Ron turned out to have a real touch with children and generally brought the favored presents.
Now she backed out of the room, her arms full of dirty clothes, which she dropped into the laundry basket in the linen closet. She crossed the hallway and entered the dining room. There, too, she opened the window, which in the real estate brochure promised “a brilliant view to the Alps.” Mostly, the window simply looked over the larger noisy road, across rows and rows of similar apartment blocks to the southwest of town, and a distant white haze. Still, the window was large and gave the room an airy feeling that in winter often turned into a rather frigid draft. No matter how much she tried to plug the door and window, the air whistled through and made their feet feel as if they were sitting in cold water.
This room also contained a TV and a settee with reading lamp. An overhead chandelier loomed over the dining table. It was one of Manfred’s inherited pieces and consisted of metal curlicues, bulbs made to look like candles, and twenty glass diamonds, which reflected the fake candlelight. Emma knew the exact number of glass diamonds because she dusted them at least once a month. Manfred insisted his mother had dusted them weekly, and that the chandelier lacked brilliance due to her lack of attention.
She switched on the TV, as well as the reading light, and muted the sound. At least some flickering color would come through. All that light illuminated the incongruity of the place. The antiseptic white walls shrouded the heavy, dark wood German furniture: an armoire with heavy bulbous feet like a gouty matron at a ball and a sideboard almost black with age, which diminished the ridiculous Ikea table like a barge tied up to a paper boat. Emma had never understood why Manfred wanted to live with his parents’ furniture. The pieces were depressing, unsuited to the apartment, and generally unused. All the sideboard drawers were empty except for one that held his family’s silver. The armoire, for winter and rain coats, was not used, because the door stuck. If you left a coat in there for any time at all, it came out smelling of spoiled meat. Emma could never open it without a twinge of fear that this time she would discover the source of the smell, and it would turn out to be the corpse of Grandma—or worse.
She stepped back into the hallway, breathing hard as if she had been running. The hallway was still gloomy, the coats glowered, and the walls looked as though the devil’s hands might reach out any minute just like the movie. Emma sank onto the stool at the entrance, placed there for putting on shoes, and covered her face with her hands. It was hopeless. The place was dark and unwelcoming, and some days, like today, she simply couldn’t stand it.
All at once she practically tossed the food into the refrigerator, left those items that didn’t need refrigeration on the table, and dumped Manfred’s clothes on their bed. She stuck one arm into her coat, wrapped a scarf around her neck, and was out the door before she realized she’d left the lights on and the windows open. She shrugged. It would only be a minute. She ran down the stairs, swinging past the landings by holding on to the newel posts.
Two blocks over, she banged open the door to the secondhand store and charged in. The dusty old man behind the counter looked up sharply as if he expected to be robbed, but she didn’t have time to apologize. There! It was still there! A huge glass aquarium, as big as a baby crib, complete with light and pump and a sign assuring her it was all in working order. It had sat in that dusty room for weeks. She had often passed it wondering how it could have ended up there and what had been in it before.
The old man looked at her aghast, and, when he recognized her, he asked, “Are you all right? What’s burning?” His milky, white eyes looked past her at the door, but it had not broken, and she closed it carefully behind her.
7
“I came for the aquarium,” she said.
“That’s lovely. You know how to set one up? I can’t help you, but I’m sure the person who sold it might help.”
“No, I’m fine. I’m just going to the pet store and get some, like, starter fish. You know, goldfish and such. I don’t think I can mess them up too much.”
She did not argue about the price as he carefully packed it in a box. Within minutes she was on her way, the bulky package carefully cradled in her arms.
She managed to get it back to the apartment without problems. Well, except for Mrs. Meyer waiting behind the entrance door.
“Are you aware that you left all your windows open and lights on?” she asked sternly.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Meyer. I left in a hurry and forgot.”
“Make sure it doesn’t happen again! We all pay for that when the monthly bill comes.” Her index finger even wagged just like a caricature of a scolding schoolmistress.
“Yes, Mrs. Meyer,” Emma said just like the other half of the caricature. Mrs. Meyer glanced sharply at her to see if she was being sarcastic, but Emma looked at her in all seriousness.
“I am sorry. This is heavy, and I better go close those windows.” With that she escaped up the stairs and soon was inside her cold lit-up apartment.
By the time the boys were home from school, the aquarium was enthroned at the back of the hallway directly in line with the entrance door. The light glowed an unearthly blue, and the water pump bubbled. Emma thought she saw the same relief in the boys’ faces that she felt: Finally there was something to look forward to in the apartment. More likely, though, she was projecting. After all, the boys had lived in this place for most of their lives. It would feel safe to them. Wouldn’t it?
Before they took their shoes and coats off, the three of them were down the stairs again, heading for the pet store. The whole way they debated what they would need and would like. For sure, Karl insisted, they’d need a pirate ship with a treasure chest and a diver.
Ron kept saying, “But I want a turtle. I don’t want dead pirates. I want a turtle.”
In the pet store, they bombarded the teenage sales clerk with questions and demands. After a lengthy debate, the boys agreed to half a dozen goldfish and a clay turtle.
“Maybe someday we can have a salt-water aquarium, and then we could get more colorful fish,” Karl said longingly, looking over to where the exotic fish coursed through their small tanks.
“I want a clown fish. Promise?” Ron asked.
“Yes, and Karl, you can get a samurai fish, and I can have rock shrimp,” Emma said as they stood in front of the reef environment exhibit. “Aren’t they amazing?”
“Look at those pretty eels,” Ron said and tapped the glass.
Robert, the sales clerk, stood patiently behind them with a plastic bag with tiny goldfish. They found a turtle and a highly satisfactory treasure chest with gold pieces that would spill from it. They added some pebbles, rocks, greenery, and, finally, even a rubber ducky to float on top before they hurried home.
Manfred was standing in the hallway with his coat still on, looking dazedly at the water tank.
“Dad, look. We’ve got an aquarium with fish and treasures,” the boys shouted and rushed past him in their haste to colonize a new world.
The time until dinner was taken up with placing and replacing the ferns, the fake coral, the ship, and pirate treasure chest, while the goldfish placidly circled in their plastic bag, which waited in the sink. Manfred had settled in his usual armchair with the newspaper and a drink, but soon Emma could hear him in the hallway, participating in the debate.
Emma dumped a can of spaghetti sauce into a saucepan and added garlic and chopped onions. She put on the water to boil. The whole time she was listening to her family in the hallway. Manfred argued for his placement ideas as heatedly as the boys did. With a sigh, Emma realized that, as was his way, Manfred pulled the authority card frequently but so far not enough to cause a tearful breakdown.
She had often wondered what it was about the boys that got Manfred so intensely heated up. He seemed to be as competitive as if they were three boys the same age, rather than father and sons. As soon as either of the boys threatened his authority on anything, he had