Kelvin

I could probably handle a goldfish. That’s what I told my girlfriend, Rachel, when she asked me if I have ever considered getting myself a pet. That was probably two months ago when I said that, so it came to me as a total surprise when she gave me a fish for Valentine’s Day.

I have never had any kind of pet whatsoever. My parents were completely against the concept for most of my life and, to be perfectly honest, I never felt like I was missing very much, if anything at all. My sister had an evil, black dog named Junior once. That man-eating fiend shared my backyard, and that’s the closest I ever got to the strange world of animal ownership. I never really understood what it was all about. Why would a person want to deal with that kind of responsibility?

Nevertheless, I found myself strangely pleased with this gift of aquatic life, this blue, and red, and maybe green King Betta in it’s very own fishbowl complete with shiny, blue rocks, and a tiny castle. I was instantly attached to the little bastard, and a little bit terrified at my sudden obligation to keep him alive. After all, I can barely take care of myself sometimes, but I’m not the kind of person who takes lightly the duties that come with possessing a living creature.

Then Rachel proceeded to harass me all weekend long about what name I might give to the thing. I was paralyzed beneath the heavy weight of assigning a word to describe the poor creature for the duration of it’s worldly consignment. After all, who knows how long he might be forced to carry around that proper noun?

But, as I drove home in the wee hours of Sunday night/Monday morning, with my fish riding shotgun beside me, I finally decided that this new companion of mine should be named Kelvin. There is an incredibly deep and esoteric reasoning behind that name, but I’m not going to tell it to you here. There’s no time for that. And besides, I’m quite certain you don’t need to know, and I’d be willing to bet you don’t even care. And that is part of the reason for the name. I’ve given away too much now.

Who knows what mysteries are born in the early mornings of South Salt Lake? Kelvin and I know the answer to that question, and because of that we speak to no one. That’s good enough for now.