About a week after Mr. Hodge passed I received a visit from an associate of Whitney, Bowles and Young. Apparently, Mr. Hodge had remembered me in his will. My family and I had found this out just yesterday when we were called by Eddie Pearl.

Eddie Pearl now stood on the porch; he was clutching a battered old briefcase in his left hand, while his right hand stood paused over the doorbell. His dull face moved into a practiced smile while I peered through the peephole.

“Mr. Winslow, It’s me Eddie Pearl, from Whitney, Bowles and Young… We spoke on the phone yesterday.”

“Sure we did Eddie,” I said solemnly as I opened the front door to my parent’s home,” Come on in. You said there was something about Mr. Hodge’s will that pertained to me?”

Eddie perched himself on the edge of the couch and opened up his secondhand briefcase to the tiny flipping sounds of old brass hinges. He reached inside with a smile and produced three tasseled scrolls.

“Mr. Winslow, upon the reading of the will last Tuesday, it appears that you have the sole pleasure of inheriting his three Imperial Koi.”

“But shouldn’t they go to his daughters?”

“One would think, and so did his daughters… they are rather upset by this whole scenario,” He spoke curtly.

He clutched those scrolls tight enough to cause his knuckles go white, and then closed his eyes and relaxed his grip with a calculated smile.

“Take the scrolls Mr. Winslow.”

I gently gripped them, and unrolled a portion of one and tried to read the oriental characters that were written upon the aged rice paper.

“What does this say, Eddie?”

“Those documents are legal proof that the three Koi which you now possess are in fact Imperial Koi, No doubt they are the three oldest living Koi in the world each believed to be at least 175 years of age. You have also received access to the pond in the backyard for the next five years, after which the care and upkeep fund which was set aside for them by Mr. Hodge will have been depleted and you will have had to establish a new permanent residence for them.”

“ What….”

“Otis, Mr. Hodge is obviously a very generous man. To leave such a valuable gift to such a young man as yourself is not only unheard of, why it is practically obscene.”

I stared down at the aged scrolls with disbelief; dumbfounded I said nothing but nodded for Eddie to continue.

“As I was saying, you will have access to the fishpond in the backyard of 137 Sycamore Lane in Dallas, TX. Mr. Hodge also set up a small trust for the upkeep of the pond, and the care of the fish, by our accounts this trust will only last 5 years. Due to the impending nature of this matter, and the fact that Mr. Hodge left the most valuable asset in his estate to the care of a minor, and also as representatives of Mr. Hodge’s estate and children we will be filling a formal contest against the will’s validity.”

I looked up at Mr. Pearl,” What do you mean, Contest the validity of the will?”

“Quite simply, Mr. Winslow, A boy of 16 has hardly any business tending to the care of Imperial Koi. Imperial KOI, Mr. Winslow. Did Mr. Hodge tell you nothing about them?

“Well he taught me how to take care of the pond and how to feed them,”

“Mr. Winslow, I do not have time to explain all of this to you, if all goes well with our proceedings Mr. Hodge’s daughters will have this matter cleared up in less than 3 weeks. We at Whitney, Bowles and Young feel it is of good moral character for all involved in this matter to adhere to the original will’s intent. So until this matter can be cleared up we would request your assistance in taking care of their Imperial Koi.”

Eddie didn’t look like much of anything, but did he know how to brow beat me.

“Mom, The guy from those Lawyers is here.”

My mom strode in from the backroom, dressed as if it were Sunday morning.

“Well hello Eddie, awfully nice of you to drop by, especially since Otis wasn’t even invited to the reading of the will. Isn’t that against the law, Eddie?”

“Mrs. Winslow, as you already know we were unaware of any changes Mr. Hodge made to his will prior to his death. He had filled a new will with another law firm only a few days before his unfortunate accident.”

“Mr. Hodge intended for Otis take care of those fish and by God he’ll take care of those fish.”
Eddie pulled his briefcase open with a flourish.

“Mrs. Winslow, we don’t really want this to get out in the public, do we?”

“I’m beginning to think we do, Don’t we Otis?”

I nodded my head vigorously, while Mom championed us forward.

“Mrs. Winslow, we are prepared to take this matter to court and contest this will. The matter will be resolved by an old republican judge, who will more than likely side with the plaintiffs. Or we can do this the easy way.”

Mom grabbed a chair and sat down with Eddie.

“Let’s hear about this so called Easy Way, I’m listening.”

“Mrs. Winslow, have you ever heard of Imperial Koi?”

My mother turned white, and she said softly to me “Otis you need to leave hon, why don’t you go look after Mr. Hodge’s Koi for a bit.”

“What a splendid idea, Run along Otis, and look after the Koi, I don’t think anyone has looked after them since the burial.”

My mom looked at me and smiled, “Go ahead, Otis.”

I slumped out of the recliner and headed out the front door. Jumped on my bike and headed straight to Mr. Hodge’s house.

I climbed over the fence, as I had always done and went to the edge of the slightly murky pond.

As my shadow hit the pond the three sisters came to the surface sniffing, and croaking out a loud and deep oinking sound that could only mean one thing.

“Just a second, I know you are hungry, let me get into the shed and I’ll get you some food.”

Luckily no one had locked the rickety tin shed’s door; I grabbed the jar of Lucky Golden Carp Pellets from the shelf, and went back to the pond, where the three Koi had practically beached themselves onto the shore of the pond.

