the tropical fish area, which is arranged in a massive water-maze: the walls are actual, clear tanks that extend from the floor to the ceiling. There aren’t plaques specifying species or anything, just one big ocean world where the multi-colored fish swim in and out of the protruding walls. The speakers run ambient music and muffled underwater noises to compliment the overall ethereal quality. Every now and then, a soothing woman’s voice comes over the music and talks about the species swimming along the walls. She has a British accent. I ask Ally if British people know more about marine life than Americans. She says, “Yeah they probably do.”
I watch kids run behind the protruding glass walls; their images become blurred and distorted. There’s a little kid behind me, blowing on the glass with his lips suctioned to it. I smile at the thought of these kids trapped like fish.
The next room has touch tanks and more kids run around, playing tag and yelling while their parents stand oblivious. Futuristic podiums jut out of the floor, each one supporting a large Petri dish of sea life. I touch a sea anemone. There’s a slight suction and its little arms curl around my finger. On the other side of the room, a wild kid lets out a piercing scream that causes me to jerk my hand back, pulling the anemone out with it. The creature lets go of my finger and drops to the carpet. Ally stifles a giggle. I hurry to put it back in the dish, hoping that it’s not dead.
We walk over to the screaming kid and see that the Petri dish is full of urchins. He’s sucking on his finger, his cheeks vacuumed in for maximum healing effect. He must have poked himself on one of the sharp spikes. I dare Ally to touch one of them.
“Aren’t they venomous?” she asks.
“You think they would let you touch venomous animals?”
Ally points to the CAUTION sign and shrugs. “I don’t know. Some people can be evil. It could be a trick.”
“Like some evil genius uses this aquarium as a front to kill people with his deadly urchins?”
“Something like that.”
“Awesome.” I look down at the urchin and decide that it’s actually not such a far-fetched scheme.
“Fine,” Ally says, “I’m going to touch it, but if I die it’s your fault.”
She lowers her hand slowly into the dish, fingers spread and palm-down. While her attention is focused on her hand, I take advantage of the opportunity to look at her body. Barely visible through her sweatshirt, the slight swelling excites my imagination. I almost forget about the urchin. My eyes move up toward her face, but not before noticing the milky-whiteness of her skinny neck poking out of the baggy sweatshirt. A neck that would be beautiful to strangle, I think before quickly adding, in a Dario Argento film.
She looks afraid to take the plunge. The stalling gives me more time to study her. Besides a few acne blemishes, her face is perfect. Her glasses have slid down her nose and I want, with all my being, to push them up for her. I also want to tuck her hair behind her ears, and then kiss her. Maybe I would like to feel her up, moving into a private bathroom where she would wrap her legs around me and I would carry her into a stall, unzipping her hoodie and. …
She yelps. She pulls her hand out of the water and shakes it dry before sticking her finger in her mouth like the kid earlier. She grimaces at the taste. She coughs. She puts her other hand up to her neck and her eyes roll back, white.
“Ally?” I reach out to grab her shoulder, but she falls right on me. I ease her on the floor.
I look around to see if anybody’s watching. One of the kids stares in amazement. “You’re not fooling me.”
Her gagging quickly becomes laughter. “I totally had you.”
“Not for a second,” I say. “I can’t believe I let you be in my movies. “
She gets up and brushes herself off. “Whatever. When your movie wins for best acting in the talent show, you can thank me.”
Before
I watch kids run behind the protruding glass walls; their images become blurred and distorted. There’s a little kid behind me, blowing on the glass with his lips suctioned to it. I smile at the thought of these kids trapped like fish.
The next room has touch tanks and more kids run around, playing tag and yelling while their parents stand oblivious. Futuristic podiums jut out of the floor, each one supporting a large Petri dish of sea life. I touch a sea anemone. There’s a slight suction and its little arms curl around my finger. On the other side of the room, a wild kid lets out a piercing scream that causes me to jerk my hand back, pulling the anemone out with it. The creature lets go of my finger and drops to the carpet. Ally stifles a giggle. I hurry to put it back in the dish, hoping that it’s not dead.
We walk over to the screaming kid and see that the Petri dish is full of urchins. He’s sucking on his finger, his cheeks vacuumed in for maximum healing effect. He must have poked himself on one of the sharp spikes. I dare Ally to touch one of them.
“Aren’t they venomous?” she asks.
“You think they would let you touch venomous animals?”
Ally points to the CAUTION sign and shrugs. “I don’t know. Some people can be evil. It could be a trick.”
“Like some evil genius uses this aquarium as a front to kill people with his deadly urchins?”
“Something like that.”
“Awesome.” I look down at the urchin and decide that it’s actually not such a far-fetched scheme.
“Fine,” Ally says, “I’m going to touch it, but if I die it’s your fault.”
She lowers her hand slowly into the dish, fingers spread and palm-down. While her attention is focused on her hand, I take advantage of the opportunity to look at her body. Barely visible through her sweatshirt, the slight swelling excites my imagination. I almost forget about the urchin. My eyes move up toward her face, but not before noticing the milky-whiteness of her skinny neck poking out of the baggy sweatshirt. A neck that would be beautiful to strangle, I think before quickly adding, in a Dario Argento film.
She looks afraid to take the plunge. The stalling gives me more time to study her. Besides a few acne blemishes, her face is perfect. Her glasses have slid down her nose and I want, with all my being, to push them up for her. I also want to tuck her hair behind her ears, and then kiss her. Maybe I would like to feel her up, moving into a private bathroom where she would wrap her legs around me and I would carry her into a stall, unzipping her hoodie and. …
She yelps. She pulls her hand out of the water and shakes it dry before sticking her finger in her mouth like the kid earlier. She grimaces at the taste. She coughs. She puts her other hand up to her neck and her eyes roll back, white.
“Ally?” I reach out to grab her shoulder, but she falls right on me. I ease her on the floor.
I look around to see if anybody’s watching. One of the kids stares in amazement. “You’re not fooling me.”
Her gagging quickly becomes laughter. “I totally had you.”
“Not for a second,” I say. “I can’t believe I let you be in my movies. “
She gets up and brushes herself off. “Whatever. When your movie wins for best acting in the talent show, you can thank me.”
Before
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