Max.

In a jar on a shelf in a large house lived a fish.

Not just any fish, but what some might call, a Fighting Fish.

Polite conversation would name him as a Betta, but to small Children and adults with a taste for the unusual, Fighting Fish he was.

Born into captivity, he was not at all displeased to be kept in a jar; in fact this jar (a large old Maxwell House Coffee jar to be precise) was more than adequate for the small fish. You see, Fighting Fish, or Bettas as we shall call them from here, are quite at home in small spaces, from a little pond to something as strange as an Elephant’s footprint in the Jungle, these clever fish have worked out how to survive.

By breathing the air that we Humans do, they can exist in just enough water to keep them wet, and most importantly…Alive.

Now, we have dealt with the jar, and a shelf is a shelf, wherever you put it, but the house…well this house was a special one.

In most countries around the world, you will find small outposts of other countries. These are called Embassies and they are there to represent that group of people’s interests abroad.

Embassies or Consulates can be found in most capital cities and this one was no exception. The city that we find our fish in is called Krung Thep, by the people who live there, but most people call it Bangkok, and it is the capital of a country called Thailand.

This particular Embassy belonged to Great Britain and was run by a man called an Ambassador. This man represented his country in Thailand and whilst his was an official position that kept him very busy with lots of functions and dinners, he still insisted upon having his family live at the embassy at the same time.

The living quarters were like any normal family home, except that the ambassador’s family had a housekeeper who did all of the cleaning and cooking.

The family in question consisted of a wife, who was named Sonia and two children, a girl called Victoria who was twelve and a boy called Michael who was eleven.

One day, Michael and his mother travelled to some markets to buy clothes and became a little lost in the maze of stalls and people all calling out “you buy? You buy” as they walked past.

Eventually they found a large stall that sold the kind of clothes that Michael’s mother wanted and she began to bargain with the lady that ran it.

Michael’s mother wanted a rather colourful silk dress and was not prepared to pay the high price that was being asked. At first, she said that she would pay half, but gradually worked up to what she thought the dress was worth (and so did the lady who ran the stall) Not wanting to back down, both ladies realised that they had reached an impasse and were searching for a solution when the Thai lady noticed Michael admiring a small fish that she kept in a bowl on the counter.

‘You like my fish little boy?’ She asked.

Michael nodded shyly and looked at his mother as if to say ‘yes, I would really like one of these.’

The Thai lady said, ‘tell you what, you pay price and I give you fish, very valuable lucky fish, I keep here bring me good luck, but you can have with dress for price…yes?’

Michael piped up, ‘oh please Mother, can we, I would love a pet, and it won’t take up too much space, please, please.’

‘Oh alright,’ said his mother, realising that she was trapped, and quickly counted out the money for the dress, which in Thailand is called Baht, whilst the lady poured the fish into a small bag and tied a knot in the top.

She handed over the fish with a small bag of food and smiled as they walked away. Watching until they were around the corner, she reached under the counter and selected another fish from many jars of fish and poured it into the bowl.

And so came into the embassy a fish called Max, named by Michael’s Mother from the coffee jar that he was given to live in.

Max quite liked his coffee jar in fact.

Bigger than the teacup-sized bowl that he was previously used to, he found that he could swim around more and even see part of his reflection in what was left of the label on the outside.

This caused Max much confusion, as he constantly thought that there was an intruder and was always ready to defend his jar with fins outstretched and gills flared.

Michael loved this, and spent hours watching his fish display, declaring him a champion of all fighting fish.

‘Champion of all fighting fish,’ thought Max as he lazily floated around the jar. ‘Maybe I am the best fighting fish in the world; maybe I am the king of Bettas? If the human thinks so, then it must be true; I am the king and my people are waiting for my triumphant return.’

As if to cement this thought, he went on a rampage against his reflection once more, just to flex his fins and convince himself that he was indeed the best of the Bettas.

Max did not mind too much that he was confined to his jar, after all, it was warm, he was fed every day and once a week his water was changed.

What fish could want for more?

Most fish it would seem, as max spent a lot of his time wondering about exactly what was out there in the world and if at some time, he might get to see it.

He knew that there were rivers and trees and a sky with clouds in it, for he had seen all of these when he belonged to the lady at the market, but he knew there was more, more fish to meet and perhaps adventures to be had?

But how would he achieve all of this?

Max had more than a short moment to ponder, in fact all he did was ponder and dream about who he was and where he came from as nothing much happened in Michael’s bedroom, aside from visits from the family’s terrible cat (which he did not look forward to at all) and when Michael was actually in his room (usually sleeping).

