Friday, December 11th 2009, 1 p.m.:
When I saw him, through the kitchen window, too close to the surface for this freezing weather I ran to the door, flung on a pair of Violet’s shoes and ran to the pond. It was like time froze. It looked like Fraidy was trapped in ice. He was on his side and he was not moving at all. I panicked. I ran to the shed and grabbed the axe. I ran back to the pond and I started to hit the ice with everything in me. As specks of ice were flying everywhere, I did realize, somewhere, that my efforts were most likely in vain. But I rarely, if ever, accept the things I cannot change until I have proof, a lot of proof.
I threw the axe at the ice as hard as I could, with more of me than I knew I had actually, about six inches to the left of him. I hacked and hacked at the ice block until several inches down I finally hit water. I did this in a circle around him. It took quite a few minutes and all of my might. I felt panicked and out of breath.
As I was hitting the ice block over and over I saw that nothing at all was happening to Fraidy but I still didn’t believe the worst could be true. Or maybe I didn’t believe that there wasn’t still something I could do.
Finally, I had carved a full circle around my friend and as I lifted up several inches of ice, Fraidy slowly floated to the top, on his side, like he was dead.
I ran inside and grabbed a bowl, filled it with room temperature water and ran back outside. I picked Fraidy up with my hands, touching and holding my friend for the first time ever, and put him in the warmer water. Maybe he just needed a break from the cold, who doesn’t? Maybe he had slowed down his breathing so much that he looked dead, like he’s done year after year now, that the human eye just can’t recognize at first. Maybe he just needed a minute. Maybe he would thaw a bit, gasp for air and look at me like, “What the hell am I doing in a salad bowl, you crazy son of a bitch?” Anything. I was looking for anything. I was panicked and shivering and whispering to him over and over, “Come on buddy, all you have to do is breathe, ok? I’m sorry.”
He didn’t. I sat on the frozen ground, beginning to freeze myself, for more than 15 minutes, just staring at him with a sort of attention I have never found before. I would have seen it, if anything happened I would have noticed. I started to feel heavy and dizzy and awful. I started to sink but the ground underneath me was so hard and frozen I had nowhere to sink into so I just sat there and loathed myself for being so devastated.
I realized, then and now, that being this hurt, this broken apart, over a little fish does not fair well in the scheme of things, in my ability to cope with the world. But really, I don’t want to, not like that. And I hate when the world makes me feel like I need to buck up. I tried, I try, but I couldn’t feel less. One of my favorite ways to spend my time was with a fucking goldfish and now he was gone and so now I felt broken and I get, maybe more than is good for me, how stupid this sounds and that only made me more upset. So I sat there, shivering and crying, just staring at him, angry that I felt this sad, angry that he was gone, angry that there was nothing I could do and even more angry wondering if maybe there had been something I could have done. My brain kept yelling at me, “IT’S JUST A FUCKING GOLDFISH!” and my heart argued back, “He was a friend.”
A few hours later I had plans to meet up with a buddy of mine. I decided, in my loathing, that I had no excuse to cancel. He is a good guy and when I eventually told him about Fraidy, whom he knew, I could tell that he got it, and that made me feel a bit less crazy and it made me love him more, for getting me like that, for getting Fraidy like that.
I came home around 4 p.m., later than I meant to, and grabbed a shovel. I tried to dig a hole but the ground was too frozen. I didn’t know what to do so I left him in a fish net, in the pond, his home, that quickly refroze. Fraidy looked like a picture of himself.
- - - -
On Saturday the ground was still very frozen so I took the axe and all of my angst to the ground this time. I started to carve out space for my friend right next to the pond. It was exhausting and it felt good. The ground was frozen solid for almost a foot. I wrapped sweet little Fraidy in a cloth and before I put him in the ground I said, “I’d kiss you goodbye but I don’t kiss boys. I love you though. A lot. And I know your little fish brain is the size of a fish food flake, but I know you knew that. Goodbye.”
Rest in peace Fraidy Phat, my sweet little fish friend.
You will be very missed, especially in quieter moments.
And thanks little guy, you know, for everything…



26 comments
Comments feed for this article
December 14, 2009 at 6:59 am
JMc
Deepest condolences on the loss of your friend. I cried a flood of tears when my sisters fish, Wanda, died. She had been my favorite niece for 8 years.
December 14, 2009 at 11:48 am
jessejames
A fish called Wanda! I love it. Funny what sneaks into your heart, huh?
