I keep hearing her sultry voice, fueled by jealousy and an overweening confidence.

'I win,'� she says, taunting over and over.

I fell for Jason, which is unlike me. Bad past experiences eliminated my desires. I survive in a state of cynical complacence. Yet somehow Jason managed to light a flame in that dark recess where my passion once resided.

Back then I'd seen him around. He looked dreamy, but Tiffany disagreed.

'Merely another geek number-cruncher from market research,'� she said, 'Kind of oblivious.'�

As if she knew anything. I suspect Jason just didn't notice her enough.

Our first real meeting was that office party. Since our birthdays fell less than a week apart, we became the focus of a shared celebration. He smiled from across the crowded room, and later even whispered, 'guess what I'm wishing'� in my ear before we blew out candles together.

Somehow he wound up in the cab with me, and next thing, he's on my sofa and we're kissing to some Kate Bush songs. Nothing happened, but it was romantic: two burnt-out Pisces crashed in a near-embrace. He promised to call, but then he changed jobs and moved and it always was something.

'My life is too crazy'� he said, perhaps hinting I should help simplify it.

I thought that was the end. Jason was working for some huge Wall Street brokerage while I kept keying in useless data from container statements out of Port Elizabeth.

'Inventory is important,'� my boss reminded me. 'Without you, no one knows what we have.'�

As if you couldn't train a monkey to do it.

My daily life was a chain of nonsensical routine, mornings at the gym, yoga class Tuesday nights. One evening he shows up unannounced with a dozen long stem roses (white for friendship, but still cool). Over tea we sat and talked 'til late became early. When I got up I couldn't believe the clock.

Smart, funny and weird, Jason wasn't your standard issue jerk. At this animation festival premiere, I suddenly realized destiny wanted us together. People in black were eating canapés off silver trays and I saw us then as others did, a happy semi-dysfunctional couple. It made me warm inside.

The story was this: wonderful food, amazing conversations and superb sex (which seemed to follow the conversations, as there's only so much talking one can do). For the first time, I felt part of something real and lasting.

While we spent most of our time at my place, it was natural he'd ask me to apartment-sit while away on business in Japan. I'd spend the night so he could show me everything before leaving, then stay the week.
I saw how his place was mine's opposite: industrial decor, black marble and polished chrome, large and organized. Everything seemed to have a sharp edge. And the centerpiece: a giant aquarium.

Jason loved his fish.

'They relax me,'� he said. 'After a hard day, I watch for hours.'�

I looked at this enormous glass seascape, the coral and neon colors. One fish chased air bubbles.

'What's that?'� I asked.

'My prize powder-blue tang,'� he said. 'I call her Nikki.'�

I put my face close to get a better view when Nikki started thrashing, attacking the glass.

'Strange,'� Jason said. 'Must be reacting to the blue of your eyes.'�

We went over his long typed-up list. I'd check water temperature, Ph levels, and the filter. Food choices would be frequent and varied (live, frozen and prepared formulas) as per specific directions. For someone who managed to destroy every plant she ever owned, it seemed too much responsibility. Still, it only was a week. I nodded and urged him to bed.

That night in strange dreams, I first heard the voice.

'You aren't welcome,'� she said. 'Go away.'�

Next morning I thought nothing of it, busy helping Jason make his flight. I called in sick, eager to study assigned duties.

By the soft hum of fluorescent lights, I did as instructed and all seemed happy at 78 degrees in this watery microcosm. But none of his directives gave the necessary clues I learned after the fact. When a powder blue tang develops light stripes across its body and head, it is looking for a fight. The second Jason left, Nikki was on the warpath.

That first night, four were dead: a yellow tang, two chevrons and a flame angel. I blamed myself, thinking it related to the feedings (too much brine shrimp or grindal worms?). As I fished their floating bodies out and flushed them away, I wasn't sure Jason would be forgiving.

A fitful night didn't prepare me for the morning's carnage: two wrasses, some sort of eel and a large black spotted puffer. Nikki seemed to be smiling. I spent the morning talking to local pet shops; I even logged onto a pet fish chat room during lunch. I learned about the stripes and the blue powder tang's territorial aggression.

In my head, that voice again, laughing.

By the fourth day, Nikki has killed everything, over five hundred dollars of dead marine life leaving her sole resident of this spacious aquarium. She swims unfettered, victorious. This five-inch nemesis, black head and deep blue body, also has murdered my only chance at long-term happiness. Jason won't believe it; what happened under my watch becomes my fault.

I pack my bags the night before he's due back; I haven't been able to tell him. What can one say? It's already long distance, best to keep it short and sweet.

The little things do us in; the smallest cracks topple a foundation. Against my nature, I cry: grieving what's lost.

'I win,'� says the voice in my head.

Before I leave, it takes a minute to scoop the flailing Nikki into the net, then into the bathroom off the front hall.

'No one wins,'� I say, watching her spiral out of sight along with my expectations.


Copyright Gary Glauber 2003 - Originally published in Cenotaph, Issue #12.

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