No Joy For The Koi

There are two houses adjacent to mine, one on each side. Each house is divided into four apartments, providing many opportunities for misunderstandings amongst all the neighbors.

When last we left the eastern house, last winter, there was a Filipino guy sleeping in a cold, cold Jaguar in the driveway, immediately adjacent to where I parked my car, every night. His girlfriend, a blonde who lived in the house, would bring food out to him, but for some reason usually wouldn't let him stay in the house - was it because R., the former cop with the two kids who lived next to the blonde, would disapprove and call the landlord? In any event, both the blonde and the Filipino were friends with C., the young woman who lived upstairs.

From all the commotion last fall of trading cars, parked cars without plates, vans leaking gasoline, etc., I figured there might be car theft going on next door. There were rumors of other suspect activity, but whether it was drugs or thievery or something else wasn't at all clear. In any event, I said to myself, "God placed these people next door to be your neighbors." I believe the blonde lost her lease this spring, and both her and the Filipino vanished, leaving only neighbor C.

Fast forward to yesterday evening. I drove up about 6 p.m., and all three people were there: C., the Filipino, and the blonde. I hadn't seen C. in so long I thought she might not even live there any more.

After running down the stairs, C. breathlessly said, "I'm SO glad to see you! Do you have an extension cord we can string from your house to my apartment, or perhaps an electric generator?" I had no generator and I demurred about the extension cord: too much could happen to an electrical cord dangling between houses. But why?

"Someone has turned my electric power off! I have a big koi, and he is having trouble breathing! He's going like this..." and she made the desperate faces and gasping sounds of a trapped fish in trouble. The Filipino added, "It's a big koi too! I rigged an electrical cord from the laundry room to the apartment, but we're worried someone might unplug it."

(Hmmm....maybe C. didn't pay her power bill?) I said: "Well, I'm sure that if we let people know about the fish, they won't unplug the cord. When I see R., I will let him know not to unplug the cord."

C. looked down, bit her lip, looked at her solemn friends, who were also looking downcast, and then carefully said: "Actually, please don't mention this to R. at all. To tell you the truth, quite frankly, he has been - less than neighborly." The other two silently nodded.

After C. said to contact her if I knew anyone who wanted a koi, I bid them all good luck and farewell, but I was still worried. R., or anyone else in the apartment building, could unplug the life-sustaining cord, for any reason. A fish would expire fast in the summer heat without the oxygen provided by the air pump. I also wondered why she had a large koi to begin with. Some large koi are expensive. Who would keep a large koi in an apartment anyway? Maybe the koi wasn't hers at all? Who knew? So, despite the advisory, I decided to tell R. about the fish in trouble. I got my chance this afternoon.....

"That is very important, and very interesting, " R. said. We compared notes - SMUD had indeed been at the building yesterday, but R. wasn't aware if anyone's power had been cut off. We speculated whether the koi existed at all, and whether the electrical power was being copped for another purpose, like a MJ garden. Predictably for a former cop annoyed with his neighbors and trying to make the neighborhood safe for his kids, R. called the landlord, and then the police.

When the police arrived, R. called the landlord again, but didn't get an answer the second time, so entry could not even be entertained. But the cop did look into a window into the apartment, and according to R., the cop saw the largest koi he had ever seen, swimming silently around an aquarium....