Mr. Henry hailed from a small pet store in the Noe Valley area of San Francisco, not very far from where Natalie lived. It was rarely crowded, and today the only occupant amongst the maze of animal cages was a young man at the far end of the room.
A plethora of animal sounds filled the air, from bird chirps to dog barks. Many smells were present too, unfortunately for the most sensitive of the group that had just entered the shop.
Natalie had suggested the three of them — her, Monk, and Sharona — visit the store to find out more about the fish. While the two women were perfectly comfortable in this environment, Monk looked to be regretting his choices already.
"Ugh-ohh," he groaned, reaching up to cover his mouth and nose with his sleeve as they walked through the store. "You smell that? What is that?"
"It's a pet store," Natalie told him. She held Mr. Henry in a plastic bag and was leading Monk and Sharona over to where the young worker stood. "Haven't you ever been in a pet store?"
"No," Monk said truthfully. "What a good run I had."
"What have you been doing?"
"He's been avoiding pet stores," Sharona quipped.
"Ha, ha. How often do you come here?" Monk gagged.
"I mean, not that often. Just when I need to pick stuff up for Mr. Henry."
"How can you stand it?"
"Adrian, quiet," Sharona said. "It's just a pet store."
"But the smell," Monk complained. "The smell, and the noise —"
"Okay, it's gonna be fine," Natalie told him. "Just breathe though your mouth."
"Yeah, and grow up," Sharona suggested.
"Cool it," Natalie muttered to her. They'd reached the pet store employee, and her tone changed abruptly. "Hey, Carl."
"Hello, Mrs. Teeger!" Carl said cheerfully. "What can I do you for?"
"We wanna ask you a few questions about this fish," Sharona ventured. "Is there anything, like, special about him?"
"Anything unusual I should know?" Natalie added.
"Like what, is he sick? Little guy looks okay to me." Carl leaned over to smile at the fish in the bag.
For a change, Monk was distracted from his work. No, that wasn't true — Monk was always distracted by something. But this time it wasn't a problem, rather something interesting. While Sharona and Natalie talked about the case, he wandered over the a bird cage that had caught his eye. It housed a lone yellow parrot that perched on a branch, quietly eating.
"No, no, I mean, is he valuable?" Natalie continued.
"He's just a marble fish, Mrs. Teeger," Carl shrugged. "We sell 'em for 99 cents. Got about a thousand of them. If you'd like your money back —"
Sharona glanced around to find Monk. He remained at the birdcage, watching the parrot intensely and sorrowfully. She opened her mouth as if to say something, paused, and then closed it, turning back to Carl.
"We're not returning him," she cut in. "Is there any reason why someone might want this particular fish?"
"I mean, really, really want him?" Natalie added.
"Uh, well, he's sorta pretty," Carl suggested, grinning. The two rolled their eyes. "And he's got a thin, black stripe on his dorsal fin..."
"Mr. Monk, what do you think?" Natalie said loudly, drowning out Carl. Monk, still fixated on the bird, didn't respond.
"Adrian?" Sharona called.
Her voice broke Monk out of his reverie, but he kept his eyes on the bird. "Look at this," he said, fascinated. "He's eating out of two trays at one time. He's keeping them even... they're perfectly even."
And this was, in fact, what the little bird was doing. He rested in his cage, ducking his beak into each red bowl, making sure to take one grain of food at a time so that the amount in each container stayed even.
"Yeah, that's Sergeant Pepper!" Carl told them, walking over to the bird cage. "He's a sun conure. They're pretty cool. Hey, you want him? You can have him for free. We can't get rid of him. Customers keep bringing him back."
"How come?" Sharona asked. Sergeant Pepper ruffled his colored feathers and flew down to the bottom of the enclosure, where he began picking at the wood chips.
"Mm, well, he's depressing, he doesn't talk. He just mopes around, cleaning himself and straightening up his cage." Carl paused and gave the bird a smile. "His cage always has to be perfect."
Something clicked for Sharona, and her expression softened as she looked at Monk.
"What's wrong with him?" Natalie asked, still looking at the bird.
"His wife died," Monk said. Sharona gripped his elbow as a gesture of consolation.
"Yeah, that's right." Carl looked surprised. "We had a female in there with him. She died about a year ago. He hasn't been the same since."
"Why don't you put another female in there?" Natalie suggested.
"It won't work. He'll never feel the same about anything else," Monk answered for Carl.
"Yeah, that's right," Carl said again. "We tried it, but... I'm afraid Sergeant Pepper's just gonna grow old and die alone in his little cage."
He said the last part still smiling, as if it were poetic, then turned and walked away cheerful as ever.
Natalie's gaze went from the bird, to Monk's eyes, then down to the ever-present ring on his left hand. "What was her name?" she asked softly.
"Trudy."
