Written by G. Cocco	                  				   			Illustrated by L. Marin
"Ouch! Watch it! You're stepping on my eye!”
Martin held his long, thin, pincher claw up to shield his protruding eyes from his brother's legs. Four of Jimmy's legs stood on his shoulders while the other four attempted to climb up the side of the plastic box they were stuck in. But the legs kept slipping and each time they did, they kicked Martin in the head.
"Quit being such a crab baby. I'm doing the best I can!” As Jimmy yelled, air bubbles floated toward the surface. “I can get my claws out of the water but there's nothing to grab onto."
"Oh, we're going to be in big trouble when we get home," Martin whined when suddenly a disturbing thought occurred to him and he started to talk faster which is what he always did when he was nervous. 
"If we ever get home. I knew I shouldn't have listened to you. You always get me in trouble. Now, look where we are. In a box filled with stale, stinky water. We have no idea where we are and are surrounded by other pathetic souls who are also trapped. Look at that lobster in the corner. He looks like he died years ago and they're keeping his shell around for decoration. And I'm not too thrilled about the other crabs in here. I've never seen crabs with that color shell before. They certainly don't come from our neighborhood. They look like the rough type. Look at that one with the eye patch and red bandana on his head. Do you think he's a crab-pirate Jimmy? Do you think they belong to a gang? I hope they don’t start any trouble."
"Will you be quiet and stop moving!" Jimmy ordered. "You're making it impossible for me to get a grip on anything. Okay, move a little to the left, that's right, NO! I mean move to the left, not the right. Okay, steady. Don’t move. If I can get my claw into that hole, maybe I can lift myself…"

    
Jimmy reached with his thick, round, crusher claw and tried to grab onto one of the holes on the side of the tank. He hoped if he could get a good grip, he’d pull himself up then reach down and help his little brother climb out. Maybe then they could escape from this nightmare. The water was barely breathable and they hadn't eaten for days. He had to agree with Martin, although he wouldn’t admit it. He didn't like the look in the eyes of the other crabs, the way they rotated back and forth, up and down, looking him and Martin over. He'd heard about places like this but never believed the stories were true. He’d always thought they were made up stories by parent crabs to scare children. It was said the stress, lack of food and the hopelessness of escape could make a crab go mad and they’d turn on one of their own. Once the dirty deed had been done, nothing was sacred. Nothing would prevent the victim from becoming dinner for whatever crustaceans were in the tank. He regretted talking Martin into going out to play during the afternoon hours of sunlight. Sure, it was exciting and scary fun but he should've waited until the safety of nightfall like he’d promised his father.
It was his responsibility to take care of Martin for a couple of hours after school until his father came home from work and Martin hadn't followed the rules. He knew what the rules were, but he broke them. Now, look what a mess they were in. He regretted doing what he knew was wrong, but he could not go back in time and change things. All he could do now was to think of a way to get himself and his brother home safely. And to learn a lesson from this. If they made it home and he could feel his father’s claws hug him again and wrap all ten of his arms and legs tightly around him, he promised himself that he would never, ever break a rule again.
By now Jimmy had his left claw on the edge of a hole and was reaching up with his right when he began to tip backward. His two large claws and eight skinny legs floated in different directions as they frantically searched for something to grab onto. Martin, feeling his brother tip, moved closer to the wall which only made matters worse. Jimmy fell slowly backward through the water. Once he began to fall, there was nothing he could do but lay back and enjoy the slow ride down. The water would cushion his fall, and although the bump on the bottom would hurt, it wouldn't "crack" his shell like the time he'd fallen off the rocks when they'd been playing "pirate crabs" last summer. Now that had hurt.
The bright lights above shimmered through the brown, murky water. It took a while for him to reach the bottom of the tank and when he did, he hit with his right side first, then gently rolled to the left side, until finally coming to rest flat on his back.  All ten legs and claws groped wildly, desperately searching for something to grab so he could flip himself over. But there was nothing but water.
"Martin, Help me!" Jimmy screamed. He was surprised how his voice sounded like a baby crab’s but he hoped that Martin would get to him before the other crabs did.
"Jimmy, turn over!" Martin yelled as he crawled toward his brother. The lobster from the opposite side of the tank, who until now had appeared dead, had watched the entire situation and sprang to life. Its numerous small legs actually ran and its two large claws were held up high up over its head as it approached the distressed crab brother.
By roving his eyes around, Jimmy saw the drama that was about to occur.
"Get away from me, you, you spineless sack of shells! Don't you even think about touching me you old arthritic arthropod!" They weren't the best insults but considering the stress of the moment, he thought they were quite good. He'd also quickly decided that in this vulnerable position, being brave was his only hope, even if he was only pretending.
