Koi Fighting Fish

[Disclaimer: Strong adult themes, reader beware.]

"'The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my OWN.' Those are her exact words, Sargent. Whenever I try to help her, she calls me a ba…!" Ted's bloody hands gesture.

"Mr. Tuggins, please calm down. We don't have these kinda calls in the Hamptons Cliffs. This area is an exclusive part of the Island." Sgt. Michaels tries to de-escalate the situation, despite his cop lights pulsing.

"It's her. She's making me say and do things. He's in the mirror too," pointing her gnarled finger. I am not going to jail tonight. Don't make me do it, TedDDD!" Mrs. Tuggins tantrums like a three-year-old, her hair a mess, accompanied by wet, smeary eye makeup and overdrawn lipstick.

"We're taking her. Are you certain she's a risk to you and herself? We'll need a doctor to assess her. She attempted to kill you, correct?" He certifies.

"YES! She's off her meds. She came at me with a knife. The last two times with a hammer and a bat. One of us is going to die." He pleads.

Sgt. Michaels places Nancy Tuggins inside his patrol car and drives to Station #116. A psychiatrist is on standby at the neighboring Long Island Hospital, ready.

The paramedics wrap his hands while Ted stands precariously without hope. He shakes his head, sensing his pending expiration date.

***

***

Ted flashbacks…

Ted and Nancy's story began in Manhattan. Their love of the racy NYC nightlife and the overstated pretension of the Upper East Side drew them deeper toward one another. Ted enjoyed the Market and grew into a senior executive position. Nancy worked in art and loved fashion. She was part of the high society pages. As a social climber, Nancy met Ted at a gallery event, and they soon began to date. She offered him arm candy while he offered her a black Amex lifestyle.

The following years moved up and down like the NYSE. Ted's schedule and her mania created a volatile mix: Mr. Coke, Ms. Alcohol, plus their cousins Codeine and Vicodin equaled a party every night. Over the years, their distrust and animosity grew as did their waistlines. Her drug problem and his wandering eye created a spiciness they relished.

Nancy's addiction didn't stop at alcohol or drugs. Lifestyle creep—the overconsumption of unnecessary things—translated to an attempt to fill the holes in her heart. Her hoard slowly overtook them. Ted's concern began to grow. Her nightly rambling stemmed from her whispery thoughts. Her whispers turned to voices, and the voices she heard led to insomnia, then paranoia: the neighbors watching her, the FBI tracing her calls, a sniper looking for her. One day, she began talking to herself in the mirror. Ted came home to her smashed mirror, where she chased him with a large shard of glass. He'd speed-dialed the police on more than one occasion.

Little by little, Ted cleaned up his addicted lifestyle. Every meeting meant getting off the mat and getting back in the fight. His weight returned to normal, as did his bank account, saving the occasional night out with Nancy. He was happy with his reflection. The man staring back was a glowing example of dedication and tenacity.

Ted claimed power of attorney over Nancy. Her all-night screaming sessions frightened him, like her moments with the axe. She volunteered for treatment, promising change. Her psychiatrist's diagnosis: mental illness.

As a caretaker, Ted's new relief turned to eventual overwhelm. "This pill, that pill, then two at night, followed by three in the morning. Watch her so she swallows it and make sure she's eating and use this to help her sleep and you get yourself some sleep too….," they'd say. This reality continued until Aunt Tilly's death, when she bequeathed him her Hamptons Cliffs Victorian, sitting empty for three years. To Ted, she was a godsend.

***

Today on a moving day…

Nancy moves into her new bedroom and falls in love with old Aunt Tilly's vintage three-way mirror sitting upon an antique makeup desk. It seduces her with its beveled glass edges, hearty oak trim, and oversized shape filling the room. Mesmerized, she smiles at how the light bounces around when she pulls back the curtains. Her four-poster bed is stately, but the mirror calls to her. She sits on the cushioned stool and looks at her reflection. If she bends the sides towards her, there are three Nancys, while three Nellies stare back. She had a similar mirror as a child, the one her father bought her.

Her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Koi, overbought items for their little girl. Out of guilt, they'd buy two of everything: bears, dolls, tea sets, and doll houses. They overcompensated for the loss of Nancy's twin, Nettie, who died at birth. They pointed to Nancy's reflection in the mirror, telling her that Nettie lived on the other side. Nancy played with her toys, would look in the mirror, talk to her late twin, then befriend, love, hate, and fight with her. Nancy Koi was spared, while Nettie Koi was not. Her parents referred to their children as "the twins" despite Nancy being their only living child.

Nettie staring prevailed, as did her pouting, fretting, and spitting through the reflection. Nancy's hatred for Nettie grew so much that she'd slam her hairbrush into the mirror, wishing she could break the bully down in her reflection.

