Italo's Goldfish

      "Juliet! Juliet's dead!" I heard the shout of my son, Italo. I ran downstairs. I found Italo crying, facing his fishbowl. Inside the fishbowl were two fishes, the other is motionless, floating in the water, upside down. The other fish is still alive, circling round and round its dead mate.
      "Juliet's dead, mama." Italo cried still. "What will happen to Romeo without her?"
      "He'll live, honey."
      I stared at the dead fish again. It was my gift for Italo's fourth birthday. I had asked him what he wanted and he had said, "Buy dinosaur, mama."
      "They're all dead, dear."
      "Okay, just a lion then."
      "How about a goldfish?"
      Italo thought about it for a minute, then he nodded. I then drove my car to the nearest pet store and bought him two fishes.
      Since that day, Italo took good care of his pets. He named them Romeo and Juliet based on the book I was reading that time. He loved them as if they were human.
      But now, it broke his heart to know that the one he named Juliet is dead.
      "Is Romeo sad, mama?"
      "I bet he is."
      "How do we know a fish is crying? Is he crying?"
      "We can't tell, honey." I answered his question. "He's in the water."
      "He's lucky. There's no need for him to hide."
      I thought about what Italo said. He's right.
      People, especially men, don't cry in front of other people because they don't want to be called weak.
      So what?
      For me, crying is not a sign of weakness. It's bravery. Those who do not cry are the ones we should call weak. Because they're afraid to cry.
      Italo was still crying when the front door swung open. My husband, Derek came in. He saw Italo crying on my shoulders.
      "Italo!" he shouted at my son.
      Italo turned his head to where Derek was. I saw fear in his eyes.
      "Why are you crying?"
      "Juliet's dead, papa." Italo told his father.
      "Bullshit!" Derek roared. "You're a man! Don't act as if you're wearing a skirt!"
      "Derek--" I tried to stop him.
      "You shut up!" he told me. He turned again at Italo. "Italo, don't you dare let me see another drop of tear come out of your eyes again!"
      Italo stood up. He ran to the front door and opened it.
      "Son, where are you going?" I called at him.
      "I don't want papa to see me cry, mama." Italo said, closing the door at the same time.


      I cleaned the fishbowl after throwing out the dead fish. I carried the bowl back to the living room, inside it was the fish Italo called Romeo.
      It's been an hour already but Italo's still not back.
      I stared at the fish swimming inside the fishbowl. I remembered Italo's words.
      How do we know a fish is crying? Is he crying?
      We can't tell, honey. He's in the water. I had said.
      He's lucky. There's no need for him to hide.
      It was then that realization hit me.
      I don't want papa to see me cry, mama.
      "Oh my God!" I let out a scream.
      I ran out of the house.
      But I was too late.
      There, floating on the pool, was Italo's body, motionless, dead.
      He was hiding his tears.


      After we buried Italo, everyone went home to their houses except me and Derek. We both stood above Italo's grave.
      "Oh, son.." Derek cried again. "Papa loves you. You know that, right?"
      I stared at him. He stared back.
      I slapped his face.
      "Don't you dare cry now!" I screamed at him. "You're a man! Don't act as if you're wearing a skirt!"
      After spitting at him his own words, I left him.
      For good.