Read Online Imaginary Foe by Shannon Leahy - Free Book Online Page A

with unabashed passion. Thankfully, we haven’t seen the dirty old man again. Our make-out sessions are getting more and more intense. Rhonda now rubs my pants with her hand and she lets me fondle her breasts over her shirt. Once, things got a bit too much for me and I had to run off into the trees. At school, during lunchtime, we try to find private spots where we can make out, but we’re not always successful; by the time the end of the day comes around, we’re well and truly ready for each other.
    I’ve set myself up in the backyard with a beach towel and I’m lying back reading The Outsider by Albert Camus. But I’m not really taking any of it in. I’ve read the same paragraph at least eight times now. Meursault is swimming with Marie. He’s turned on and so my thoughts drift to images of Rhonda in a bathing suit. She would look incredible. Her snow white thighs would be unbelievable. I was gonna have to take her swimming soon. Then my thoughts meander on to, of all things, memories of pet goldfish. I had fish when I was younger, but they all died of various causes, with varying degrees of discomfort. One of the more harrowing deaths I can recall is Crispin’s.
    I came out of my bedroom one morning to find Crispin lying on the floor in front of the fish tank. I quickly picked him up and placed him gently back into the water. To my distress, all that poor Crispin could manage to do was to drift backwards on the pathetic current generated by the filter. I thought I could see the sadness in his little eyes. He looked to be in a lot of pain. His scales were all worn from flipping himself over and over on the carpet during the night. I wondered how long he’d been out of the tank and tore myself up for not having got out of bed earlier. When the rest of the family woke up, I told them about Crispin’s ordeal.
    Dad looked at Crispin drifting backwards in the tank and told me that he’d have to kill Crispin to put him out of his misery. A split second later, without giving me any time to consider the situation, Dad pushed up his sleeve, plunged his hand into the water and grabbed Crispin’s tiny ravaged body. He took him outside, leaving a trail of water all the way to the wood block. He put him on the block, grabbed the axe and chopped his head off. Just like that. There lay Crispin in two parts – decapitated. I saw everything from inside. Dad began to make his way back to the house. Just as he did so, Bruce came out from behind the shed, picked up the axe and swung it at him. He missed by centimetres.
    I was so damn angry. Who would do such a barbaric thing? Dad came inside, grabbed me by the shoulders and said, ‘I’m sorry, Stan. It’s for the best, though.’ He ruffled my hair, sat down at the breakfast bench and picked up the paper. I stood where I was, unable to move.
    About half a minute later, Dad said, ‘So, what’s for breakfast, Peggy?’
    ‘Bacon and eggs.’
    ‘Terrific!’
    I was appalled at how my father had killed poor Crispin in such a violent way and I was equally appalled about his blatant disregard for my feelings. He acted as if the whole thing was nothing out of the ordinary and I was expected to get over it straight away. I went to my bedroom, where I could cry and cry and cry. Bruce was there. ‘Your father is a savage! One day, we’re gonna teach him a lesson!’
    On that day, I swore I’d never get any fish ever again – there were just too many deaths to deal with. But that was then and this is now. Now that I’m older, I can look after them properly. I think I want some Japanese koi. Koi are bigger than goldfish and they’re more robust too, with a longer life span. A koi could just about take care of itself. Two of them would do. I could put them in a huge tank and watch them grow.
    I get so caught up in the idea of getting some fish that I decide to call Rhonda and tell her about it. I dash inside and pick up the phone. I realise that someone else is already on the