[Critique Group 1] Reminder.

[leonard tuchyner]

Hi group 1,

Just a reminder that pieces are due Wednesday. Mine is below.

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Word count: 2013



King Crab

I’m an old man now and occasionally like to visit campground near
Virginia Beach. I do that about every three years. So, I guess I’ll
only be doing that a couple of times before circumstances will force
me to quit. I have this old dilapidated   camper. I think we’ll both
run out of gas at the same time. I suppose I could leave the camper to
one of my  kids, but they probably wouldn’t be seen dead in it.
Anyway, I was on one of those could-be final trips, sitting on the
sand of the bay. I was waiting for my collapsible crab trap to bring
me dinner. It had been out there for over 15 minutes, and it was time
to wade the 75 yards out to where a bobber marked its location. There,
in the trap, was a king crab. I was surprised indeed to see a king
crab, because they are cold water tetrapods and I’d never seen one
that far south. It was a huge creature.

He seemed to be looking at me as I held the metal cage and him at
arm’s length  above the mid-chest level. This device lay flat when
lying on the bottom, but as the rope to raise it was engaged, it
quickly morphed into a cage. He didn’t seem frightened as most
captured crabs seemed to be. His huge claw may have falsely bolstered
his confidence. It definitely raised my anxiety level.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bite you,” he said suddenly.

The fact that he spoke to me threatened my heart health. I was
stunned. A crab, who didn’t belong where he was, and  had a huge claw,
speaking to me stupefied me.

“You wouldn’t be scared by me, would you,?” he said, waving his weapon at me.

His voice was kind of crabby. I mean crabby as in a grouchy mood.
Which I believed he had every right to do, considering that he was
caught in a cage that wasn’t a cage until I showed up.

He and I were in a quandary of what to do next. If I put him back in
the  water, he might take  a bite out of my hand  as I let him go.
That could lose me a  finger, at least. Or if I let go of the cage,
which would collapse as soon as it hit bottom , he could attack all my
toes, or even more. On the other hand, if I let go of the rope and got
out of Dodge, I wouldn’t know what he was doing. I couldn’t see him. I
had 75 yards to reach the shore. He could have easily caught up with
me. It was even conceivable that he could drown me before I reached
the shore. As I said, I was nervous. If I brought him to shore, I
could drop him and run for it. I probably could have outrun a crab.

“Quite a problem we have here,” he growled. “What  are you going to do?”

Rather than talk to him, I started to make my way shoreward.  I was
not even sure I could hold him up for the distance. Somehow, I
managed, and dropped him in the collapsible trap about 5 feet above
the shoreline. Then I proceeded to run up the shore. Well, I suppose
it was a hurried walk. I hadn’t run for over 20 years. I went  about
20 yards before I turned around to catch a glimpse of what, I
presumed, was my pursuer, a grouchy crab. A very large crab.

I looked around to make sure nobody was within hearing distance and
inquired of this talking creature, “What are you doing? Why aren’t you
running back into the water or trying to catch  and bite me?”

He looked at me calmly and said in his deep, rumbling voice,  “I’m
just watching you. You’re quite interesting, or even funny, you know.”

I eased my way closer to him, watching for any signs of aggression.

“Don’t worry. I won’t bite you,” he tried to assure me.

However, I’ve never met a talking crab before and was not sure I could
trust him. Especially since he  was so big, at least for a crab.

“You can always put a rubber band around my claw so you can be sure I
won’t hurt you.”

“Aren’t you angry at me? After all, I was planning to have you for
dinner. And how do you know about the rubber band thing?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not your run-of-the-mill crab.
Besides, humans like you are an old story. It won’t do any good for
either one of us for me to let anger get the best of me. Besides, I’d
rather we talk. Why don’t you have a seat next to me on the sand, and
we’ll have a chat?”

Everything he said made sense, and he didn’t threaten me with his
claw, so I decided to take a chance and sat down gingerly next to him.
This was a brave thing for me to do, because old  codgers like me
can’t get up that quickly once they’ve gone to ground.

“There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Easy for you to say, but here I am. This hallucination I’m having of
a giant talking crab is probably just a mark of senility. Anyway, as I
say, here I am.”

We sat there in silence for quite a while, and I began to wonder
whether the hallucination was losing its effect.

“You know you are sitting next to royalty,” he declared.

“What do you mean?” I asked, my mind trying to keep up with  surprises.

“I’m the King Crab,” he said with a hint of amusement in his gravelly voice.

“Of course you are a king crab. A big one. But nevertheless, a king crab.”

“You don’t get it. I’m not just a crab. I’m the King Crab. I’m king to
all crabs. Do you understand?”