"I hate you, you witch. You stole my life, and I will follow you until your dying day," Nettie would yell into the mirror, then rub her spittle all over the glass.

Nancy hated fighting and tried to quell the anger inside her veins. She'd laugh, play, sing, and dance until her twin would seethe and begin their round-and-round fighting.

Nancy thought it was over, but Nettie's persistence followed her to their new Victorian on Scarlett Way. The shiny mirror is an open door into Nancy's new life. One night Nancy looks at old pictures of her and Ted and sees a happy couple. She shows Nettie while she laughs and cries simultaneously. Nettie snarks, "You don't think he loves you?" She sparks a rage deep inside Nancy's belly. She spends the rest of the evening with her old photo albums playing their favorite song, "Honesty," by Billy Joel.

"Honesty," she yelps, "is such," she sings, "a lonely word" aloud with a face full of smeared makeup, questioning her relationship. Is it love? Does he still care? When was the last time he kissed or even looked at me without that dreaded glance of obligation? Her thoughts spiral. She ruminates, obsesses, then begins drinking, which turns to shouting, and ultimately smashing her belongings. She questions Nettie, "Is he having an affair? He's always jogging or in that damn garden, plucking away his worries."

"I don't know what Ted does with his time. He's never around!" She laughs.

Her sister digs a rabbit hole, taking her mind to faraway places. Nancy smashes her drinking glass into the mirror. "Damn you, Nettie, stop being toxic!" Her mirror splinters into many pieces, distorting the facts and ugly-ing the truth. Nancy's hands swallow her face.

Nettie laughs, "Don't worry, the night's just getting started," her distorted face runs evil.

A few drinks later, Nancy passes out, exhausted from fighting. Ted, out late, is deep inside New York City's nightlife underbelly.

Around 3 am she hears voices, "Nan-CYYYYYY," her head jerks awake from her pillow. "Nan-CYYYYYYY," she snaps the other way.

Nancy awakens to the sound of light steps and rustling in the kitchen. She takes a nearby fire extinguisher and enters the kitchen, but all she finds are crumbs and trash.

Food and drinks are stolen, like chocolate cake and chicken breasts, a box of crackers, and a bottle of Nancy's wine. "Damn him. He leaves trash all over the place. The jerk could've cleaned up after himself!" She hears rustling. "Who's there? I have a weapon!" She hears nothing, then scrambles in the attic. "Do we have rats now? Damnit, Ted, this old house and all the work that still needs to be done. Couldn't we have stayed in the City?"

She hears more scrambling. "God damn rats! I've got to call an exterminator." Angered, she returns to bed.

She decides instead to change into her silk negligee for Ted. But first, distracted, she pours herself another finger of bourbon, then another, and another. She sits in front of the shattered mirror and combs her hair while "Honesty" repeatedly plays until she passes out.

***

Ted arrives mid-morning, changes his clothes, and heads for a run, "Damnit, Nancy! Can't you keep this place clean? We just moved here a year ago, for shit's sake!" Grabbing the broom, he notices the pantry running bare after buying groceries yesterday. He collects the mail tossed around the kitchen, sorts through the bills, and throws her meds in the trash. "I am so done with all of this chaos."

After finishing his eight-mile run along the Island, he climbs the cliffs. He gloats at his garden and the work to keep it lush and manicured, treading the line between letting go and keeping restrained in his life. He walks around the back of the house towards the basement door.

"What the hell? Damn it, Nancy, are you littering?" picking up food wrappers, where he finds her empty beer cans, a bag of cookies, a carton of berries, and a banana peel. "What is going on?"

He returns to the kitchen and makes a green smoothie, grabbing a banana, kale, almond milk, and protein powder. He tosses back a few vitamins, then reads his phone.

"Thanks for all of the fun last night ;)," it pings.

"Fancy seeing you here. Where the hell have you been? I was waiting around all night." Her anger brews like a pressure cooker.

"I was out with friends. Stayed in the City"

"Why are we here if you're never hOME?" Her volume increases.

His phone pings again. Nancy grabs it, and he tosses it from Nancy's hands. "That's my business, not yours!"

"You ARE my business, remember?"

"And what's with the trash around the kitchen? And on the lawn outside? We just got this place. Why are you turning it into a dump?"

"Don't talk to me like that! What are you talking about? I'm not trashing the kitchen; I thought you were. Besides, I heard some noises upstairs in the attic. We have rats!"

"There are no rats."

"I don't know," she huffs.

"There must be some kids around here littering. I found some beer cans and trash outside. I contacted the neighborhood guard to circle around in his Cruiser."

After calming down, she returns to her bedroom, slams the door, and plays "Honesty" as loud as possible. Maybe Ted's a good guy! I'm just letting my mind wander. I am sleep deprived. Perhaps he's an asshole. Her thoughts spiral. Their song auto-repeats throughout the afternoon and late into the evening.