//
Later that week, the group was gathered at the SFPD in the hopes of getting Captain Stottlemeyer to take on the case. It had been a day since Monk and Sharona had visited Natalie's apartment for the second time, and Monk was set on his fish theory.
It was as plausible if not more than many of his other speculations, meaning of course that nobody in their right mind would believe it. Except, as always, Sharona, and now Natalie.
And Randy, who believed anything.
The captain, on the other hand, would not be so easily convinced.
They all stood around Randy's desk, gazing at the small plastic bag that held what was amazingly Natalie's most valuable possession. Sharona leaned against the side of the desk near Randy while Natalie stood behind his chair. Monk and Stottlemeyer were across from them.
"It's a goldfish," Randy said.
"Well, technically," Monk corrected him, "it's a crimson marble fish."
"Is it extinct?" Randy wondered aloud, squinting at the fish.
"If it was extinct, Randy, we wouldn't be looking at it," Sharona said, her words accompanied by a swift, amused exhale through her nose.
Randy looked up to her, then to the table to which he gave a quiet, wry laugh. Sharona smirked, satisfied.
Stottlemeyer, who had learned to tune out their banter ages ago, turned to Natalie. "Is it rare? Valuable?"
"Costs about a dollar, any pet store has a hundred of 'em," she shrugged, relaying the information Carl had given them.
The captain gave this some thought, wringing his hands. "I don't know," he finally said.
"He brought a fishing net into the house!" exclaimed Monk, gesturing wildly to prove his point.
"And he turned on the light over the aquarium," Natalie chimed in.
"Well, does anybody have any ideas?"
"Maybe it swallowed something," Randy spoke up. "Like a diamond."
He continued to stare at the fish, oblivious as always to the sighs of disbelief from everyone around him just them. If there was anything more of a stretch that Monk's theories, it was whatever Randy managed to come up with. Excellent cop, terrible theorist.
"Does anybody besides Randy have any ideas?" Stottlemeyer repeated, clarifying.
Natalie snatched the fish from Randy, leaving him looking a little confused.
"I don't get it," she said, mostly talking to herself or perhaps the fish. "Why would someone want to steal this fish?"
"I mean, it's just a fish," Sharona told her disdainfully. "Nothing special about it."
"Hey, hey, hey." Natalie turned around to face her. "This fish is really special to my daughter. It was a gift from my husband."
"Yeah, and you think that matters to some random guy?"
"Okay, hold on —"
It was if a switch had flipped. Sharona and Natalie's voices rose quickly, and the heated argument that broke out filled the room. Irate gestures and loud retorts were thrown and dodged. It was impossible to make out anything they were saying.
The two had apparently forgotten Randy, who was still sitting between them and watching the argument unfold, looking both mildly interested and rather frightened. Monk had resorted to covering his ears and was using Stottlemeyer as a human shield.
The squabbling continued for a good minute — a few phrases such as "worthless little fish" and "completely unfair" were audible within the shouting — and after a bit it appeared Randy had become involved. He had stood up and was now facing Natalie, supposedly making an attempt to defend Sharona, though it was hard to tell.
It took several tries to calm them down, all of which were Stottlemeyer yelling "Hey!" repeatedly while Monk pretended to help by waving his arms around.
He finally got their attention with a particularly loud "Hey!" which left Randy looking embarrassed, Sharona disheveled, and Natalie furious.
"Monk, c'mere," Stottlemeyer said abruptly, and led Monk into his office by the elbow. The door slammed behind them. "So."
"Yeah," Monk agreed.
"You're going to keep investigating this case, and you're going to have Natalie and Sharona with you."
Monk made a vague gesture to confirm this and then laced his fingers together, fidgeting.
"Big mistake," Stottlemeyer continued.
"Oh, I know."
"Monk, you have..." He trailed off, running his hand down his necktie. There wasn't an easy way to phrase what he wanted to say. "You're barely — you're — you're very —"
Monk nodded slowly as the captain continued, under the impression he should be looking forward to what he had to say.
"You're a fragile person," Stottlemeyer finished.
"Thank you," Monk said immediately.
Behind them, another disagreement had broken out between Sharona, Randy, and Natalie — at least, that was what it looked like through the half-closed blinds on the office windows. Nothing was audible from where the two men stood, but Sharona was pacing in frustration and both Natalie and Randy looked very irritated.
"These women are gonna drive you crazy."
Sharona had gotten annoyed with Randy for standing up for her when clearly she was doing a fine job arguing with Natalie all by herself. Natalie had calmed down a bit and was trying to separate them (Sharona was on tiptoe by now; Randy was slightly taller than her).
"You're gonna have a breakdown."
"Oh, I know!" Monk said again.
Sharona threw her hands up in exasperation, walking out of view.
"Now I love Sharona" — Natalie had followed her away from Randy's desk, either to apologize or start another argument — "and Natalie's clearly a wonderful person. But these women are so different, Monk. They're gonna tear you apart like a piece of saltwater taffy."
