The Amazing Adventures of Silver and Fish

“Fly,” I said, forgetting to use my inside voice. “I can’t find Silver.” Silver was my pet silverfish, who had suddenly gone missing.

“Quiet, you little rascals,” Mrs. Aurora’s voice boomed, shattering the silence in the library. Fly and I were in the Leroy Street local library, where I had come to look for whatever was new in children's fantasy. 

Mrs. Aurora was tall and thin, and always wore a starched blue sari, every fold pressed to perfection. But her eyes. Those are really what made all of us quiver in our Bata shoes. They were a piercing black, and when she got angry, her pupils crackled with little bolts of electricity. 

“Library is meant for reading, not chit-chatting and jibber-jabbering!” she scolded, advancing rapidly towards us, hitching up her sari with one hand, and paddling the air with the other for balance.

“Fly, are you listening? I said. “Silver has disappeared!” I said, through gritted teeth. 

Fly was not listening to me, he was busy giggling at the irony of a librarian shouting for silence. And the words she made up, jibber-jabbering, what was that anyway, made him further collapse with laughter.

“Talking first, laughing now? Mannerless little creatures!” she screamed. “I’ll ban you from Library for a month.” She had a habit of dropping her articles.

The sudden threat of banishment made us stuff our misbehavior down our shirts. Being banned was no fun. “We’re so sorry ma’am,” I said. “Galti ho gayee. It won’t happen again.” I tried to use my Hindi whenever possible to curry favor with Mrs. Aurora. She had a soft spot for kids who could speak our native tongue. Fly looked dutifully at the ground. He couldn’t bring himself to mouth an apology. 

“Go to separate corners and read quietly!” she issued a stern directive. And so that’s what we did. I stayed in the north corner which was dark, with nary a window, hoping to spot Silver, and Fly went to the south corner where the sun poured in through a giant window. He wasn’t interested in books anyway, he had just come along to keep me company.

You’re probably wondering why a boy of eleven would have a silverfish as a pet. I’ll tell you. It’s because my mother would not let me get me a dog. Or a cat. Or a rabbit. Or a turtle. Or a fish. Or an iguana. Chipkalee? She said in horror. Or a mouse. That one elicited a hare raam. I know because I asked. I went through the whole roster of pets and after all the nahins, hais, hare raams and hare krishnas, I realized if I wanted a pet, I’d have to find one myself. And on the night of her final refusal to my last brilliant idea, a frog, whom should I see slithering in my Panchatantra but Silver. I put out my finger, and Silver jumped right on it. He twitched his whiskers, and then jumped right back on the page. And now he always hangs with me, sometimes in the latest book I’m reading, sometimes in my pocket, and sometimes behind my ear. I know he’s there because that’s when it tickles.

Fly thought he was a silly pet to have. “He’s so small, you can barely see him,” he said.

“Exactly,” I replied. “That’s his charm. Mom can’t take away something she can’t see, Fly.” I explained. “In fact,” I lowered my voice to a whisper, “she doesn’t know about him at all.”

But here I was in the library, almost at closing hour, and no sign of Silver. I was starting to see the downsides of both his size and our lack of a clear call and response system. Sigh.

He’s got to be inside one of the books, I reasoned. And he’s little, so he couldn’t have gotten far. So I started picking up each book and examining it, looking for him. Maybe he found a really tasty page, I thought. Who knows. 

I was in Science Fiction, and had just gotten through examining the letter J, turning over all the books of N.K. Jemisin when Mrs. Aurora boomed, “Fifteen minutes to closing.” My heart started beating faster. There’s no way I could leave without Silver, and I hadn’t found him yet. From the corner of my eye, I could see Fly making his way towards me. Edging past New Fiction, New Non-Fiction, and Mystery & Thrillers, finally, he was back in Science Fiction. 

“Let’s get outta here,” whispered Fly.

“I can’t,” I said. “I can’t leave without Silver.”

“Well, you’ve gotta find him in the next fifteen minutes,” said Fly.

“I’m going to try,” I said. “But I’m not sure I can.” I had made up my mind. “I might need to stay here tonight, Fly. And if I do, you’re going to have to help me.”

“And how?” said Fly, always a good friend. He was the kind of guy they have in the movies who can effortlessly create a distraction.

“First, you’re going to have to fool Mrs. Aurora, so she thinks I’ve left with you. Next, I’m going to call Mum and tell her I’m staying the night at your place. If she calls you later, you’ll have to back me up.” Fly and I were in and out of eachothers houses all the time, so this was not a stretch. 

