The Summer I Built a Pond

When I was in elementary school, a boy my age named Uchimura-kun lived in the neighborhood. His father was a very important man, and a large black car would come to pick him up when he went to work. They had a large garden at their house, and in it was a large pond. When I peered into it, I saw many carp and goldfish swimming around, and among them were some goldfish as big as a clenched fist.
Uchimura-kun said,
"This goldfish was just a normal, small goldfish at first, too."
That was the first time I learned that goldfish could grow so large.
— I knew it, you have to keep goldfish in a pond —
I wanted a pond.
"I want you to build me a pond."
When I begged my parents, they flatly refused, saying it was impossible because we were renting the house.
Even so, my desire for goldfish did not fade. One day, I heard from one of my friends that there was a goldfish shop in town, and he guided me there.
There was a large fish tank there, and countless goldfish were swimming in it. Among them were some huge ones like the ones I had seen in Uchimura-kun's pond, and my desire to keep them only grew. When I told the man at the goldfish shop that I didn't have a pond, he taught me how to keep them in an aquarium.
Back then, I often saw round goldfish bowls that looked like lily-of-the-valley flowers turned upward, but he taught me in detail that they were prone to oxygen deficiency, as well as how to change the water, the amount of food to give, and how to use tap water.
Then, after pleading with my parents, they agreed to buy me an aquarium. At the department store's pet corner, I chose the biggest one that our small house would allow. Once I secured a place for it on the sideboard in the parlor, I headed to the goldfish shop with a pounding heart.
"This goldfish will lay eggs soon."
The large red-and-white mottled Ryukin that the man chose for me after saying that became the star of my expectations.
Every day, I would peer into the aquarium, eagerly waiting for it to lay eggs.
One day, I found a magazine for boys that had an article on "how to build your own pond." It involved digging a hole in the garden, covering it with plastic, and filling it with water.
This way, it could be easily filled back in. My parents gave me the OK, they bought me a large, thick sheet of plastic, and a small pond was completed in a corner of the garden.
I called over Uchimura-kun, who had shown me his big pond, and Hosoyamada-kun from next door, and the three of us peered into it.
"You did a good job making this... but it's a bit lonely with just one, isn't it?"
So, I went to the goldfish shop again and bought some companions for it.
I would peer at the goldfish swimming happily many times a day, looking forward to the day they would lay eggs.
One day, when I looked at the pond as usual, I felt like the number of goldfish had decreased. When I counted them, sure enough, one was missing.
"Who on earth stole it?"
I was furious. The faces of the neighborhood brats popped into my head. Was it him? Was it him?
But my mother said,
"Kids don't steal goldfish. There's no point in doing that. It's a cat."
Now that she mentioned it, I thought, that makes sense. Stealing a goldfish is quite a hassle just to imagine.
If the culprit was a cat, there was no way to prevent it. I couldn't keep watch forever. The thought of covering it with wire mesh crossed my mind for a second. But that also felt like... well...
While I was wringing my hands, a problem occurred to add insult to injury. Rain.
While I was on the veranda, the grandmother next door called out to me loudly.
"Your goldfish are washing away!"
I rushed over to find that the heavy rain had caused the pond to overflow, and the goldfish were jumping around on the ground. Some were even washing out into the drainage ditch. I was frantic. I rushed to the kitchen, grabbed a plastic "bowl" used for cooking, ran back to the garden in a panic, and started saving them one by one in the pouring rain. I couldn't tell if the water around my eyes was rain or tears.
The rescued goldfish were thus returned to the aquarium.
If it rains, it overflows. It was just a hole I had dug. Why hadn't I realized such a simple thing? I blamed myself. I felt pathetic. In the end, I couldn't save everyone. Some went missing, some grew weak and died, and the number was reduced by half.
In the lonely aquarium, the one that lived the longest was the big red-and-white mottled Ryukin I had bought first.
"It will lay eggs soon."
Remembering the man's words, I waited impatiently for that day to come. But it never laid any eggs in the end.