"I know, I've —"
But he was cut off by the sound of the office door opening. Randy had stepped into the room, a file full of papers in one hand. "Captain! We ID'd the intruder that Miss Teeger, uh, killed."
He hesitated as he said it, glancing back to Natalie. She and Sharona had followed him into the captain's office. Both looked somewhat calmer. Neither would make eye contact with the other.
"Brian Lemmon. Minor league creep." Randy handed the file over.
Stottlemeyer glanced down at the papers and addressed Natalie without looking up. "Does that ring a bell?"
"Nah, never heard of him."
"One, two, three... five falls," he read, scanning the file as he leaned against his desk. "Couple of b&e's and receiving stolen property."
"Was there an address book, or... anything in his wallet?" Monk prompted.
"No wallet, no keys," Stottlemeyer answered.
At the question, Randy had hurried back to his desk. He returned carrying a plastic evidence bag. "This is all they found. It was in his back pocket."
Monk took the bag. It contained only a small slip of paper. "'2:30 Sea of Tranquility,'" he read off the note. Natalie looked up at the name. "What is that? A club?"
"No, I don't think so," Stottlemeyer told Monk, taking the note from him. "Who'd want to go to a club called the Sea of Tranquility?" He paused, chewing a toothpick. "Besides you."
"Well, it could be some sort of spa," Sharona offered.
"Yeah, or... holistic retreat," Randy added, jogging back to his desk again to follow up on his and Sharona's spa theory.
"No, it's not a spa!" Natalie cut in. She stood up from where she'd been leaning against the wall, still clutching the bag with Mr. Henry. The four of them turned to look at her, Randy frozen halfway to his desk. "It's an exhibit at the science museum. My kid went there last week on a field trip."
"Science museum, huh?" mused Stottlemeyer. "Okay, mystery solved. Monk, you take Natalie and check out the science museum. See if she recognizes anyone or anything."
"I need Sharona there," Monk worried.
"Okay, bring her too. Just —" (he lowered his voice) "—be careful."
Monk understood this to mean don't let Sharona and Natalie tear each other apart, again. "Can I call you if it gets weird?" Monk mouthed to Stottlemeyer pleadingly.
"Absolutely not."
On their way to the museum, Monk reasoned that the captain was now 87% on board with their fish theory. This was good, he assured them, though Natalie was confused at the specificity.
"How do you know it's 87%?" she asked.
"Well, I'm 96% sure," Monk said.
Sharona could tell from his expression that the missing four percent was haunting him.
When they reached the museum, Natalie led them to a stairwell. "Sea of Tranquility," she read off a nearby placard. "Fifth floor. Where are you going?"
She was looking at Sharona, who was walking in the opposite direction.
"Elevator's this way," Sharona told her.
"I thought Mr. Monk liked to take the stairs," Natalie pointed out. "We took the stairs at the police station."
This was true. Sharona hadn't had much of a chance to make Monk use the elevator at the police station, however — Natalie had instinctively led Monk to the one he felt more comfortable with.
"Yeah, I know, but he has to take the elevator sometimes. It's good for him." She would've made Monk take the elevator at the police station if she'd had the chance. Tough love was the approach she'd always used, and there was no way she was changing her ways to make Natalie happy. If Monk was never pushed outside his comfort zone, he would never move past his phobias, right? Right.
"Thanks, I appreciate it," said Natalie, who did not appreciate Sharona's stance at all, "but I don't want to make him uncomfortable." She took Monk by the arm and led him in the direction of the staircase.
"But sometimes he has to be uncomfortable, otherwise he'll never learn," argued Sharona. She grabbed Monk's other elbow and pulled him towards the elevator.
Monk simply stood, grimacing, waiting for it all to be over. Stottlemeyer was right: saltwater taffy. It was no matter, as neither of the two women were actually paying Monk any attention.
"I'm not his psychiatrist, I'm just trying to help him," Natalie snapped.
"Then why don't you try helping him instead of pandering to him? I'm helping him." Clenching her teeth, Sharona continued. "How about this? Fifth floor. So we'll take the elevator up to three, and walk up two flights." She punctuated her sentence with a violent slam to the elevator button.
"That sounds fair," Monk put in.
"Or we take the elevator up to two and walk up three flights," Natalie retaliated.
"Can't argue with that!" Monk agreed, a falsely cheery smile plastered on his face.
Sharona ignored him. "You're treating him like a child."
"He's not a child."
"I did not say he was a child, I said you were treating him like a child."
Tired of watching them argue over him as if he wasn't there, Monk walked slowly to the nearest wall and stood with his head against it for several seconds.
"Oh, I'm being supportive," Natalie said dismissively.
