Fish Food

Bloodworms make for a good source of protein, sure, but the sharks at Midland Aquatic had additional serving options, off the menu.

A bored father watched his excited kid watch the Hammerhead shark cut through the water, beelining for its food. His kid was smushed shoulder to shoulder with children of varying sizes. “I want to feed the shark,” she informed him, jamming her finger against the glass.

He watched treats plunk into the tank and took a step closer. Were those…? No. He didn’t care enough to fix a problem that wasn’t his. That’s where he and his wife differed, why he was grateful she was getting lunch with her sister and didn’t come today. She would have made it a whole production. She would have found a random teenaged employee, probably this one keeping to the walls and toting a broom and dustpan, to alert him to the problem. The poor pimple-spotted teen would look around cluelessly and they’d just tack on more time amongst the crowds of clueless tourists milling about and leaving smeared fingerprints on the glass, much like his child just did.

The wearied man didn’t care to look further into it. His eyes were blurred from lack of sleep anyway. “Come on. Let’s go see the otters or something.” He beckoned his child and ushered her down the cool, dark hallway.

They passed a woman who was furiously wiping the glass of the massive Whale shark tank. “Hope you enjoyed the shark exhibit.” She gave a tight smile as she leaned in to inspect the glass.

“We did. You may want another bottle of that stuff when you head that way. Every kid has their cheeks and fingers and toes smushed against there.”

The woman with wiry hair and a blue vest spun around. Her nametag said “Mickey.” She bent down to be eye level with the girl. “If I were to take a sample of your prints I wouldn’t find them on that glass, would I?”

His daughter hid behind his leg. “No, of course not. Not my kid.” He was already regretting the small talk. Should have kept his mouth shut and kept it moving. The less human interaction, the better.

“Hmph. All right then. Enjoy the rest of your day at Midland Aquatic.” She put on a smile, and it was actually quite nice albeit obviously rehearsed. “Take a lollipop.” She rummaged in her bulking hip bag and produced a red sucker shaped like a fish.

“What do you say?” He prompted his daughter.

“Thank you.” A well-trained little girl.

“What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Lila Cohan,” she responded without looking up, setting to work on opening the candy.

“I’ll take the wrapper from you. Not that I don’t believe you won’t find the trash can, but one less step out of your way.” Mickey held out a blue latex-gloved hand while the girl struggled with the tough wrapper. She finally broke the sucker free and placed the trash in Mickey’s hand. “Enjoy the rest of your day at Midland Aquatic,” she said again, a cleaner performance than the strain of the first delivery.

Mickey pinched the cellophane and pulled a Ziploc from another compartment of her bag, setting down the spray and paper towels to do so. She gingerly placed the lollipop’s wrapper inside and pulled out her trusty blue Sharpie, biting the cap as she scribbled “Lila Cohan” onto the Ziploc’s surface. She slid the bag into the thin zippered pocket, then returned the Sharpie to its place. She then felt inside the main part of the bag and gripped the cannister of black powder, giving it two shakes. Satisfied, she rummaged to the left to find her lucky squeegee, then grabbed her bottle of glass cleaner to finish wiping for the Whale shark. He liked to look out, too. All the fish did. People watching with a side of finger snacks.