Being secluded from the rest of humanity was a feat that proved itself to be one of great pleasure for Monty. Monty enjoyed the subtle silence and overwhelming sounds of nothing but his own voice in his own head in his own land. The thought of regular social consumption seemed like the most evil of ideas man had created. Monty truly believed that he needed no other person but himself. He dreamed the idea of the outside coming in and only ever wanted to be in contact with himself and the small voices in his head that kept him company. The voices, he so nobly named 1, 2, and 3, were the wicked catalysts that pushed Monty to his aggression when his space was violated. Alone in a quiet cave in a desolate desert, Monty hated when the visiting tourists would get anywhere near his humble abode.
One day, a young girl and her family came to see the beautiful sites that Monty’s desert contained. The little girl was full of joy and excitement, for this was her first trip away from her own hometown.
“Mommy! Mommy!” said the little girl. “It’s a beautiful big cave. Can I go explore it, please mommy?”
The little girl’s mother nodded in agreement and the little girl too off for the big beautiful cave.
The cave was lined with wicked moss and dark wiry webs that echoed the moon’s brilliant white. It seemed empty, or so the little girl thought.
Suddenly, the little girl heard a frightening thud and loud voice screech, “Get away from my cave, you monster!”
The little girl jumped back in concern.
“Get away!” Monty called again.
With a burst of confidence the little girl called back, “I’m not afraid of you!”
The little girl worked up the might to take a few steps forward. 1. 2. 3. She paused and looked around. Nothing. No scary man. No deep voice. It must be safe. The little girl’s hand lifted to a small pendant around her neck, a gift from her late grandmother. The little girl remember her grandmother’s promise, “If you are ever in danger, hold this pendant and count to three. It will handle all the bad things for you. All you have to do is believe.”
The little girl held on tight, refusing to allow anything to scare her, believing that her grandmother and her pendant would keep her safe.
“I’m coming in!” the little girl said. And with a charge of energy the little girl sprang forward and sprinted into the cave.
Monty came around the corner in full force, ready to tear the little girl’s head off. “Get out of my cave! Get out!” he shouted.
The grasp of the little girl’s hand around her pendant became tighter and tighter by the second.
“I am not afraid of you!” she shouted. “I will never be afraid!”
“One!” she shouted.
The walls began to shake and Monty began to tremble completely unaware of what was beginning to unfold around him.
“Two!” she continued.
The cave began to crumble around him as the little girl sprinted towards the entrance. The walls fell behind her as she ran out.
“Three!” she finished.
Suddenly, the little girl appeared outside of the cave. The sun was bright and the air was warm.
Monty looked up, expecting to be dead or crushed. Instead he reached back and felt a hardened case of mud on his back and over his shoulders. Almost too heavy to carry. HIs cave had shrunk into a mere shell. Attached to his skin and bones.
“Is this what you wanted,” the little girl began. “Now you will never be able to leave your cave, you must travel the world with it on your shoulders making no friends and talking to no man, hiding from the pain of the sun. You may only come out for seconds at a time before the sun scorches your skin and burns your body.”
Monty looked up at the young girl, still clutching the pendant around her neck.
“This is not what I wanted,” he thought.
And that is how the hermit became a crab.
Author's Notes:
So this story is actually inspired by "How The Tortoise Got It's Shell". The stories themselves are not very similar in relation to the setting or characters but the idea of "creation" is carried through in both tales. I love stories like these and think that it is always fun to try and come up with ways simple things might have been created. For this story, I went with a more storybook feel. I often find that I use long paragraphs in my writing but wanted to try and find a way to utilize more dialogue so that I could stick with small, easier to read sections of text.
Bibliography:
How The Tortoise Got It's Shell
http://mythfolklore.blogspot.com/2014/05/west-africa-how-tortoise-got-its-shell.html
Hey, Lauryn!
ReplyDeleteYou've put an interesting spin on another creation myth -- I like your addition of a paranoid crab and a little girl. Together, they add quite a bit of personality to your story. I completely agree with you: I love creation myths as well. It's always satisfying to see wacky circumstances come full circle and provide an explanation for a modern phenomenon.
Hey Lauryn! I really like way you spun the classic myth of "How the Tortoise Got Its Shell" and made it into a story about a crab and a child. I really like reading about creation myths as well and I think they're so interesting to hear about! I really like how you changed up a classic piece of mythology and gave it new life, while still being respectful and true to the heart of the story! Great job!
ReplyDeleteHi Lauryn,
ReplyDeleteWhat a lively story you've written! I enjoyed the action and dialogue from the story. The connection at the end of the hermit becoming a crab gave meaning to the name hermit crab, and I thought this was a pretty clever way to close the story. I wonder what the little girl's parents were thinking when they saw her running out of a cave that had just been shaking? What if she tells them the story later, and they just think she made it up? Great job on this creation story!
Hi Lauryn,
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed your recreation of the original story! It's funny I couldn't stop thinking about the scene in Moana, when she goes into the hermit crab's cave. I think that would have been an interesting aspect to add in. You did a really good job with getting the reader involved. By the end of the story, I felt sorry for this hermit crab.