"No, you're not being supportive! You're enabling him!" She jammed at the elevator buttons a couple more times for good measure.
"Okay, here's what we're gonna do," Monk interrupted, walking back towards them. "We're gonna take the elevator up to the eighth floor, and walk down three. That way everybody's miserable."
The elevator bell dinged. He walked into it, not bothering to turn around to face the doors. Natalie threw Sharona a sharp look as she followed him in, both of them refusing to look at each other as the doors slid shut.
The lift let off after a very long, awkward minute of silence. When they finally stepped off onto the fifth floor, everyone looked too tired to be annoyed anymore. For a little while they walked, no one daring to talk, until they turned a corner to face the Sea of Tranquility exhibit.
"Mitch wanted to be an astronaut," Natalie said, breaking the silence. She was looking at a banner marking the entrance to the exhibit. It featured a picture of a man in a spacesuit. "That was his dream. Three days after his plane went down, he got a registered letter from NASA. He'd been accepted into their training program."
She was talking mostly to Monk, but Sharona's annoyed expression held the smallest, most reluctant hint of sympathy. It was funny: both her and Monk knew exactly what it felt like to be Natalie sometimes. She had been a single parent for years, doing her best to take care of Benjy with the limited paybacks she got from Monk. He had lost Trudy, just as unexpectedly as she had lost Mitch. They had both loved somebody only to wake up one day and find they were gone.
"It hurts, I know," Monk said.
"Life goes on," Natalie reasoned, leading them into the exhibit. Monk stayed quiet. She looked back to him. "Doesn't it?"
A very loud voice from beside them shouted "Hello!" just then. It had come from a man wearing white face paint and a rather disturbing costume to match. "I'm a white corpuscle! I'm an important part of your body's defense system! I travel through your bloodstream and I fight bacteria and diseases! Would you like to know more about me?"
The three paused, staring blankly at the white corpuscle which was eagerly awaiting their response. None of them had expecting their investigation to be interrupted by whatever this was, nor were they very pleased by it.
"No, I'd like to know less about you."
This was from a very fed up Sharona, who completely ignored the disappointed reaction she earned from the white corpuscle as she pushed past him. Natalie hid her grin.
They found themselves at an small display with a sign reading 'Neanderthals and Modern Humans.' Below these words were a short paragraph about a skeleton discovered in 1856 by a group of quarry workers — Monk had no doubt read and processed this information in seconds. Beside the sign was the skeleton in question: a very old, decomposed pile of bones in a glass case.
Monk, unable to resist, was studying the skeleton as if it held the key to every answer he sought. Natalie looked it over with interest. Was this important to her case? With Monk, you could never tell.
"They weren't big on dental hygiene, were they?" Natalie chuckled, looking at the skeleton's yellowed, warped teeth. Sharona let out the same short exhale she'd given Randy earlier, a reluctant laugh. Monk ignored the both of them.
"Sharona," he said suddenly.
"Hm?"
"This man didn't freeze to death. He was murdered." This earned a eye roll from Sharona and a confused look from Natalie. "There's a puncture wound in the side of his skull."
"What on earth does this have to do with my investigation? It was over 30,000 years ago!" Natalie said in disbelief.
"He finds murder everywhere," Sharona told her with a sigh.
"Murder is everywhere," Monk said. "And there's no statute of limitations on it, either... I think I know what happened..."
He bent over backwards, hand on his shoulder, 'thinking face' on. Natalie looked concerned.
"Detective Monk, why don't we solve my case first?" she prompted. "Then we'll come back here later and figure out who killed Og, okay?"
She left for the Sea of Tranquility exhibit. Monk and Sharona lingered by the case for another second as Monk squinted at the skeleton, before Sharona grabbed his arm and led him toward Natalie with an exasperated "Oh, come on."
"Welcome to the Sea of Tranquility, where on July 20th, 1969, commander Neil Armstrong took one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind..."
The exhibit was crowded with people and large models of spaceships and satellites. A line of people slowly made their way through the room, stopping occasionally to look at signs and display cases. The crowd was following a tour guide who led them past Monk, Natalie, and Sharona.
The three had stopped again — Natalie and Sharona to look around for her meter reader; Monk so he could squint at another glass. He realized his breath had fogged the glass and desperately tried to wipe it off with the cuff of his sleeve.
"And those of us that are old enough to have seen it will never forget it," continued the tour guide. "Now, over here is the highlight of our exhibit. This is an actual moon rock brought back by the crew of Apollo 11. There are only 234 moon rocks that were brought back to planet Earth. And we've cut a little hole here in the side of the exhibit so that you can reach in with your fingers and touch it if you want to."
He paused as the first of the group turned to feel the moon rock, looking at it in awe.
"That's the guy," Natalie said abruptly. She tapped Monk on the shoulder.
"Who, the tour guide?"
"He's the meter reader. That's the guy that was in my house."