Tommy

Meet Tommy. Tommy is a small boy with blue eyes and dark hair. He always wears a white shirt. Now, this may come as a surprise to you because white always gets dirty. But not Tommy’s shirts. He was far too neat and far too tidy for that. This neat and tidy demeanour was present in every aspect of his life. His bed was always made. His books lined up alphabetically. Even his hair seemed far too grown-up for a boy as small as he. Yet Tommy did two very extraordinary things each and every day. And well, the first extraordinary thing he did was count his money. Like a grown-up. His mother was awfully proud of this. Every chance she got she told whoever was listening about his little red ledger book. Oh, he writes down every little amount in that thing. It’s adorable, you know. In the morning he sits at the breakfast table, brows furrowed in concentration. He adds up the numbers and totals of his savings while he eats his porridge. Oh, he destined for such great things. He’ll be some rich CEO of some fancy company before he’s thirty. His father shared this sentiment. At family gatherings, he’d often go off on a tangent about what college his son would attend. About how they were saving up for it. Harvard is expensive you know. But with the amount of money this boy is putting away, he might even pay for it himself one day! Don’t get me wrong. His parents didn’t force him to be this way. Tommy, well . . . he just liked structure.

He never missed a day of school. No, sir. Not Tommy. And afterwards, he’d read on the bus home. And well, once he got home, he studied. No surprise there. But that brings us to the second extraordinary thing. After studying, Tommy would take the bus into town again. His destination? The Petshop. He’d march right in, not sparing a glance at the wiggly puppies or the meowing kittens. He didn’t even look at the parrots or colourful Budgies. He didn’t even stop to gasp at the multitudes of squeaky guinea pigs.

The attendants would greet him with a smile and say, “Hey Tommy. You still saving up?”

And he would nod and fiddle, eager to be on his way.

As soon as they had their fill of chit chat, they would release him into the world of cable kelp forests and fish tanks. The dim lights made the water glow and shine. Made it cast otherworldly shadows on the floor as small little fish gaped at him. The pods of electric plugs kept the world humming with soft pink light. The aisle stretched out like a tunnel and at the end, there was a big tank. The light was softer there. The plastic plants denser, almost overwhelmingly green. Tommy sat down in front of it, legs crossed and eyes big. He waited. A shimmer of red scales flashed through the plastic foliage. Peering over the plants he saw another glimmer. His mouth broadened into a grin as he saw eyes just as big as his own.

He looked over his shoulder and then back at the tank. “Don’t be shy. It’s just me, you know,” he whispered.

Her fingers parted the curtain of plants and she floated forward. Her tail swished in the water. Tommy waved her hello and she giggled and waved back, floating closer until her face was nearly pressed up against the glass.  Her bright red hair spread out like a halo around her head. The mermaid looked delighted to see him.

Tommy glanced over his shoulder again.

She tapped on the glass, unhappy that his attention was not on her.

“Alright, alright. Hello,” without taking a breath he continued, “We painted in class today.”

She grinned.

“I painted you,” he grinned back.

She looked garish. Teeth like razors lined her mouth. Dangerous, but Tommy paid that no mind. People couldn’t help if their teeth were sharp and pointy, now could they?

“Oh, and mom made me a grilled sandwich for lunch. My favourite.”

She pointed up at a box perched on the tank. A decorative label proclaimed it to be fish food. The flakey kind that’s all sorts of colours, you know? Tommy regarded it, “That doesn’t look very filling or very tasty.”

She shook her head in agreement and folded her arms against her body. A white bandage was wound across her chest. It was stark compared to her complexion, but Tommy guessed it looked neater than a clam bra.

“I got some money again from mowing aunty Joan’s lawn.”

The mermaid lifted her head, questions in her eyes.

Tommy mimed pushing a lawnmower. He mimicked the sound as he explained it to her, “I used a machine with a blade underneath to cut the grass.”

She tilted her head.

“Grass is . . . like . . . Kelp. I think.”

Her eyes widened in horror and she gasped.

“No, no! It’s not bad! It makes things look neat! And pretty!”

She shook her head vehemently and started chastising him with a long, clawed finger. A shriek of a warble left her mouth. Her voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard. Like a plane crashing. If acid were a sound that is what it would be. Poor Tommy clamped his hands over his ears and ducked his head.

“Shhhhhh, shhhhh, it’s okay!”

She didn’t stop telling him rightly what she thought of him cutting the land kelp. How horrible, how cruel and-

“Shhhhhh, they’ll hear you and kick me out!!”

She stopped right in the middle of her shrieky sentence and quieted. She folded her arms once more and had the good sense to look a bit embarrassed. Tommy looked over his shoulder before slowly lowering his hands. He sighed in relief.

After making sure no one heard them, they lapsed into silence. Tommy traced patterns on the glass and the mermaid was watching him. He glanced up at the big red price tag on the corner of the tank.

“See that?”

She looked and nodded.

He took out his little red ledger book and paged through it. After shuffling closer and turning his body he showed her.

“See this is how much I still need to save,” he said tapping the end of his stubby pencil to the sum. The mermaid looked at the red price tag again. Her smile faded.

“No, not the big amount. The small one written below it. That’s how much I need for the down payment.”

She looked back at the tag and then at the numbers on the book. Smiling once more, she placed her hand on the glass. Tommy covered his hand with hers. His was smaller even if you excluded her claws. They didn’t match at all. Not one bit of Tommy and the Mermaid seemed to fit together, but that’s the thing. Some friendships darn well don’t make sense.