flower and wear black.” The funeral was going to be very sad and somber.
I was just finishing up a call when I realized something. I had invited the kids in my class to Crystal Light’s funeral. But I had not told them to wear black or to bring a flower.
So I made a list of all the kids in my class. I split it into three smaller lists. I called Nancy and ask
ed her if she would mind calling the kids on one list. I called Hannie and asked her to call the kids on the second list. (I would take care of the third list myself.) I said to both Hannie and Nancy, “Tell everyone to wear black and to bring a flower. The flower can be paper if they can’t find a real one.”
Finally all of my calls had been made. I was gigundo tired. But I went to bed feeling good. Tomorrow, Crystal Light would have a very, very nice funeral.
“NO!”
The next morning, I jumped out of bed. Boy, did I have a lot to do that day. First, I found Kristy. She was in her bedroom. She was still in her pajamas.
“ ’Morning,” she said when she saw me. (She did not sound mad. I hoped that she had forgiven me for the fish-killer fight.)
“ ’Morning,” I replied. “Kristy? I have to ask you something important. Will you make a speech at Crystal Light’s funeral this afternoon?”
“A speech?” repeated Kristy.
“Yes. One about what a terrific fish Crystal Light was. I don’t want to do it because I’m afraid I will start to cry. And I don’t want to cry in front of all my friends.”
“Shall I say …? Hmm. I don’t know. But I will think of something,” Kristy told me. “I’ll think of nice things about Crystal Light.”
Just hearing that made me cry. I could tell that the day was going to be very difficult. But I could handle it.
“Thank you,” I said to Kristy. Then I left her room, sniffling.
The next thing I had to do was decorate Crystal Light’s coffin. As more tears rolled down my cheeks, I thought about how yesterday I had decided that the coffin should look pretty. Now I was thinking that black is the color for funerals. Should I decorate Crystal Light’s coffin with black designs?
No. Crystal Light was so shiny and pretty herself that she would want a colorful coffin. I was pretty sure of that.
I sat at my table with the coffin and a box of crayons. I thought for a long time. Finally I colored a rainbow on the lid of the box. It looked so beautiful that I began to cry again.
But I couldn’t stop to cry for long. Now it was time to make a headstone for my poor, dead fish. I ran into our backyard. Then I slowed down. I walked around the yard. I looked carefully for a flat rock. I found lots of pebbles and stones. But a flat rock was harder to find. When I did find one, it was half buried in dirt and old leaves. So I took it inside and washed it in the kitchen sink.
I waited for it to dry. Then I put these words on it, in white paint:
The headstone was perfect, so I cried some more.
But I still had lots of work to do. I showed the headstone to Charlie. “Would you dig a grave for Crystal Light?” I asked him. “I want her to be buried next to Louie’s cross. Here is her headstone.”
“Okay,” said Charlie.
“Thank you,” I replied. “Now remember. The funeral is at two o’clock. Everyone will be wearing black. And you should bring a flower.”
“Okay,” Charlie said again.
Then I had to find everybody else at the big house and tell them to wear black and bring flowers.
When I got to Elizabeth, I said, “And can you dress Emily in black and give her a flower to carry?”
Elizabeth said she would.
Okay. I had told everyone about the flowers and what to wear. Everyone except David Michael. But he knew what I was doing.
“Karen?” he said to me at lunchtime. “Can I please come to the funeral?”
“NO!” I cried.
David Michael looked hurt. At first, I thought he might tattle. But then I knew that he wouldn’t. This was a problem between David Michael and me. We did not want any of the grown-ups to be part of it.
Crystal Light’s Funeral
It was a quarter to two. Everything and everybody was ready for the funeral. I was pleased. The big-house people were all in black, just like they had promised. Even Emily. And even David Michael. (I hoped he was not going to crash the funeral.) I was wearing my mourning outfit, including the hat and veil. I did not need to pretend to look sad, since I had cried all morning.
My family and I went outdoors. (David Michael was nowhere in sight.) A few moments later, Hannie and her brother, Linny, came over. Then Amanda and Max Delaney. By two o’clock, all of the neighborhood kids had arrived. About half of my class had arrived, too. I was relieved. Pamela, Leslie, and Jannie had not come.
I waited until five minutes after two. Then I stood in front of the crowd of people. I was holding Crystal Light in her coffin.
“Thank you for coming,” I said to everyone. “And thank you for wearing black and bringing flowers.” (Only a few kids had forgotten flowers.) “Crystal Light would have loved this,” I went on. Then I said, “Okay, the funeral’s beginning now. First, we will have some music by Natalie Springer.”
