The Puzzle

She stared anxiously at the crossword puzzle, “Bone from a fish found in tin?”.

It didn’t make much sense. She tried to focus on just parts of the clue.

“Bone from a fish.”

What kind of fish? she thought. Does it matter? Is a shark a fish? Whales aren’t - she knew that. Dolphins? Were they fish or mammals? Killer whales? Maybe a killer whale wasn’t a whale. Was that a fact? It seems like a good “common misconception”, she thought. She imagined herself at a party, talking to a tall, bearded fellow with strong hands, proclaiming “Killer whales? Not a whale. Actually a type of-“

In her imagination, her pride evaporated as she floundered, trying to imagine what type of animal a killer whale actually was. The imaginary chap smiled, turned, and disappeared off to the imaginary buffet table, which also disappeared.

Ok. That was a dead-end, she thought. I wouldn’t be carping on about fish to a practical, well-dressed man at a party, anyway. I’ll come back to it. Wait… carp? Flounder? No. Let’s move on, best foot forward, be optimistic. Got to be optimistic. No point dwelling on the past, whatever she finds out.

She paused. A fog drifted across her mind, an insubstantial sense of some important truth which burned off as she inadvertently focussed on it. She realised she wasn’t looking at the clue any more. She shook her head and looked down at the paper.

“...found in tin.”

I, she thought. ‘I’ is found in tin. I am found in tin, she corrected herself. Me. I’m in this clue. This clue is about me. Maybe I am the fish? Focus, she chided. We’re not looking at the fish part. Tin. Tin. Found in tin. Tin is a metal. What else is found in tin? Pilchards? Herrings? Spam? Beans? People.

People? she asked. Yes - another factoid. People are now buried in metal coffins. Not sure why you’d want to be. Probably won’t break down. Might provide an interesting afternoon to some future archaeologist. How does that fit with ecclesiastical teaching? Hardly ‘dust to dust’ is it, if you don’t break down. You’d just turn into preserved sludge. Some kind of human jam.

If ‘I’ am in that tin, then I am in that coffin.

The fog again. Something too close to see, too loud to hear, too rough to feel. She closed her eyes and tried to hear something else. The low hum of the air conditioning. The ticking of the wall clock. The occasional creak of the faux leather coverings of the waiting room chairs and the squeak of crocs on the vinyl composition tile.

When she opened her eyes again, the room was bright, and she realised she couldn’t tell what time it was without looking at the clock. There were no windows, as the room was buried deep within the building and the lighting was harsh.

Despite not knowing the time, she was acutely aware of how long she’d been waiting. She had arrived early, of course, but now thought it was stupidly early. There were so many other things she ought to be doing with her time, what there was of it, and here she was, forced to occupy herself with someone else’s half-finished crossword.

Someone had accidentally crossed out the length after the clue, and half the crossword was missing, torn off for some unknown reason, so she didn’t know how long the solution was. Not that it mattered.

She looked at the clue as a whole again: “Bone from a fish found in tin?”

And there was that anxiety. She knew where it was coming from, and felt bad for letting it back in. She was disappointed for being unable to avoid something she had completely anticipated. Maybe it wasn’t bad to be anxious. Maybe it was fine? Expected, even? Human?

Was it stronger to overcome the anxiety, or to embrace it? Strong. Be strong. She didn’t really want to be strong. She didn’t want to have to be strong.

Her sister had wanted to come with her, obviously. Equally obviously, she hadn’t wanted her to. Obviously to her, anyway. This was so personal, so selfish, she hadn’t wanted to share it with anyone, regardless of the outcome.

Which, she reminded herself, had already been decided. The answers, for what it was worth, were already known. She would have to make some decisions. Might. Might have to make some decisions. She didn’t want to. That’s what the anxiety was about. Being presented choices without understanding. Without understanding.

“Bone from a fish found in tin?”

Without understanding.

Fin? Is the fin a bone? Fin. Found in tin. Fin. End. The end. That fog.

There was a question mark. That meant something, she thought. Bone. Sometimes these clues weren’t that cryptic after all. Just needed to understand the language. The structure.

There was an assumption, of course, that the clue was fair. An unfair clue didn’t make you feel good if you solved it. It just left you with a feeling of resentment. Although, she thought, life wasn’t fair. If it was, she wouldn’t be here. Someone else would, though. If not her, then who? It did help, slightly, for her to think that she was ‘taking one for the team’. She imagined she’d cope better than most. Everyone said she was strong. Wilful. She didn’t feel strong.

Maybe her sister should have come. She could have helped. Supported. Understood. She’d know lots of fish.

She didn’t know how she was going to feel in 5 minutes time. She couldn’t see past the choices. That was the fog. How can you make a decision if you don’t understand the consequences?

“A fish found in tin.”

A fish out of water. Pilchards. Tin. Tun. Tuna. Was there a bone that looked like a tuning fork? Wishbone. Wishes. Wish. I wish.

It took her a second to realise that she was now softly crying. Silly, she thought as she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. You don’t know anything yet. It could still be nothing. And even if it’s something, it could be relatively nothing.

There was the click of a latch, and she looked up towards her consultant’s office. The consultant emerged from her office with a kind yet untelling smile, and beckoned her in. Placing the torn crossword puzzle absently into her bag, she mustered up a smile of her own and made her way into the office.

“Nice to see you again, thank you for coming in. We’ve got the results of the test, but first I just wanted to talk you through -” the consultant began.

“Before we start,” she interrupted the consultant. “Are you any good at crosswords?”