CH 13: Guest with Gills
It began with the doorbell.
Nana's house hadn't heard a proper doorbell in weeks. Most people knocked, yelled, or hurled polite pebbles at the window.
So when the sound rang—bright, cheery, and suspiciously in tune—everyone stopped what they were doing.
Carl froze halfway through re-labeling the pantry's bean collection. Ellie dropped her glitter marker mid-sparkle. Toby flinched, spilled a handful of thumbtacks, then hissed, "They've found us!"
Nana casually grabbed her garden trowel and moved to the front door.
She cracked it open one inch.
And there he stood: shirtless, sunburned, and proudly holding a fishbowl.
"Heyyyy!" Delgado grinned, sunglasses askew. "It's me! And Peppino!"
Carl leaned over Nana's shoulder. "Delgado? What—how—why?"
"Apocalypse road trip!" Delgado beamed. "Also, Peppino's been getting moody. He needed a change of scenery."
The fish, Peppino, swam in slow, brooding circles like he was re-evaluating all his life choices. His little castle leaned dramatically to one side.
Nana squinted. "You walked twenty miles with a fish?"
"Not just walked." Delgado tapped his rollerblades. "Zoomed."
There was a long silence.
Ellie appeared behind Carl. "He brought the fish. He's in."
---
They cleared a space on the kitchen counter for Peppino, next to the toaster and beneath the emergency cookie stash.
"Don't tap the glass," Delgado warned. "He's been through things."
Carl stared. "Like what?"
Delgado whispered, "Existential dread. And I think he's developing a superiority complex."
Peppino flicked his fins dramatically.
Toby scribbled in his notebook. "Adding to my aquatic paranoia chart."
"Chart?" Delgado asked.
"Top ten creatures likely to overthrow us. Fish just overtook geese."
---
That night, they played board games.
Delgado wore a bathrobe over his bare chest. Peppino got a front-row seat.
Carl lost at Scrabble. Again. Ellie spelled "zombified" using all her letters and a smug grin. Toby insisted the dictionary had been altered by pre-apocalypse propaganda.
Delgado tried to play a ukulele he didn't know how to tune.
"I'm writing a song," he announced.
"Is it about Peppino?" Ellie asked.
"It's called 'Bubble Rage and Roller Skates.'"
"Of course it is," Carl said.
Nana made lemonade.
"Lime," she corrected. "We don't speak of lemons anymore."
Peppino stared through his bowl like a silent judge.
---
They ended the night on the porch. Delgado told stories of the people he'd seen on the road—a guy building a throne of Spam cans, a band of accordion players who only knew funeral music, and a town that worshipped a vending machine called "Snacktron."
"Sounds fake," Carl muttered.
Delgado nodded solemnly. "I have postcards."
"Of course you do."
Peppino burbled.
Ellie leaned on Carl's shoulder. "Weird people are the best people."
Carl looked at Delgado—rollerblades propped beside him, ukulele in his lap, and a fish staring into infinity.
"Yeah," he said. "I think I get that now."
---
Day 13.
The next morning, Peppino's bowl was fogged up. Delgado paced around it, whispering affirmations.
"Rise and swim, my aquatic prince. Conquer the tank. Reject your castle. You are the treasure."
Carl walked in, half-asleep, and poured coffee. "We need rules for houseguests."
"Rule #1," Nana said without looking up from her crossword, "No shirtless rollerbladers before sunrise."
Toby entered with an origami helmet and said, "Peppino blinked three times. That's a fish yes."
"Great," Ellie sighed. "We're running a full fantasy novel now."
Outside, a chicken screamed.
Delgado gasped. "To the coop!"
He ran out with his bathrobe flapping like a cape, Carl chasing after him, mug still in hand.
Ellie peeked at the fish. "Are you the normal one here?"
Peppino swam in solemn circles. Ellie nodded.
"Cool. You're in charge now."
---
Delgado stayed for exactly one day.
That was long enough.
In just 24 hours, he managed to:
Start a house yoga session called "Zen and the Art of Rollerblade Maintenance."
Create a one-man band performance with a ukulele, a triangle, and spoons he borrowed without asking.