Over the next short space of time, Max thought more and more about his heritage and could not stop wondering how he might find a way to prove that he was who he thought he was.

But he would get a chance…

One night, all was quiet at the embassy.

Michael, his sister and their parents were all on holiday, and had been for a week now, the only person allowed in the building was Mae the housekeeper. She would come in and feed Max before checking if everything was ok and feeding the embassy cat, Simon.

A Cat that Max had an uneasy relationship with as Simon was not allowed into Michael’s bedroom where Max lived, but on occasion whenever he could slip past Mae he would jump up onto the shelf and whisper to Max just how, one day he was going to eat him and how enjoyable that would be.

But tonight there was no sign of Simon, nor of Mae, and the sound of silence throughout the building was deafening.

Max decided that, as he was not going to get any supper that he might just as well have a sleep. But his dozing was interrupted by a loud crack! Sound coming from another room.

This was followed by much banging and crashing, with the noises getting closer by the minute.

Max wondered what all of the commotion could be, but was not afraid, as the self-appointed King of all Bettas, he was ready for anything that might happen and he puffed his fins up imperiously.

At that moment the bedroom door opened and a man appeared, a small man that briefly scanned the entire room from the doorway as if he were looking for something of value (which he was).

His gaze settled on the fully displaying Max and he smiled. Jumping into the room, he scooped up the jar and made his way down the stairs to the living room where another man waited amongst a large pile of what looked like papers and folders.

‘What are you doing with that?’ Asked the other man.

‘Taking him as well, look,’ he replied as he held up the jar for inspection.

‘Always looking for the next champion aren’t you?’

‘Yes, I never miss an opportunity and this one looks like he could be the one.’

‘Ayah! You say that about every new one, now just hurry up and let’s get out of here before somebody comes around. You know they have a security guard who checks randomly don’t you, and just because he was here last night at this time, does not mean he won’t come back again tonight.’

Don’t fret, he never comes at the same time, that’s what I have been watching for, we have plenty of time.

But they did not, because a loud alarm went off right above their heads and they both panicked.

Grabbing Max’s jar and a large bag, one of the men ran for the door, closely followed by the other who had another bag slung over his shoulder.

Through all of the commotion, Max could see where they were headed.

Through the broken back door and out into the night toward a small motorbike that was propped against the chain link fence at the back of the property.

As the first man jumped aboard, placing Max in a pannier that hung over the bike’s handlebars, a group of uniformed security guards grabbed the second man and a loud struggle ensued.

Not waiting for his accomplice, the first man started the motorbike with a roar and sped away onto the road that adjoined the embassy.

Max could see bright lights flashing past and could hear the occasional shout from people that the man was nearly running over, as he was driving on the pavement as well as the road, weaving in and out of the traffic in order to get away as quickly as possible.

Sirens wailed in the distance, but as the minutes passed, they faded and eventually ceased, causing the motorcycle to slow and casually pass through the press of cars, bicycles and people.

Not daring to look, but looking anyway, Max could see that they were moving into a different part of town where tall buildings became fewer and shacks became the norm.

After what seemed an age, they eventually stopped outside a large shed-like structure with an open front and legs that stuck out to hold it up over a vast swamp-like riverfront.

The man jumped off of the bike and grabbed his bag along with Max and went inside the shack quickly, for it had begun to rain quite hard and a storm was brewing.

Placing the jar on a large shelf next to many other jars, the man switched out the light quickly, plunging Max into complete darkness and confusion.

After some minutes, he could hear other voices, confused and jumbled at first, but as he homed in on the nearer, louder ones, he realised that they were all fish voices, and all around him.

And they sounded like this…

‘New fishy, can you hear us, new fishy…we are waiting to see you new fishy, the moon will be up soon and we will see you and you will see us.

Are you going to play with us new fishy or are we going to play with you?

Oh, we can’t wait to see you, we can’t wait to play with you.’

This went on for some time, with new voices coming and going, Max counted at least a hundred different fish all around him, their voices all gruff and mean sounding.

But he was not afraid, as he had the undying belief in being their better and would rise above the taunting and whispered threats.

They would see.

As a small amount of grey light crept into the shack, Max could make out the outline of each jar around his. Some were large and some were incredibly small, it looked like a collection of any type of used glass (and that’s exactly what it was).

Thick storm clouds obscured the moon, causing the faintest of grey illumination all around, and with the constant drumming of the rain on the tin roof, Max could not really see much at all, but that was instantly changed as lightning cracked above them and flooded the room with an ethereal light, picking out each fish in each and every jar.

They were all looking at Max.

They were all bigger than Max.

They all grinned at once.