“Get back in the water, silly girls,” I said with a smile,” I’ve got dinner right here.”

They flopped themselves back in the water and dashed around the edges of the pond in a clockwise pattern that zigged and zagged in front of one another as I came closer to feeding area of the pond.

I reached into the jar and pulled out a small handful of pellets and chucked them into the center of the pond and before the pellets had time to get wet all of them had been devoured by the ravenous fish. As I watched their frenzy, I was glad that Mr. Hodge had kept Koi instead of Piranha.

I reached in for another fistful of pellets, and my hand brushed up against something.

Forgetting about the food, I pulled an envelope out of the Koi food jar that simply read “For Otis”.

The windup chick hopped its way over the edge of the table to be caught in a gnarled hand as a small new stumpy hand tried to grasp at it before it fell. The old man’s hand was far quicker and it held up that fuzzy yellow fake chick in front of his face. His old eyes smiled down at the young boy, as the little clockwork toy popped its legs around until the spring had done its final sprung. The wide eyed child stared in awe as the miraculous toy slowly fell asleep in the leathery hand of his grandpa.

“Do it again,” the young boy shrilled.

Placing his index finger upon the plastic feet of the wind up toy he turned the key to the sounds of clicks and springs growing tight with tension. The young child’s eyes grew quite large in rapt attention as his grandfather placed the little fake bird in the center of the table again.
It hopped and bounced, little fluffy feathers molting from it as it wobbled its way across the table.

As it reached the edge of the table again it stopped itself just in time before it would have committed a reenactment of nose diving bankers on black Tuesday. The boy’s grandfather had been prepared to catch it as he had done before, and smiled down at the young boy as they both reached for the toy again.

Instead of picking up the toy he slung the child into his waiting lap and encouraged him to get the small chick.

“I think you are big enough to give it a whirl,” He said grandly.

With awe the young child reached out and with both hands he pulled it to himself with enthusiasm. His pudgy little hand found its way to the over sized key and remembering how his grandfather had braced the legs of the little bird before he wound the key, he did the same.

Ever so gently he turned the key for a single click of the springs within and set it upon the old mahogany table and set the little chick down to watch it do its dance. It barely bobbed once before it had stopped completely exactly where it had started.

The young boy looked quizzically at his grandfather and said,” It’s broken”.

“No it isn’t, you just didn’t give it enough turns of the key,” the grandfather said through labored breath, “ keep on turning that key until it doesn’t budge and then little that little chicken go.”

The young boy grabbed the chicken off the table and proceeded to do as his grandfather had instructed.

His little hands had trouble keeping the feet braced as his grandpa had done and once during the turning of the key he had lost his grip upon the plastic feet and sure enough the little toy sprung to life in his hands as he tried to wind it up.
It popped right out of his hands and bounced across the floor under the table.

The little boy scampered under the table after the toy as quickly as he could, picked it up and jumped back into his grandfather’s lap with such force that grandpa let out a small gasp of air. He held on tightly to the toy as he rewound it and with the final turn of the key he set it upon the table and watched the little chicken do its dance.

“Grampaw… look it… look it,” he screamed as he jumped up and down in his grandpa’s lap while pointing at the toy as it danced all over the table. The toy headed straight for the edge of that old mahogany table and when grandpa’s hand should have been there to catch it as he had done so many times before… Grandpa did not move.

The little chicken bounded off of the table and tumbled to the floor with its little legs kicking out as it toppled. It landed with a crash and the old springs within came springing from their tightly wound encasement with a symphonic sound of gears and coils resounding about the room. The threadbare yellow feathers cascaded down through the air while the gears and cogs rolled all over the hardwood floors, bouncing off of the fireplace bricks and rebounding back to the floor.

With tears in the little boy’s eyes he climbed down from his grandfather’s lap and tried to gather up all the broken pieces and loose feathers that had accumulated around it. His little hands overflowing with the broken pieces he tottered back to his grandfather’s lap and laid the pieces in front of him on the table.

“I broke it Grampaw, I sorry”, he said through his tear stained eyes.
“Fix it”, he cried out impatiently to the unmoving man.

He jumped up and down on his bottom trying to get some kind of response out of the old man, but his grandfather did not move.

“Grampaw?” he asked as he turned himself about to look at the old man.

Turning about quickly until he was standing on his grandfather’s lap, he grabbed the sides of the old man’s face and looked deeply into his cold lifeless eyes. His mouth was still upturned in a soft grin, and his right hand casually lay across the table.

“Grampaw… GRAMPAW!!!” the child screamed as he shook his grandpa with all his might.

Like the little chicken, the little boy realized his grandpa had stopped moving as well. Perhaps he too was broken.
The little boy grasped the old man’s left ear and tried to turn it like the key on the now broken wind up toy, but it wouldn’t budge. He tried to turn his right ear in the same manner, but it too wouldn’t budge.

“Grammy… Grammy,” the little boy cried. “The chicken’s broken… and I think Grampaw is too.”

The little boy’s grandmother found her husband sitting there with the little boy standing in his lap over the broken chicken trying desperately to put the clockwork toy back together again, but it was pointless. He would get one spring back under the wing of the little toy bird only to watch the little yellow head fly off due to the pressure of the springs.

“After I get done wif this, I’ll fix Grampaw next.” He said exasperatedly while his grandmother cried over her husband’s still form.