Blood Test by Kellerman, Jonathan

Seville and spun out.

I caught a glimpse of him in the rear-view mirror

just before turning onto the street. He was sitting

on the asphalt, head in hands, rocking back and

forth and, I was pretty sure, weeping.

THE BIG black and gold koi was the first to surface,

but the other fish soon followed his lead and within

seconds all fourteen of them were sticking whiskered

snouts out of the water and gobbling down

food pellets as fast as I tossed them in. I knelt by a

large smooth rock fringed with creeping juniper

and lavender azaleas and held three pellets in my

fingers just beneath the surface of the water. The

big one caught the scent and hesitated, but gluttony

got the better of hiTM and his glistening muscular

body. snaked its way over.-He stopped inches from

my hand and looked up at me. ! tried to appear

trustworthy.

The sun was On its way down but enough light

lingered over the foothills to catch the metallic

glint of the gold scales, dramatizing the contrast

with the velvety black patches on his back. A truly

magnificent kin-kioutsuri.

Suddenly the big carp darted and the pellets

were gone from my hand. I replaced them. A red

27

hnd white kohaku joined in, then a platinum ohgon

in a moonlight-colored blur. Soon all the fish were

nibbling at my fingers, their mouths soft as baby

kisses.

The pond and surrounding garden xefuge had

been a gift from Robin during the painful months

of recuperation from the shattered jaw and all the

unwanted publicity. She’d suggested it, sensing the

value of something to calm me down during the

period of enforced inactivity, and knowing of my

fondness for things oriental.

At first I’d thought it unfeasible. My home is one

of those creations peculiar to southern California,

tucked into a hillside at an improbable angle. It’s

an architectural gem with spectacular views from

three sides but there’s very little usable flat land

and I couldn’t envision room for a pond.

But Robin had done some research, sounding out

the idea with several of her craftsmen friends, and

had been put in touch with an inarticulate lad from

Oxnardma young man so outwardly stuporous his

nickname was Hazy Clifton. He had arrived with

cement mixers, wooden forms, and a ton or two of

crushed rock, and had created an elegant, meandering,

naturalistic pond, complete with waterfall and

rock border, that weaved its way in and around the

sloping terrain.

An elderly Asian gnome materialized after Hazy

Clifton’s departure and proceeded to embroider the

young man’s artistry with bonsai, zen grass, juniper,

Japanese maple, long-necked lilies, azalea, and

bamboo. Strategically placed boulders established

meditative spots and patches of snowy gravel-sug-gested

serenity. Within a week the gardenlooked

centuries old.

BLO01- TEST

the deck that bisected the two

levels of the house and look. down on the pond,

letting my eyes trace patterns etched in the gravel

· by the wind, watching the koi, jewellike and tan’.

gid in their movement. Or I could descend to the

floor of the garden and sit by the water’s edge

eeding the fish, the surface breaking gently in concentric

waves.

It became a ritual: each day before sunset I tossed

pellets to the koi and reflected on how good life

could be. I learne, d how to banish unwanted images–of

death and falsehood and betrayal–from my mind

with Pavlovian efficiency.

Now I listened to the gurgling of the waterfall

and put aside the memory of Richard Moody’s

debasement.

· The sky darkened and the peacock-colored fish

grayed and finally melted into the blackness of the

water. I sat in the dark, content, tension a vanquished

enemy.

The first time the phone rang I was in the middle

of dinner and I ignored it. Twenty minutes

later it rang. again and I picked it up.

“Dr. Delaware? This is Kathy from your service.

I had an emergency call for you a few minutes ago

but nobody answered.”

“What’s the message, Kathy?”

“It’s from a Mr. Moody. He said it was urgent.” “Shit.”

“Dr. D?”

“Nothing, Kathy. Please give me the number.”

She did and I asked her if Moody had sounded