Host a "Fish TED Talk" where he discussed Peppino's views on global diplomacy using interpretive dance.
Carl was tired by hour two.
---
It started with breakfast.
Delgado burst into the kitchen at 6:02 AM wearing goggles and oven mitts.
"Morning, breakfast buddies! I've invented apocalypse granola—sun-dried raisins, optimism, and crushed tortilla chips!"
Nana squinted at him, unamused. "You broke into the pantry."
"Emotionally, yes."
Carl sipped his coffee slowly, eyes closed. "Why is your fish wearing a scarf?"
Peppino floated proudly in his bowl, now adorned with a tiny scrap of yarn.
"It's his power sash," Delgado explained. "He's achieved level 2 enlightenment."
Toby whispered, "He's evolving."
---
By noon, Delgado had rearranged the living room furniture for "optimal chi flow," attempted to teach Ellie tai chi using only dance moves from an '80s workout video, and tried to convince Nana to let him smoke a fish "for ritual purposes."
"I mean literally," he clarified. "Smoke it. With mesquite."
"You're not touching my trout supply," Nana said flatly.
He slunk away, mumbling something about "spiritual oppression."
Peppino gave him a judgmental bubble.
---
Later, Delgado discovered the attic.
"This place is a goldmine!" he shouted, holding up a disco ball and a stuffed raccoon in a party hat.
"We do not question the attic," Nana barked.
Delgado nodded solemnly. "Of course. Secret shrine. Got it."
He placed the raccoon gently on the coffee table.
"I name him Inspector Squeezums."
Carl looked at Toby.
Toby nodded. "100% haunted."
---
By dinner, Delgado had somehow convinced everyone to participate in "Apocalypse Talent Time," which was just a hastily organized talent show with Peppino as the judge.
Toby performed a poem titled "The Tinfoil Inside Me." Nana demonstrated knife-throwing using old carrots. Ellie did stand-up comedy based solely on Carl's bad cooking.
> "What's the difference between Dad's lasagna and a zombie? One bites you slowly. The other just collapses emotionally."
Carl got a solid 6.5 from Peppino.
Then Delgado took the stage (the rug).
He sang an emotional ballad titled "Bubble Rage (Peppino's Lament)" which included the lyrics:
> "He's a fish, he's a prince, he has no fence— But he's trapped in a bowl and has no cents."
Peppino turned around in his bowl and farted a bubble.
"Brutal," Ellie whispered. "That's a zero."
---
After dinner, Delgado climbed to the roof with a lawn chair, a glow stick necklace, and a juice box.
"I must commune with the sky. Peppino needs a weather forecast."
Nana shook her head. "I'll give him a forecast. It's 80% chance of shovel."
Toby taped a 'DO NOT ENCOURAGE' sign to the ladder.
Carl found himself strangely sentimental.
"You sure you're leaving tonight?"
Delgado stood majestically against the sunset. "The wind calls me. The road sings. And also I ran out of clean socks."
He hugged Ellie, fist-bumped Toby, offered Nana a ceremonial fish scale (she declined), and gave Carl a photo.
"I took this of you yesterday. You were sneezing. It's perfect."
Carl stared at the blurry image. "I hate how meaningful this is."
Delgado snapped his rollerblades on, hoisted Peppino under one arm like a sacred orb, and saluted.
"Farewell, my weirdoes! May your chickens stay sane and your beans be pre-soaked!"
He zoomed down the hill, yelling "SKATE OR FEED!"
Then promptly tripped over a rake and rolled into a bush.
From the leaves: "I meant to do that!"
---
Silence returned.
Ellie picked up Inspector Squeezums. "He left his raccoon."
Toby adjusted its party hat. "We must honor his memory."
Carl walked over to Peppino's now-empty spot.
He found a tiny laminated note:
> "You're all bananas. Never change. – P."
Carl taped it to the fridge.
"He was chaos," Nana muttered. "But at least he didn't try to milk the chickens."
Ellie grinned. "Give it time."
---
End of Chapter 13 – Guest with Gills
> "Some guests bring fish. Some bring madness. Delgado brought both, and we're better for it. Slightly more exhausted, but better."
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