***

The sun falls into the Bay, and the water mirrors the sky. Nancy, pinning herself inside her room, with boxes of her belongings everywhere, reexamines more old pictures. She recounts famous friends in New York from her younger years, all carefree and fresh-faced. She rummages through her clothing, places a sequined gown on her overweight frame, and stands in front of the mirror.

"Gravity-eeee is such a crappy thing. Keeps our face from bein' pretty-eeee." Nettie serenades and then cackles like a haunted witch.

Nancy spits at her shattered mirror where now there are twenty Netties.

"You've got to do something about that sagging skin of yours. If not, Ted'll snag a hot thing in the City. You know how he is!"

Nancy grabs the clear packing tape, pulls her forehead back to smooth her skin as tightly as possible, and tapes it at her hairline. With another few pieces, she tapes the sides of her eyes to keep her crow's feet from showing. To remove her sagging jowls, Nancy tapes her cheeks. Lastly, she tightens the back of her saggy neck to reveal a smoother neckline. She grabs her brush to soften her remaining hair, attaches her favorite rhinestone earrings, and applies makeup anywhere, looking half zombie and half overdone.

"What have you done?" Her sister's brows fret.

"I'm looking my best." Her slurry speech leaves her somewhere between sober and floaty. Nettie angers her again, hurling insults, "You are such a …."

She focuses her attention when she sees a small, hooded figure in a tiny, cracked mirror pane. Something's moving, and she hears it. The alcohol has rendered her sloppy; she's convinced the figure is real. She hears whispers. She pulls up her dress and runs after the figure, but loses it in the oversized unlit house. The darkness confuses her until she is rendered unconscious when her head is hit with a shovel.

Later that morning, the hooded figure climbs down from the attic. He grabs a box of cereal, a wine bottle, and chips. He discovers the rat poison in the garage, sprinkles some inside the coffee pot, and brews a fresh pot. Next, he slides open the attic crawl space cover and hoists himself up above, perched and waiting.

***

Ted enters from the garden, red with ire. The smell of freshly brewed coffee rouses him from his anger. Nancy awakens from the scent, her head aching. Ted pours himself a cup.

"Pour me one too," grabbing her head, seeing a bloody mess crusting up her hair. He passes her the cup. She goes to take a sip, but his phone pings.

"God damn it, it's 10 am. Can we have some peace for once!"

He winces, "What are you wearing today? And what is going on with your face?" He takes a big swig.

"I'm trying to look pretty for you, Sweetheart."

He takes another gulp. His phone pings again.

She grabs his phone ruthlessly, "Who is this, huh? And why is Steve sending you all these winks? Wait, are YOU and HE ... ?" She finally understands now, why he gives her nothing but iciness.

"It's nothing. It's Steve. We are just fuck buddies" He clears his throat. "My garden is trashed. I, I don't think we have rats. I believe we have a phrogg…." He grabs his throat. He tries to clear it. Instead, he chokes. She hesitates.

He starts to grab at his neck. His face turns from red to blue as he reaches for help.

Her anger intensifies, "Didn't I tell you last time was your last time, Ted? Didn't I, Ted?"

His body writhes in pain. He whispers, "I, I …," as he reaches for her hand. She finishes him with a solid whack to the head with the shovel. He'll never hurt her again because he's a done man.

***

Two days of endless drinking and ongoing yelling at the walls pass while flies swarm around Ted's body. She's passed out, wakened up, dressed, undressed, trashed the house with her hoarding, and taken an axe to the walls.

She awakens on the third day to find Ted missing. Confused, she steps outside to see if he's hiding somewhere. Nancy sees Ted's newly planted shrubs awry. Pulled out and trampled, his roses destroyed, she cries. Her taped face has trouble emoting. "This is what he was telling me. And I, I killed him. I'm so evil. He was so afraid. Look what I did. Look what Nettie did. She made me do it. She did. I gotta, I gotta call the cops." She stands at the cliffs crying hysterically, pulling at her hair, feet covered in fresh mud, looking down at the Bay.

Her sadness subsides when all at once, she feels a solid push to her back. She falls from the ledge, tumbling past the rocks, and plummets hundred-plus feet into the waters.

The quiet house sighs.

"Did you get her?" The blonde woman asks.

"Yeah, I got her alright. I got rid of that crazy woman and tossed the man yesterday off the cliff. I couldn't take another day of his stench or her damn song playing ad-nauseam." The hooded man answers.

"Good, now we have the house back to ourselves again. And we don't have to live in the basement."

Or the attic anymore", he finishes her sentiment.

Nettie, the winner, laughs in the mirror at her twenty reflections surrounding her. She is finally at peace.