A Slight Annoyance
The boys were thirteen when their mother first allowed them to have a real pet. Or in this case, two real pets, for the twins received only fish for their birthday that year. Ma couldn't possibly have afforded a cat or a dog, what with having to buy such an animal food once a week, and making sure the thing had a collar, and all that other hoopla.
In one of her rare moments of lucidity, Ma told the twins they needed to learn some responsibility, and so she took them to the local pet shop and allowed them each to pick out their own fish, fishbowl, and rock decorations for said bowl.
Connor found himself fascinated by the black goldfish, kept separately from the regular goldfish. The black goldfish's fin lines, gill slits, and eye sockets were more pronounced and easily identifiable, and Connor liked the preciseness of the little animal's body. Plus it was kind of cute the way the little guy's body was a little bit chubby, almost like it was a balloon. He chose a small rectangular container for the fish to live in, along with cobalt blue pebbles to scatter over the bottom.
Murphy couldn't tear his eyes away from a cerulean blue guppy that was slowly making its way from one side of its tank to the other. His eyes followed its long, whispy tailfin as it flowed from behind the fish, and he knew that this was the fish he was destined to own. He chose a normal, round bowl for his new pet, and picked out a rock set with a myriad of colors that would perfectly compliment the shade of his fish.
When the boys got home that afternoon they eagerly filled their fishbowls, and set them in a safe place on their respective bedside tables. They didn't dare put either of their pets on the bureau that sat between their beds, facing toward the door from underneath the window, that held the one large lamp that lit their room; they both had to keep many of their more-worn clothes in that piece of furniture, and they were worried that one of them might bump the edge just exactly wrong and send a fish flying to certain destruction.
"What are you going to call yours?" Murphy asked, his soft voice carrying to his brother from across the room.
Connor thought for a moment, his eyes gliding over the black goldfishes subtle contours. He had started reading Edgar Allen Poe lately, because the literature made him feel sophisticated and intelligent, and so he decided that he would call his new friend "Poe."
"Poe?" Murphy cocked an eyebrow as he turned slightly to look over at his twin.
"Aye, Poe. Makes the lil' guy sound smart, doesn't it?" Connor grinned down at Poe, not seeming to notice his brother's stare.
"S'just a fish, Conn. Fish can't be all that smart. Sounds pretentious ta me." Pretentious was a new word the two had learned in their English class at school, and Murphy looked for any excuse to fit it into everyday conversation.
Connor rolled his eyes, ignoring his brother's obvious disdain for his pet's name. "A'right, wiseguy, how about yers, then?"
Murphy's face lit up with a wicked smile. "I'm going to call him Connor."
Connor stared at his twin for a moment, wondering if what Murph had just said was a joke or not; surely he couldn't be serious. Finally, he spoke. "Yer really goin' ta call 'im Connor?"
"Aye."
"Why would ye go an' do a thing like that fer?" Connor's brow furrowed; he was supposed to be the only 'Connor' in Murph's life.
"Maybe it's just 'cause I like ta annoy ye." Murphy's wicked smile turned into a grin at the anger in his brother's expression. He did so much enjoy pushing Connor's buttons.
Connor had nothing more to say to that, so he simply turned back to his fish, the fury boiling under his skin.
Murphy's eyes drifted back to his guppy's tailfin; he did enjoy annoying Connor and making him angry, but he named his fish after his brother for a much different reason than that. This particular guppy was almost the exact shade of blue as his brother's eyes, which were slightly darker than his own, but not only that, Murphy thought that this particular fish was the most beautiful of all the others in that pet store; Murphy also thought that Connor was the most beautiful human being he'd ever known in all his life, and Murph was lucky because Connor was his own flesh and blood brother. This small guppy, being as pretty as it was, needed the proper namesake to showcase just how gorgeous it was, and in Murphy's mind the only person suited to be that namesake was Connor.
Murphy never mentioned that to Connor, however, and so Connor the brother continued to resent Connor the fish.
They bickered a lot over the weeks following. In the mornings the brothers would wake up, and Murphy would say softly "good morning, Connor." Connor the brother, thinking this greeting was for him, would reply with "good morning, Murph." Then Murphy would laugh and shake his head, turning to look at his twin before saying "I was talkin' ta the fish, dummy." Connor's short temper would flare then, and he would jump across the room and onto Murphy's bed, trying his hardest to beat the impudence out of his twin. Things carried on that way for the remainder of the day, and by the end of a month Connor and Murphy both had too many cuts, bruises, and black eyes to count.
Eventually their Ma had had enough. She slammed her half-empty whiskey bottle down on the dinner table, effectively shutting the brothers' quarreling up for a few minutes.
"M'sick ta death a' hearin' the two a' yous cuss an' carry on tha way ya been doin' fer the past weeks. Drivin' me outta me damn mind, it is. M'puttin' a stop ta this nonsense once n' fer all."
The boys exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with confusion and worry. They watched their Ma rise from the table and march down the hallway to their room, and they quickly followed after her.
Murphy stifled a gasp as Ma plucked the fishbowl up from off of his bedside table, and carried it with her to the bathroom.
"This lil' fish s'the source of all this fightin'? Well, not anymore, boyos." She gave them both a stern look filled with vicious fury, and though Murphy wanted to dart forward, grab the bowl from her hands, and run away somewhere to keep his precious pet safe, he knew that the best option now would be to stay put.
Murphy's eyes filled with tears as he watched Ma lift the lid on the toilet, but still he made no sound. Connor placed a hand lightly on his lower back, a way to try to comfort his brother, but he could feel Murph shaking underneath his fingertips.
In one swift motion, Ma dumped the fish, the water, and even the rocks, right into the toilet, then flushed it all away. The tears rolled down Murphy's cheeks as he watched his little guppy swirl around the bowl, his tailfin wriggling as fast as possible against this odd new current, and then get sucked away down the drain, never to return.
Ma tucked the fishbowl under her arm and left the room, making her way back to her alcohol. Once she was gone Murphy let himself break down, sobs tearing their way out of his throat with his tears. His very first pet gone, all because he had named it Connor. Naming it after his brother had seemed a good idea at the time, but it had proved to be a terrible mistake. He really had loved that little guppy, but now he had lost it, because he was a fool.
Connor's arms wrapped around Murphy's shoulders and pulled him into their embrace, one hand rubbing soothing circles into Murph's shoulder blades. He led his twin back to their room, and sat him on the bed, rocking him until his cries subsided.
Finally Murphy sniffed and wiped at his eyes. He didn't look at Connor, but instead stared at the carpeted floor. "M'sorry I named it after ya, Conn. Just thought that fish was beautiful and should have a namesake that represented that."
Connor didn't quite know what to say to that sudden confession, so he just hugged Murphy a little bit tighter. "S'alright, Murph."
A week later, when Murphy was asleep, Connor flushed his precious Poe down the toilet, and moved the tank into a rarely-used cupboard in the kitchen. Murphy noticed the absence, but said nothing, and Connor acted like Poe had never been there in the first place.