Natalie was standing at the edge of the crowd. Her violin was in her hands. She stepped up beside me.
Screetch, screetch, scratch, scratch, went the violin. About halfway through the song I heard another sound: Screetch, screetch, snort, snort.
Natalie was crying. Oh, well.
As soon as the song was over, I thanked Natalie. I sent her back to the crowd. Then I called Kristy up front.
“And now,” I said, “my sister Kristy has a speech about Crystal Light.”
“Thank you,” said Kristy. She was standing beside the tiny grave that Charlie had dug. “Today,” she began, looking gigundo serious, “we mourn the loss of Crystal Light, a very special goldfish. For those of you who did not know her, Crystal Light was an excellent swimmer. She was graceful in the water. And she was pretty. It is no wonder that Karen called her ‘Crystal Light, my delight.’ ”
I thought I would start crying when Kristy said that, but I did not. Ricky was looking at me. So were some other kids. I held in my tears. But I did not hear the rest of Kristy’s speech.
When Kristy was finished, I asked everyone to sing “Who Did Swallow Jonah?” Only the kids in my class knew the song, though. They were sort of embarrassed to sing it by themselves. So the song sounded weak.
I tried to sing loudly to make up for this. “WHALE DID SWALLOW JONAH DOWN!” I yelled out the last line of the song.
“And now,” I said, when everyone was quiet, “it is time to bury my dear little goldfish, Crystal Light.”
I stepped over to the grave. Very gently, I set the white box in it. I looked at the rainbow one last time. Then I buried the box with the dirt Charlie had dug up. (It was in a pile next to the grave.)
“I hope you will be happy here,” I whispered. “Or in fish heaven. Or wherever you go.”
And then I did start to cry. But it was all right. My friends could not see me. My back was to them. I sort of had to take my time with the burying, though. I had to wait until my tears had dried. I could not brush them away because my hands were too dirty.
At last I was finished.
“Charlie?” I said.
Charlie stepped forward. He knew what to do. He drove the headstone into the ground. Now Crystal Light’s headstone was next to Louie’s cross.
And Crystal Light was really gone.
The End
Crystal Light was gone, but the funeral was not over. I wanted my fish’s grave to look as pretty as the coffin. As pretty as Crystal Light. That morning, I had taken some of the gravel was bright blue. I had put it in a plastic bag and hidden the bag in the bushes.
Now I found the bag and opened it up. I poured the gravel over Crystal Light’s grave. It looked like the bottom of the ocean. Perfect.
I turned to the people who had been watching me. “Thank you all for coming,” I said. “The funeral is over now. As you leave, would you please put your flowers on top of the gravel? Thank you again.”
Somehow, everyone formed a line. They filed past Crystal Light’s grave, dropping their flowers on it. Most of the flowers were paper, but that was okay. They were very colorful.
My big-house family went inside.
The kids lef
t — except for Hannie and Nancy. I wanted the Three Musketeers to be together. I needed my best friends.
We stood looking at the grave. It was covered with a huge mound of flowers. For awhile, we just stared at them. Then I said, “I guess it’s over. The end. Crystal Light would have wanted it this way.”
“I think so, too,” said Nancy.
“So do I,” said Hannie.
“It really is beautiful,” I added.
“Yup,” said Nancy.
“Yup,” said Hannie.
We were not sure what to say to each other. Or, at least, Hannie and Nancy were not sure what to say to me. That was okay. I understood. Sometimes it is hard to know what to say to someone when that person is feeling sad.
After a long time, Nancy spoke up. “Karen, you didn’t cry at the funeral today.”
“Yes, I did. You just didn’t see me,” I replied.
“Oh,” said Nancy. “Well, that is good. You should be able to cry, especially with your friends. When my grandfather died, our family sat shiva for a week.” (Nancy and her family are Jewish.)
“What’s shiva?” asked Hannie.
“It’s a time when your relatives and friends come over. Daddy said it was a time when we could grieve for Papa. You know, feel bad about him. And our friends helped us. Just by being there.”
I was thinking about what Nancy was saying when a voice called to us from somewhere.
“Hey, Karen! Hey, you guys!”
It was David Michael’s voice. But I could not see him anywhere.
“That’s David Michael,” I whispered to Hannie and Nancy.
“Where is he?” asked Hannie. “And why are you whispering?”
“I’m not sure where he is. And I’m whispering because David Michael is probably up to something. I wouldn’t let him come to the funeral.”
“Because he’s a fish-killer?” Nancy wanted to know.
Karen's Goldfish Page 3