I stared at him, trying to determine how to respond to his ridiculous
claim. “Ah --- How do you know you are The King?”

“I was born that way,” he replied immediately. It was as though he was
expecting the question.

I stared at him with consternation. Then, “How do you perform the
duties of a monarch?”

“I was born with certain qualities. Would you like to see one demonstrated?”

With trepidation I said, “Yes.”

That’s when he disappeared. As I sat there doubting my sanity, he
reappeared. “Would you like me to do that again? Or would you like to
see something else?”

“Aaa ---Yes.”

He immediately grew to gigantic proportions, with his claw held out
like the sword of Damocles. I froze. He went back to his normal
very-large-for-a-crab  stature.

“I’m the real  McCoy. I can tell you’re impressed. So, why am I here
talking with you?”

That is the question I was thinking about. I just shook my head in  an
affirming manner.

“You know, I was waiting in that trap, wondering when you were going
to raise it.”

“I’m sorry. If I’d known who you were, I never would have dreamed of
trying to eat … I mean, catch you.”

“It’s okay for people to crab and fish, but not to do it without a
conscience. The thing that gets me angry is that they don’t take
responsibility for causing tremendous pain. At least you eat what you
catch, but you don’t seem to understand the issue of fear and pain.”

“But I didn’t know that crabs felt pain and fear,” I pleaded.

“What brought you to that enlightenment?” He asked.

“You.”

“What is there about me that made the difference?”

“You,  you talk.”

“So, does a crab need to talk to prove that they have feelings and emotions?”

After thinking about the question, I answered, “No. “

He replied, “I wish I could trust that this is a permanent change of
attitude. But I know better. This little episode will go down as an
aberration. It doesn’t hold weight. Your so- called humanity will leak
out in time like so much water. I have to make this a lasting
experience.”

“What do you mean?” I  asked with a feeling of trepidation. “Why are
you spending your time with me?”

He  sighed. “This may seen strange, but it is because you show promise
of really developing a full conscience  before you die.”

“I will try,” I told him.

He sighed again, “trying is not good enough.”

“What, then?”

“I believe that only experiencing this fear and pain as a crab has a
chance of changing you.”

He made a gesture with his large claw, and suddenly I felt myself
growing small. Instead of 4 appendages, I seemed to have at least 10.
I felt very strange. I tried to scream. This was not right. I didn’t
belong here. I didn’t belong in this body. I can’t explain what it
feels like to be a crab. Then I noticed I was in a box with fish heads
inside. They were not at all appealing.  Trying to find my way out was
futile. It looked like it should be easy, but it was not. I was not
alone. Two other crabs were in the box with me. I looked around
desperately for a way out. I saw King Crab outside the box gazing at
me with his stalked eyes. I wanted to ask him for help, but speech
wasn’t there for me.

“Don’t try to speak.” The words came to me without hearing. They
weren’t really words --just concepts that I realized I should not be
understanding.

“You’re a crab now. You are in a crab trap. Now you will know what
being trapped and ready to be slaughtered is like.”

The next thing I knew was that a rope on the box was pulling it up to
the surface. I was pulled onto the deck of a boat. Hands reached in. I
tried to bite them. But they held me so I couldn’t. Then I was thrown
into a larger box with ice. I was absolutely petrified. But the ice
made me slow and seemed to calm me down. Time passed, and then other
hands were reaching for me again.  I was thrown into a pot of heating
water. Becoming fully conscious, I felt the water as it started to
boil.  I tried with everything in me to climb out. The pain became
excruciating.

My senses began to fail and I almost relaxed, until I was once again
an old man sitting next to an overgrown crab. My emotions were on a
roller coaster ride. My nerves were shot, and I felt angry and
grateful. Anger for what I just went through, grateful for being out
of  it and realizing life would never be the same again. Even though
speech had been returned to me, words would not come.

“You’re tongue-tied,” he said. It’s not an uncommon reaction. When the
shock wears off, I think you’ll have plenty to say. But I doubt you’d
say anything about this experience to anyone else ,” he said.

With that, he side-walked down to the water’s edge and disappeared.

Since my encounter with King Crab, my emotions have changed. Now
gratitude is for a different reason. There is a fuller understanding
about the unnecessary pain and fear that prey animals go through. Now
I rarely eat meat.  Meat definitely includes crabs. When I do eat
animal flesh, it is with a sense of gratitude for the creature who
gave his body for my sake. I always say a prayer about that. After
all, only life gives life. So maybe King Crab was right. Perhaps I
have grown in consciousness, and I’m not dead yet. That has to be
worth an hour or two of bad experience.

I’ve never told this story, and I’m not sure who is reading this, if
anyone. But as long as I am telling it, I will also tell you that King
Crab has become a very good friend.