The Goldfish Boy

“You collect them? What, like stickers? Like a kid’s sticker book?”

“No, it’s not like that at all. If I didn’t take them, then—”

“How many of these have you got? I mean, can you just take them? Off of people’s graves? These are people’s private thoughts—you shouldn’t be taking them, it’s theft!”

She looked horrified. “No, you don’t understand—”

“Don’t understand what? That you’re taking personal things that don’t belong to you?”

Melody wiped her face with her hand. The whites of her eyes glistened with tears.

“It’s not like you’re saying. I’m not stealing! They’d be thrown away if I didn’t take them. Why are you so angry?”

I was thinking about the card I’d written a few months ago on the anniversary of Callum’s death. It wasn’t a card exactly, just a scrap of paper. I’d scribbled a message to him telling him I was sorry. Saying I didn’t mean for him to die. I had gone to his grave before school, tucking the paper underneath the angel’s toe.

Melody stood hugging herself as a tear trickled down her cheek. I couldn’t tell her.

“I’m going home,” I said and I ran toward the alleyway, leaving her crying behind me. I needed to get away, from her and the graveyard. This whole thing had been just one big mistake. The gloves she’d bought didn’t feel right—they weren’t as thick as the ones Mum had gotten, so the germs were probably seeping through already.

When I passed the Rectory’s backyard Old Nina was standing on a stepladder trying to reach something that was stuck in her apple tree. Something made of white fabric was twisted in the branches; she was jabbing at it using a broom. Frowning as she bit her bottom lip, she was concentrating so hard she didn’t notice as I ran past, toward home.





Jake was waiting for me at the end of the alleyway on his bike.

“What you two up to?” he said, his arms folded across his chest. I put the plastic bag behind my back. “You know something, don’t you?”

“No.”

“Do you two think you’re going to find Teddy? You saw something, didn’t you? From the window?”

He leaned forward on the handlebars and edged his way toward me.

“You saw something and you’re not telling anyone.”

“No I didn’t! Now get out of my way, Jake.”

He was blocking the alleyway and there was no room for me to get around.

“That Melody ain’t going to be any use. If you need a partner, I can do some stuff, see what I can find out.”

He shrugged as if he didn’t care one way or the other, but I couldn’t believe he was asking to get involved. What was he up to?

“You?” I said, stepping against the wall of his house so I could get by. “Thanks but no thanks.”

He sniffed and jutted his chin toward me, and when I tried to squeeze past him he rolled his bike forward and squashed my leg against the wall.

“Jake! What do you think you’re doing?”

I tried to wriggle free, but he pushed the bike harder.

“You think you’re so great, don’t you? Well, you know what, Weirdo Corbin?”

He leaned so close I could see the painful cracks of sore skin in the creases of his eyes.

“You’re nothing.”

He twisted the bike against my leg once more, then pushed away and pedaled off down the road.



When I got home Penny had left and Mum was whispering with Dad in the living room.

“It’s a start, isn’t it, Brian? He went out on his own accord. How long has it been since he’s done that?”

I sat on the bottom of the stairs and kicked my shoes off. My leg was throbbing and every inch of me was swarming with germs. If I didn’t get in the shower immediately I’d get ill. And if I got ill then Mum would get ill and then Dad and then … and then whatever happened next would be all my fault. All because I hadn’t washed in time. Mum came out to see me.

“Give him some space, Sheila! You don’t want to frighten him back into his room now, do you?” called Dad, as if I couldn’t hear.

“I am giving him space! I’m just pleased to see him, aren’t I? How was your little outing, Matthew? Did you go anywhere nice? What’ve you got in that bag?”

I couldn’t speak.

If I spoke then the germs would be able to crawl into my mouth. Dad appeared, taking his turn.

“How about that game of pool, eh, Matthew? I got all the cat hair off while you were out, so it’s as good as new.”

As if this was his cue to join in, Nigel appeared from the kitchen, meowing loudly as he brushed himself against Mum’s legs.

“Oh look, Matty! Nigel is pleased to see you as well. Aren’t you, Nigel-wigel?”

She picked him up and cradled him like a baby as the cat shut its eyes and purred loudly, tipping its head back as Mum scratched him under the chin. I had my very own welcome party.

I suddenly remembered I was still wearing the gloves, so I quickly ran upstairs as Dad yelled after me.

“Matthew? You wearing those bloody gloves again?”



I turned the shower on and twisted the dial to the hottest setting, waiting for it to heat up.

Mum knocked gently on the door.

“Are you okay, Matthew? Is everything all right?”

“Yep, fine, Mum,” I called, trying to sound as cheery as possible.

There was silence but I knew she was still there, listening to the blast of water.

“I’m always here for you, darling. We both are.” Her voice broke a little but she carried on. “You can tell us anything. Don’t ever think we won’t understand, because we will, okay? You’re our very special boy.”

I looked at my reflection in the mirrored cabinet. Tears were streaming down my cheeks, my nose running.

It was all because of me, Mum. The baby you wanted so badly died because of me.

I quietly cleared my throat.

“I know, Mum. I’ll speak to you in a bit. Okay?”

There was more silence and then I heard her pad back downstairs. We both knew I wouldn’t be speaking to her in a bit. I got in the shower and rubbed at my skin with soap. The water was scalding, but I carried on. Killing the germs was vital, and if it wasn’t hot, then they wouldn’t die. After the shower the tightness in my chest loosened a little, and I brushed my teeth five times to make sure nothing had reached my mouth. When I got to the office I knew there would be an email waiting for me. I used my shirt to cover my finger as I clicked the email open.

To: Matthew Corbin

From: Melody Bird

Subject: My Mistake

I thought out of everybody you’d understand.

There’s not much difference between us, Matthew Corbin. We’re loners, you and I. We don’t fit in. At least I don’t pretend that I do.

Melody Bird



I sat back in the office chair, stunned. A loner? She was calling me a loner? I wasn’t lonely and I certainly fit in! I read the message two more times, then put on a fresh pair of latex gloves.

A second email was waiting for me. He must have sent it before he blocked my way in the alley.

To: Matthew Corbin

From: Jake Bishop

Subject: Old Nina Witch

What are you two up to? I saw you both heading to the graveyard. What’s going on? Is it something to do with Old Nina? She’s a witch, you know. She’s probably got a whole load of dead bodies in that house! Remember Halloween?!



Underneath the email he’d inserted a photograph of an old lady, her face distorted and her eyes dangling in two different directions on red-veined stalks.

I knew the Halloween he was talking about. It was the last time I’d been trick-or-treating, three years ago …

It was the first time that we’d been allowed to go on our own, but we were under strict instructions to only knock on the houses in the cul-de-sac, including our own, and not to bother Old Nina at the Rectory. Our mums would be watching us from their living rooms, so all in all it wasn’t looking like a particularly exciting Halloween.

It seemed a bit pointless knocking on our own houses, as our mums had already seen our outfits, but it was worth it for the candy. We started at Jake’s and Sue opened her door and let out an ear-piercing scream when we yelled: “Trick or treat!”

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