Fish out of Water Ch. 01

Nailing a job at the big fishery in town was a good way to start off the summer of 2010. I didn't know much about the fish, but that wasn't my job. My job was the chemistry of the business, and that's the way I liked it to be. Throughout high school, my chemistry and physics teachers would make jokes about the other side of the science wing, where the biologists kept what one of my teachers called "bullshit." I guess I kept that thinking, and throughout college I took the biology classes but chemistry was my thing. It made sense. It was for the most part black and white. Ecology, from what wafted to my office while I was at work, was not black and white.

Regardless of whether I was a biology person or not, that summer I made a huge decision. Very unlike me. I decided to get a goldfish. This was totally out of line for me, since in the past I was unable to keep various plants alive. I shared a lizard with my roommate for a short while in college—that is, until he escaped.

I was lonely I guess. I think some part of me thought it would be very "urban." Very "vogue." My apartment was cluttered for the most part, but I thought getting a goldfish would help my feng shui, or what little of it was present at least. I went to a local IKEA and sifted through the large vases they had. I came across one about two feet tall, rectangular, pretty narrow.

"Feng shui, here I come," I thought.

I carted it up my apartment, filled it with water and went to bed that night with a smile on my face. My toes, the pink chipping off on my toenails, wiggled under the sheets. Tomorrow would be the day I finally went to the local pet store. Noah's Ark. Noah was big time friends with my crazy lesbian aunt. She had more cats then were probably considered normal, and spent a lot of time there. Unlike me, she went to college to study zoology. I didn't go there often (like I said, I avoid living things, that aren't able to take care of themselves, as much as possible) but I was dreading running across her there. As far as I was concerned, she had become a cat.

Walking in, I was already uncomfortable. The place smelled like litter and animals. Noah's employees, in their green uniforms, milled around with big smiles, approaching customers who looked lost. I tried my best not to look lost, but much to my dismay, a young woman handling a gecko swooped down.

"Hi! My name is Claire! Can I do my best to help you find something?" The gecko eyed me, and obviously sensed I wasn't a living things type of gal.

"Uh. Um. Fish?" I stuttered.

"Sure thing! The fish section is in the back. Big sign that says aquatic. Look for a tiny guy named Dean, he should be able to help you. Hard to miss, red hair, loud personality."

"Um. Okay thanks."

I found my way to the fish section, but this guy Dean wasn't anywhere to be found. I thought that seemed fishy, pardon my pun, but until then I hadn't been at such a shortage of employee help. I wandered around the deserted section.

"Aquatic plants, nope. Saltwater, nope. Tropical Fish, nope." At the end were pond fish, and I certainly didn't want a twelve inch koi fish. That definitely screamed bad feng shui. I passed several tanks of frilly looking goldfish. They were stunning but the first thing that came to mind was "high maintenance." At the very corner of the room was the tank of comets. Feeder fish. I knew that much.

"Um,"

A deep voice coughed behind me and I jumped in place. Turning around I faced what couldn't be Dean and reading the name tag pinned to the same green polo shirt as all the others, read "Jack," affirming my assumptions. He was a good foot and a half taller than me, maybe a few years older too. Broad linebacker shoulders. This Jack guy wasn't awkwardly muscly as far as I could tell, but the kind of lumberjack type who's good at giving hugs. That is, if his body language allowed him to be intimate. He stood stiff in front of me. His dark, curly hair was pulled in a short, loose ponytail and his beard needed a good trimming. His eyes were dark, almost black and light freckles dusted the tops of his high cheekbones. His arms were covered in tattoos, maybe tribal—

Shit. I was staring. Shit. He waved his hand in front of my glazed eyes.

"Hey. You stoned or something lady? I was just checking to see if you, uh—"

"Needed help?" I squeaked.

"Yeah. Do you need help?"

"Uh. Feeder fish. Do you have feeder fish?"

"Right in front of you." He rubbed the back of his head with his hand, and a tattoo of the Sydney opera house on his wrist peeked out from under his watch.

"Yeah. I was thinking of getting one."

"We sell them in bulk." He was getting irritated, I could tell.

"Um," my lip quivered, "I just want one."