"Roger," said Fly. He liked pretending we were spies.

In the next fifteen minutes, I must have turned over every book in Science Fiction twice, examined every dusty spine, leafed through every page, but there was no sign of that naughty little creature. I wanted to call out to him, but then Mrs. Aurora would hear me. And the last thing I needed was for her to know there was a silverfish loose in her library. That would have banished me from there forever.

At five minutes to six, I made the final call. I was going to be in the library for the night. Across the room, I caught Fly’s eye and shook my head, signaling that I would not leave with him. The plan was on. 

In the corner of the Science Fiction section is a big pot, housing a large artificial plant. I think it’s meant to be a Ficus. I’ve always thought this was a sad business, all those plastic green leaves and that plastic brown stem. But today I was grateful for that plant. And for that large base. I knew that if I crouched down and made myself small, I would live up to my moniker, Shrimp, and evade detection. And this is what I did.

I could hear Fly shouting out to Mrs. Aurora, “We’re leaving Ma’am,” right as he was pushing open the doors, so she might assume I had headed out with him. I heard the shuffling of papers, the gathering of pens and pencils, the hum of computers turning into a low whine as they were switched off, the picking up of bags and backpacks, and the clacking of leather soles and the softer thudding of rubber shoes as people filed out. Mrs. Aurora and her assistant Madhav remained. 

“Madhav, could you switch off the water cooler and turn off the lights, and then we can lock up?" she asked. She sounded much nicer than she does during library hours. I heard the final thrum of the water cooler quieten. From behind the pot I could see Mrs. Aurora walk to the door with her bag. Then there was a series of soft clicks, followed by darkness. Footsteps, then the sound of a door closing. I could hear a key turning in the lock.

I didn’t realize I had been holding my breath until then. I let it out, all at once, then took a deep breath in. I felt giddy, scared and excited all at once! I was finally here by myself! I could look for Silver in peace!

 But first I had to call mom. I pulled out my cell phone and called. I could have texted but I knew better. 

“Mom,” I said. “Can I stay at Fly’s tonight,” I said, sounding all breathless.

“What, no hello, nothing? What happened to you, beta?” she had picked up that something was off, a mother’s unerring instinct.

“Everything is fine, mom,” I said. "I’m just excited because we’re going to eat pizza," I said.

“Ok, my little macchlu,” she said, calling me by the Hindi word for fish, turned into an endearment. Ever since I’d found Silver, I’d renamed myself Fish. At home at least. Unfortunately, at school I was still Shrimp, because of my small size. “Have fun,” She said. “And don’t forget to thank Uncle for looking after you." By this she meant Fly’s dad.

“Of course mom. Bye,” I said, disconnecting.

Immediately I looked around. “Silver,” I called out. I had no idea if he could hear me, but I figured he was sensitive to vibrations. I started to make my way through Fantasy, which was right next to Science Fiction. The light from outside was fast fading, and I considered the merits of switching on one of the room lights. Would anyone notice? Chances are, they’d think someone forgot and left a light on. So I switched on a light in the north corner so I could better see the fantasy books. There was Katherine Arden’s Winternight Trilogy. No Silver. There was Victoria Aveyard and her Red Queens. No Silver. 

As I ran my fingers along, enjoying the feel of the book edges against my skin, I came across a strange little volume in red. It was titled, “The Book of Yes,” written by Moribus. I suddenly saw a flash of silver on top. "Silver!" I cried, and seized the book. There he was! “You naughty little thing,” I said affectionately. “Were you sniffing glue again?” Silver ran up my arm and jumped into my pocket. Maybe he was ready to take a nap. 

I settled into the sofa and opened the book. And what a strange tale it was! It was the story of a little boy who said yes to everything! He seemed just the opposite of me. My night out at the library was pretty much the biggest adventure I’d ever had. 

The boy found a magic door, and he said Yes! And the door opened. He travelled to a faraway land, and he said Yes! And he danced with fairies and elves. He found the key to a submarine, and he said Yes! And he went to a Kingdom under the sea. Then I came to the final page. Printed in big bold letters was the question: How about you, will you say Yes? I stared at the page and before I knew it, I said Yes!

At that very moment, the pages of the book dissolved in my hands. The air around me started to shimmer, and then the books, the shelves, the walls, the sofa, everything began to dissolve. I looked down and I saw my body slowly disappearing, but oddly enough, I wasn’t scared. I was excited.