December 14, 2009 at 8:27 am
Amber
Friendship crosses racial, cultural, gender, sexual orientation and species boundaries. Deepest sympathies on the loss of Fraidy Phat who was most definitely not ”just a fucking goldfish!”
December 14, 2009 at 8:28 am
fg
oh jesse, i’m so so sorry. fraidy, you will be missed by all of us.
December 14, 2009 at 10:50 am
jessejames
Thanks FG. I’ll still write stories about him, so, he’ll show up in this space now and then. He is a famous fish after all and there are still tales to tell.
December 14, 2009 at 8:38 am
greg
We all knew how much you loved Fraidy and to us, even though most of us never had the chance to meet the little guy, he was still more than just a fish. He was a part of your story and he will be missed.
I’m really sorry and I wish it would stop raining on you.
December 14, 2009 at 10:48 am
jessejames
You are very sweet, thanks. He was a wonderful, sweet little place and part of my story. And that is exactly it, a couple of chapters ended unexpectedly as of late, like they can, but I was still with a pen in hand.
December 14, 2009 at 10:15 am
ladybrettashley
oh no! i was waiting for this to be like another well-written, suspenseful story about fraidy, with another happy ending…
i’m so sorry, honey.
December 14, 2009 at 11:02 am
alphafemme
If only more people had the capacity to feel the way you do. The world would be a much, much warmer place.
December 14, 2009 at 11:55 am
jessejames
Kleenex stock would go up, that’s for sure. That is sweet, alphafemme, thanks.
December 14, 2009 at 12:14 pm
Jess
Oh no! I’m so sorry that you lost your buddy. I’ll miss him too!
December 14, 2009 at 12:24 pm
Blazer
So sorry Jesse. I’m with Alphafemme, we need more people like you.
December 14, 2009 at 12:36 pm
Holden
I’m really, really sorry Jesse.
December 14, 2009 at 1:51 pm
tongue-tied
dang. and that doesn’t even begin to cover it.
you know, our animal friends are so precious
they connect us to our wild animalness
and do not judge us
and do not politic with us
they show up
in a way people struggle to show up
i think, on the contrary,
your feelings in this matter
speaks volumes
of your wellness and
of your compassionate heart
December 14, 2009 at 8:08 pm
jesse james
Everytime you write, there or here (which is always flattering) perks me up in some way, so, thank you for showing up today.
December 14, 2009 at 2:30 pm
mooddiary
I lost my dog earlier this year. He was very old, and it was his time, but it was terrible, nevertheless. Always being a mammal lover, I never understood the fish thing until I was given one for my birthday in October, and now I love the little guy. The way he dances up to me, shimmying his pectoral fins when I get home, the way he is sooo excited when I give him fish treats… What I’m trying, poorly, to say is, I understand, and I’m crying too. xx
December 14, 2009 at 3:30 pm
jessejames
Well, I think you said it just perfectly. And I am so sorry for the loss of your pooch! I look at the Seal and I just can’t imagine the heart ache. I’m glad your little fishy makes you smile. Thanks for the comment, mooddiary.
December 14, 2009 at 3:00 pm
e
oh jesse. i’m so sorry! poor fraidy. he was loved, that’s for sure.
December 15, 2009 at 2:39 am
aneke
You have a real talent for writing. Its a gift.
December 15, 2009 at 3:00 am
kalisisrising
I’m sorry for your loss. Friends are friends, no matter the shape or size they come in.
December 15, 2009 at 5:39 am
Jen
I’m so sorry Jesse. No matter the species, they can all be our friends. Much love to you.
December 15, 2009 at 9:53 am
yondergen
Hey, you know a fish is important when they’re in the “Cast” as a friend.
December 15, 2009 at 10:38 am
leo
rest in peace, fraidy. i’m sorry.
December 15, 2009 at 5:13 pm
saintchick
Oh my goodness, I am so upset to hear the news of Fraidy’s passing. My thoughts and prayers are with you and Violet at this moment.
oxo
December 15, 2009 at 6:33 pm
G
I’m so sorry to hear about Fraidy. The loss of a friend can’t be qualified – it just hurts all the way around. Sending you peace and comfort …
June 27, 2011 at 1:26 pm
little baby (fish) heart repair « just like jesse james
[...] I still think about and miss, very much, my best fish-guy and am not the kind of person who likes to replace. I would much rather dwell on how much I miss Fraidy and how no fish could or will ever take that fish-love-spot in my heart. But, this pond is actually just a well-kept mud puddle of standing water when there is no life inside- so. [...]