"Lady, you're not one of those chicks who buys a feeder fish in hopes of saving it, are you? Let me tell you, that's a bad idea. Most of these guys aren't bred to live long and you'll be disappointed. If not for bad genes, they've got some sort of illness or ailment." His eyelids fluttered, he looked tired. This weakness gave me courage. I wasn't good with animals, but I could work with people.

"This isn't your only job, is it... Jack?"

His eyes popped opened and he smirked, "No, actually. I work construction on the weekends to make up for the lack of money in the... domesticated animal retail business."

Even I laughed at that.

"So what'll it be then if not a comet... uh..."

"Ruth. Ruth's the name. And I'm not sure, I'm not too great with—"

"Living things?"

"Yeah, actually. I'm a chemist."

"I could tell a mile away." His deadpan expression was killing me but I could live with his all too appealing body. He led me back to the tanks of what I had labeled "high maintenance fish." The orange and white beauties fluttered around the tank. Jack pressed one set of fingertips against the glass and sighed.

"Love these guys."

"Um. Yeah. They're cool." I wiped my palm against my face, wicking up the sweat that was a product of this whole experience.

"What kind of setup do you have, Ruthie?"

"Uh, Ruth, actually. I have an, um, glass thing."

"A what, sorry?" His hand dropped from the tank.

"Well, it's kind of like a vase, but it's like a floor vase. Very urban."

"Urban?"

"Yeah." I detected anger and that was all I needed in this interaction.

"Ruthie, let me tell you something. Goldfish need a lot of space," shit, "Some experts say twenty gallons for the first and ten for each fish after that. Some say a gallon per inch" at this point I eyed the fish. Shit. These guys were at least two inches. I definitely didn't have room for any growth. Jack saw me thinking and paused.

"You follow?" he resumed. I blinked a couple times and focused on his lips. They were pink like all lips, but he had a freckle on his lower lip that I found extremely distracting.

"I mean," He went on, "You could play it safe and go with ten gallons for each fish."

"I don't know. That seems like a lot of money."

"We have a sale. Fifty percent off. Noah's switching to a new supply company and has to sell all the old tanks." He waggled his eyebrows and elbowed me, "How about it?"

I sighed, "I'm gonna sleep on it." He looked deflated, but his only response was a shrug.

"Suit yourself."

I went home and that night I had awful dreams. When I say awful, I mean naughty. Now let me preface by saying I'm not your regular dollface. I don't normally let myself get whisked away by fantasies, but that night I did. I dreamed about Jack. I dreamed that I was in a massive tank, and it had only a couple inches of water at the bottom. Jack was standing at one end, completely naked. He had tattoos even on skin I hadn't seen, but that wasn't what made my jaw drop. It was what was under the ink. His light skin stretched against his frame, and dark hair accentuated his chest, and his pelvic area, trailing down to his crotch. His cock was stiff, jutting from the dark hair, dark with erection. His nipples popped from the spans of his chest and he teased them, looking at me. Slowly he sloshed across the tank until he was close enough to touch me. I was naked too, and he soaked me in with his eyes. He grazed his hands across my arms, and moved closer. He licked his lips, winked at me, and moved closer until—

It was then that I woke up. "Shit," I muttered. Was that really how I saw him? "He was too gay," I whispered, "Definitely." And with that cooling down my arousal, I drifted back to sleep. I couldn't let the snarky pet store guy get to me, no sir.

A call from my brother awoke me in the morning.

"Hey, Ruth, it's David."

"What's up?"

"Listen, have you checked your mail recently?"

"Ugh." I had to roll out of bed for this one. I padded to my kitchen and went through the pile on the table.

"Dad sent something and he was worried you hadn't gotten it."

"Well, actually, I only check my mail once a week, David."

His laugh had a tone of nervousness, "This is kinda big, Ru."

I found the envelope just as he stopped. Ruth Henderson. That's me. I tore open the envelope. A check fell out with a note, reading,

"Ru, you've worked so hard since you've been out of school. Do something new and exciting. Love, Dad." There was no return address.

"Ruth. Ruth you there?"

"Shit."

"You find it?"

"Yeah. You get $1000 too?"

"Yeah. Know what you're going to do with it?"

"Shit. What are you doing?"

"Jenna and I are going to Peru to do some hiking."

