A - Fishphilia

Once upon a time, Merlin sat on the toilet.
"I was never good at home. Rules just weren't made for me."
Neep, his elder brother sat beside him, and commiserated.
"Its five feckin' years since Dad lost his mind with Aoife"
Kate, their sister, blew smoke out of the window.
"He's out of his tree"
"He's got fishphilia". Neep agreed. They were hiding in the bathroom
from Aoife, their stepmother.
"Are you children coming to supper?" she squawked up the stairs.
"Just one moment".
"Shall we?" said Merlin.
"Shall we?" said Neep. "Dave, are you down there?"
Dave, who lived at the bottom of the very long toilet pipe, called
up.
"Alright, get down here."
"Ah, here we go again" said Neep, as he slipped head first into the
toilet.
They spent the happiest days of their childhood in the sewage pipe
under the house. A chorus of moving seafood lived there, crabs,
dogfish, catfish, and the occasional walruses. But they mainly went
there for the plaice and chips. Perfect, with a bit of mayonnaise and
curry sauce.
It wasn't exactly a treehouse, but it did alright. Neep had the looks,
Kate had the brains, and Merlin had a turnip, that he carried with him
everywhere, and a handkerchief he used, because he'd usually get water
up his nose. Kate was allergic to seaweed. Neep - thirteen years old,
was both literally and metaphorically in the deepest shit, since he
homemade a bomb to throw up Aoife's skirt. He had rolled it under the
table, lit the fuse, and she went wild. Slammed him in the bathroom for
five days, which was how he had found his way down to the sewage pipe
in the first place. It was Merlin who had found Smith, a tramp who
lived in the pipe, and had the boots, the smoke, the smile, to make
them feel alright. So whenever Aoife went crazy, they clicked their
heels, lifted the seat, and slipped down.
"Does my hair look ok?" asked Neep
"you're fine" said Kate.
"Oh shit," said Neep. "Help I'm - oh god"
He had lost his shoe in the water, and was feeling for it with his arm
up to his elbow in muck. Oh fuck."
"Listen, I'll carry you"
"Carry me?"
"Yeah, fireman's lift"
"Don't be ridiculous, I don't want to look effeminate"

"Breakfast! Breakfast! Oi!"
Aoife's screech echoed down the pipe.

Smith liked to introduce the children to various members of the sewage
community. Standing kneedeep in the muddy water.
"That's the vampyrotentis infermatis, the vampire squid from hell. Or
Bob, as he prefers to be known. Listen, Merlin," Smith looked through
his bedraggled hair, and took two yellow fingers to his cigarette. He
gave Merlin an intense look.
"Is Aoife still trying to iron you?"
"Not this morning - she told me I reminded her of a mosquito she used
to know."
"Children!" came the voice again.
"If you listen, you can here the chorus of seahorses" said Smith.
"Sorry mate, we'll come back later. If Aoife doesn't deep fry us first.
She wants to murder us."
"I'm slightly afraid she wants to deep fry my testicles" said Neep.
They squirmed up the toilet pipe again. "Goodbye Smith," said Kate. She
threw him a kiss down the toilet pipe, and thought, there's a reason
why sewage pipes aren't noted for romance. The children towelled
themselves off, flicked off remaining pieces of seaweed, ("Oh my god,
that's disgusting. That's the last time I'm ever doing that. God" said
Neep) Then they tramped into the kitchen, for their cold scrambled
eggs. They dripped sludge on the kitchen floor.
"Merlin. Kate. Neep"
(this last "Neep" was pronounced with Neep with utter disparagement, as
If Neep was the lowest form of life"
"You look remarkably soggy. What, have you wet yourselves or something?
Aoife slammed down a teapot onto the table.
"Merlin, get changed, you look like a wart. Your father's home."

Their father was indeed sitting at another table in the kitchen. But
the words rang hollow. Lir had long ceased to operate as any sort of
conventional father. He crouched over a fishbowl, dropping small orange
flakes of fishfood into it.
"Hello dad" said Merlin, and rolled his eyes. Lir was attempting to
record the language of goldfish. For this purpose, he had bought an old
fashioned gramophone, and the fishbowl sat and rotated on the
turntable. The fish rotated for several hours a day. Merlin thought it
must be dizzy, or demented, by now.

"Fanuijaliten, yahini?" Lir muttered, Aoife placing a hand on his
shoulder.
"Darling," she began-
"I'm working - Faglytiffle. Ya - hi - ni"

Aoife stood behind him, as he jotted down words, phrases into a
notebook beside the bowl, while her children ate.

"Asintey? Fasintey bob? Fastinity?"
"Lads" she said. "You'd better go and get ready." They trooped out.
Once out the door, Neep turned to Merlin.
"I'm not fuckin' going. She'll kill me. Listen." He gripped Merlin's
shoulder and looked at him. They froze stood - half way up the
stairs.
"Its just not on." Aoife was saying in the kitchen. "You know, I've had
it up to here. Last night they got into the kitchen, poured chocolate
spread everywhere. You know, its my kitchen. I'm really at the end of
my tether here. Are you listening to me? Lir. Lir!"
"Those children have the social charm of the black death. They borrow
my perfume, they dress up in my clothes, they try to set light to me
while I'm asleep. Well, I've had it. They're going to stay with their
grandfather, on permanent loan. Then we'll see about a place to send
them to school. Agreed? That's settled then. We're off."