I suddenly found myself in a little village. I was on a cobblestone path, and storybook cottages lay on either side. The kind you’d find in Hansel and Gretel. They were made of stones, and each had its own chimney. They must have had fires going inside, as smoke was coming out of the chimneys. On the street, there were dogs, immaculately groomed: large poodles, labradoodles and golden retrievers. They walked in pairs, and each had a tiny human on a leash. They said hello to me as I passed by, in deep doggy voices. What a topsy turvy world, I said to myself.

I walked along till I found myself in front of the most beautiful cottage. Like the others, it was built out of stone. Roses adorned the gate. The bushes were made of pistachio burfi. This is my favorite Indian sweet of all time. My stomach rumbled. I found myself opening the white gate, and walking up the path to the house. 

I was about to knock when the door opened and Sabrina opened the door. You know Sabrina? The teenage witch. I used to love that show. I didn’t know she was a witch in real life.

“Welcome,” she said. “I see you’ve come to the Land of Yes.”

“I suppose I have,” I started tentatively, but then I saw her face, and a single word came out instead. “Yes!” I said.

“Well young man,” she said. “The Land of Yes is great, but remember, you can never say No. If you do, you’ll be trapped here forever. Did you get that?”

“Yes!” I said. 

“Now here’s the deal,” she said. “Listen carefully. I will offer you a challenge, which you must accept. And if you are successful, you can return home.”

“Yes,” I said. “And can I ask a question?” I enquired.

“Yes,” she said, “As long as it’s not too negative.”

“What happens,” I said, then quickly rephrased and continued, “In the very unlikely event that I’m unsuccessful?”

“Well, then you get to stay in the Land of Yes forever. And actually it’s not so bad here,” she said. “There’s lots of pista burfi to eat.” But she looked sad when she said it.

Now I like pista burfi a great deal, but I knew I did not want to be in the Land of Yes forever. If I did, how would I see Fly again? And mom and dad? And my bicycle?

“Let me hear your challenge,” I said.

"Well, there’s a monster," she said. 

“Of course,” I said, rolling my eyes. “What else is new?”

“And you must slay this monster. But there’s a trick,” she said. And at this moment she handed me a very large pin. The type that goes in a pincushion, but larger, with a thick, shiny head and sharp point. 

“This is your secret weapon,” she said. “Punches and kicks won’t do anything. You must poke him with this pin and then he’ll be vanquished.”

I was skeptical, but I accepted the pin all the same. I peeked at my pocket and I saw Silver swishing his tail in there.

We heard a great roaring outside. “Quick,” said Sabrina. "He’s here!"

I ran outside clutching my big pin. The monster was enormous, he must have been a good twenty feet tall! He was blue and had big puffy arms and legs. He seemed a little unfocused but was pretty good at knocking things about. He had knocked the gate over, trampled the roses and was now destroying the pista burfi bushes. When he saw me, he let out a puff of hot air. 

“You little pipsqueak," he said. "Aren’t you the one they call Fish? Always talking in the library?”

“I am!” I yelled. “And your end is nigh,” I cried. 

I turned to Silver, my real secret weapon and whispered. “Silver, run up and climb into his eye.” In a thrice, Silver was off. 

Have you ever been completely incapacitated by a tiny piece of grit that entered your eye, causing it to tear and water excessively? Well imagine if that piece of grit was instead a silverfish, with its feathery limbs and slippery body. Ugh! Much as I loved Silver, I wouldn’t have wanted him in my eye. And neither did the blue monster. 

In a minute he was pressing his hands into his right eye and trying to dislodge Silver. Big, fat tears streamed out and fell upon me, drenching me. My moment had come. I drew out the pin and pushed it into his foot. There was a giant bang, and then an enormous whoosh sound and the monster was gone. In the end, he was just a big balloon filled with hot air. I saw Silver falling in a giant arc through the sky. He landed on my shoulder. Phew! Sabrina clapped her hands.

"Yes!" She said. And then, “Farewell, Fish,” she cried.

“What about some pista burfi before I lea--?” I said, but before I could finish, I found myself back in the library again, on the sofa. I could hear the birds chirping and see the sunlight pouring in.

“Who is this sleeping in the Library?” Mrs. Aurora was towering above me, hands on her hips and demanding an answer.

Well, I was busted. “Maaf kijiye, Ma’am,” I asked for forgiveness. “Galti ho gayee,” I said my mea culpa. 

But Mrs. Aurora’s mouth was set in a firm line, and she sent me packing. I guess two days in a row of galtis was pushing it. I was banned from the Library for the next month. But it was ok. In my pocket I had Silver who was happily asleep in “The Book of Yes.” 

And we were both ready for a new adventure.