I let out a huge breath. I was definitely awake now.

"Back for more of me?" Even in his monotone voice, Jack was flirty today and I tried to push last night's dream out of my mind.

"I'm here to learn today."

"Yeah?" He raised an eyebrow and elbowed me. He really liked doing that, as far as I was concerned.

"I'm here to pick up a tank."

"Hmph. Change your mind?"

"Actually yeah."

"You don't know much more about tanks than you do about living things, do you?"

"No."

And that was the beginning of the end. Jack didn't talk much but he didn't do well to hide his excitement. He led me to the tanks, and at the end of the whole ordeal, I settled on a 200 gallon. Sure you're probably thinking I'm crazy, and this is a rash decision, but it's what my dad's note said and I wasn't gonna screw around. To be honest, I wouldn't have done it if Jack hadn't made me a promise.

Toward the end of the figuring, we sat in the back of the aquatic room on a couple of bar stools. He was quietly calculating, and legs swinging above the ground, I gazed at his tattoos. He stopped fiddling with his notes and looked at me.

"Ruthie, listen, this isn't outside of what my normal job is here, but I can help you situate this bade boy. Noah made it clear when he hired me that if a customer bought a tank of this size, I was to help them establish the ecosystem."

I was suddenly more interested in the loose string on my shorts than what he was saying. His normal tone was replaced by one that seemed concerned.

"It's a pain in the ass, I put on of these bad chads in my parents living room. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'd be willing to help. Worst of all, the stand that comes with the tank isn't preassembled."

"I can do that." I was annoyed. He was degrading me. As if a woman couldn't handle assembling instructions.

"Oh." He sighed.

I felt bad. He really seemed like he wanted to help but our nearness was making me antsy. He smelled like sweat, and tank water, and a sweet musky smell that was doing terrifying things to my stomach.

"I don't have the tools though."

I couldn't believe it. Saturday Jack was coming over to help me set up the stand. Ugh. What was wrong with me? He was obviously too biology-y and unpredictable. I slowly came to the realization that maybe I really wasn't the best with humans.

That afternoon I emptied the "glass thing" and returned it. Jack told me to find a place in my apartment for the stand. It wasn't something that could be unassembled or moved, so I really had to think. I cleaned through my mail to avoid confronting the issue. Then cleaned my bathroom. And my kitchen. I even vacuumed.

Come Saturday I was ready. Or at least I thought. I stood by my apartment door to buzz in Jack. Seconds later he knocked.

Lord Almighty. Before me he wasn't in his normal green polo. He was wearing jeans instead of khakis and a cut off hung loosely from his shoulders. His hair was pulled back like normal and in less eerie lighting I memorized his features. His nose was sharp, with a bump at the bridge. He trimmed his beard, I thought. His eyes were lighter than usual.

"Sup Ruthie." He scratched his jaw.

Ruthie this, Ruthie that. I might as well be a cat or some 1950's character.

"I got some buddies from my weekend job to help me haul this stuff—" He had barely started explaining before three guys appeared at the top of the stairs. Grunting, they pushed us out of the doorway. Jack shrugged.

"My tools are in my truck if you want to bare your arms." I wasn't paying attention to him and I could tell it was driving him nuts.

"The guys will be back to help lift the tank on the stand. It's pretty rigorous, and um, we have these belts..." His attention drifted as his eyes wandered around the room.

"Is that the place?" I nodded. Earlier in the week I had found a place in the living room. He seemed pleased and nodded his head, "Good spot. Not too much natural light." In my head I was dancing. Feng shui here I come.

That night I went to bed smiling again. The stand and tank were up and running. Jack wanted the tank to cycle for a week before introducing the goldfish. I wasn't sure how he was able to contain his excitement. I was excited.

"How aren't you excited?" I was talking to air, but I knew Jack was behind me.

"Oh, Ruthie, I'm excited." I turned to his voice and found him standing behind me. Naked and covered in water like he had just showered. It was my turn to touch him and I traced the droplets, watching them skim down his body. He stretched his arms, and smiled at me.

"You get me real excited."

I woke up. This needed to stop once and for all. I was tired of having wet dreams, literally wet dreams of Jack. Pretty soon he'd be a goldfish. There had to be some psychological problem to it all.