 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN CRUSTUS�� CRUSTACEOUS |
|
|
|
From the start "Crusty" as we nicknamed him, was a handful.� A glass aquarium, gravel and numerous supplies left my heart and pocket book empty.� He would crawl and scrape, dig and toil about his new home.� Tenderly, Jared would hold him, cooing him as a mother holding a newborn baby.� It was during those tender times that Crusty first began to creep in to my heart. |
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
One evening while I was stretched out in soft nightgown, I lay on the sofa elevating my sore and swollen feet.� My mind was still achy from the day's stressors and then I heard and irritating sound.� Tap, tap, tap-what was that noise?� I sprang to my feet.� The sound seemed to emanate from Jared's room. |
|
|
| As I entered the room and approached the tank, I could see Crusty, peering at me with those two-orbed eyes, as if he was trying to say hello.� With cautious hand forward, I lifted him to me.� We sat on the couch for some time.� With delicate limbs he passed to and from across me, always leery of fast, moving objects.� Sometimes he would dart into his humble shell as if awaiting earthquakes or tidal waves, only to quickly emerge again as the sun does after a storm. |
|
|
| Many a sleepless night I sat up with Crusty.� As time passed he became quite tame and would often perch himself on my shoulder.�� Often folks would stop by to see his new tricks.� More often, when the buzz of the telephone pulled me out of my quiet slumber, it would be a kind person asking about Crusty. |
|
|
| It's funny how the little things in life seem to tug at your heart the most.� Recently, quite accidentally, my son left Crusty out of his cage.� Half a day had nearly passed before I had discovered him missing.� He has never been found.� Knowing my little crab, I believe he is out exploring, finding new and exciting places to hide and amuse himself.� |
|
|
| My nights are spent in silence now; I no longer hear the tapping, toiling and scraping that was once so irritating to me.� My shoulder is empty.�� As mama used to say, you cannot know you love something until it is lost.�� It is hard to believe she could have been talking about a hermit crab.�� But who can decipher the wisdom of Mama? |
|
|
 |
|
|
|
Home |
|
| Index to Stories |
|
|
|
Back to Mr.D's English Class |
|
|
|
|
|