Page 39 of The Tenant
“Yes. That’s what I did.” More or less.
“And you put in the tablet to get rid of the chlorine, right?”
“Absolutely.”
As Krista is quizzing me about what I did when I changed the water last week, I can’t help but feel a little bit of relief that I don’t have to do this anymore. Changing the fish’s water was such a pain in the neck. Although I have a bad feeling that we will probably be making a trip to the pet store soon to get another fish. Maybe I can talk her out of it though. At least until things settle down.
I’ll have to do some research on what animals are easiest to take care of. A lizard would be cool.
“We…we have to bury her,” Krista says.
“We do? You mean, we can’t just…flush her?”
Krista flashes me a horrified look. Maybe thatwasa bit callous. I feel a little tug in my chest as I look at Goldy’s tiny inert body.
“Sorry,” I say quickly. “Of course we can bury her. We can have a funeral and everything.”
That seems to placate her somewhat. Great. Now I’m committed to a funeral for a goldfish. I can’t believe this will be how I spend my Saturday morning.
“I’ll go get a Ziploc bag to store her,” Krista says. “Can you fish her out of the bowl?”
“Sure.”
I feel mildly disgusted at the idea of handling a dead fish, but I guess it’s not technically that different from when I’m eating sashimi. That’s what I tell myself anyway.
As I am leaning over the fish tank with the tiny net, I catch a whiff of the water inside. And that’s when I smell it. At first, I’m certain I must be imagining the smell. But no. There’s a very distinct odor coming from the fishbowl.
It’s bleach.
Krista comes back into the living room, carrying a little baggie about big enough to fit Goldy inside. Her eyes are still very puffy, and I almost wonder if it would be cruel to tell her that her fish didn’t die of natural causes. But she needs to know the truth. She needs to know what we’re dealing with here, because she doesn’t seem to be taking it seriously.
“Krista,” I say slowly. “Someone put bleach in the fishbowl.”
Her eyes fly open. “What?”
“I smell it.” Now that I noticed the odor, it seems to fill the entire room. I can’t believe I didn’t detect it sooner. “It’s a very distinctive smell.”
Krista dashes over to the fishbowl. She sticks her nose closer than I would be willing to while there’s a dead fish inside. She lifts her face. “I don’t smell anything.”
“Seriously?” I’d be able to smell it from down the hallway. “It’s definitely bleach, Krista.”
She sniffs the bowl again. “I don’t know. I’m not even entirely sure what bleach smells like.”
“It’s a chemical smell! It’s bleach!”
I don’t even realize how loud I am until she takes a step back. “Okay, so why would there be bleach in the fishbowl?”
I’ve been wondering the same thing. “Whitney must have put it in there.”
“Whitney?” Her eyes bulge out. “Why on earth wouldWhitneydo that?”
“Because she’s a psychopath,” I reply, because it’sobvious. “I know we need the money, but I think we should get her out of here. I mean it.”
Krista frowns. “Then how are we supposed to pay the mortgage?”
At this point, I’d almost rather get kicked out than live here with Whitney. I don’t trust her. If she’s willing to poison a goldfish, who knows what else she’s capable of? “Do you really want someone living with us who would poison a defenseless goldfish?”
“I really don’t smell anything…”