Martin's youth and nimbleness allowed him to out race the larger attacker even though he had twice the distance to travel. He reached his brother one second before the lobster.
"Get away from my brother, barnacle breath!" Martin screamed as he dove on top of the overturned crab just as the lobster's large killer claw came down and attempted to rip open his brother's belly. It landed on Martin's back with a loud cracking sound.
"Omph” was the sound Martin made as the wind was knocked out of him.
“Ha! Take that you creepy crustacean!” Jimmy laughed.
The insults, along with the thought of being robbed of a dinner, drove the famished lobster into a crazed frenzy and he dove on top of the two crab brothers. Arms, legs, claws, and antennas flew in all directions as the three of them wrestled around the bottom of the tank, stirring up the water so that soon it was a dark brown and sending the other occupants scurrying to the corners to avoid the entanglement.
Suddenly, two large, pink hands broke through the surface of the water and reached slowly toward the bottom of the tank. The three brawlers froze and stared up in silent horror. The hands picked them up and pulled them through the water toward the surface.
"Uh-oh," the lobster mumbled.
"Jimmy, do you think we're going home?" Martin asked hoping his brother knew the answer but not really expecting that he did.
"I don't think so Martin," Jimmy whispered.
Jimmy's little pinchers were gripping tightly onto his brother's legs but as the group was dragged upward, the friction of the water weakened his grip. Just as they broke through the surface, Jimmy cried out "Martin! I can't hang on anymore," and as the tips of his legs let go, Jimmy felt his brother's claws scratch his shell as he attempted to hold on. But it was too late.
Martin fell back into the cool, wet, darkness below. The water splashed as he fell and his heart sank with his body as his brother's words echoed to him.
"Tell Dad that I am sorry and that I love him..." Jimmy screamed as Martin watched in horror as his brother and the lobster, who thrashed wildly and cried loudly, were yanked by the pink hands further and further away while he slowly drifted deeper and deeper toward the bottom of the tank until he finally hit the bottom right on the very spot where he'd struggled to save his brother just moments earlier.
Martin lay still. He was stunned. When he finally moved his eyes to look around, he saw the other captive crabs huddled in the corner of the tank in a group, whispering and he did not get a good feeling about the way they were looking at him.
He was outnumbered. There were eight of them and only one of him and he had a terrible feeling that he was in big trouble.
The group walked toward him and Martin slowly inched his way backward. Oh, why hadn't he stayed in those karate classes?
They followed one crab who was the leader, who was the same size as the other crabs but led the front of the pack and crawled with the confidence of someone who is in charge. The boss crab appeared to be older, not a kid, a teen-crab maybe and there were scars and scrapes all over the reddish shell, evidence of past battles. The leader crab walked slow and with a limp, a few legs on one side appeared to be shorter than the others. Over one eye was a black patch, the kind a pirate would wear and a red and white polka dotted bandana was wrapped around the top of the shell.
The leader stopped inches away from Martin and spoke. Their voice was high pitched for such a tough looking character.
"Yeah?" Martin tried to sound tough but inside, he was scared and trembled.
 "You want to save your brother?" The one-eyed asked.
"Yes! Of course, I do! Do you know how?" Martin's eyes stuck out of his shell as he stared at the tough crab. 
"Yeah, kid. I know how. Okay, listen up." The leader turned his only eye toward the group. “We're busting out of this joint tonight. Time to go home, crabbies!"  
"Yay!" The group cheered all at once.
"Here's the plan. We take that seaweed, right?" The leader pointed with their claw to the seaweed that swayed in the corner. The group nodded.
"Okay, so we take the seaweed and we weave ourselves a little rope. Then we get on top of each other. The top guy ties the rope to one of those holes and throws it over." Everyone looked up at the holes on the top of the tank. Then the chief-crab continuing to explain the escape plan.
"We grip each other while the bottom guy climbs to the top then goes over, one at a time, Get it?" The group nodded. "Then we make our way to the kitchen and get the kid's brother."
The smallest crab in the group interrupted. "But Spike, shouldn't we forget about him and just make our way out the door? Let's get out of here, the sooner the better I say."
The group whispered a hushed gasp and all eyes turned to Spike.
Spike reached his large crusher claw and grabbed the kid by his shell, right between his eyes and lifted him off the ground.
"Who's calling the shots around here kid?" Spike growled.
The small crab struggled to spit out the words, "You are Spike".
"You want me to leave you here to be the main feature in the next crab casserole?" Spike pulled him close to the one eye that stuck out of the shell and whispered into the kid’s face.
"No," The young crab mumbled as he squirmed.
Spike threw the kid back to the ground. "Good. Then keep your shell shut. We're not leaving anyone behind."  Spike turned from the crumpled crab that lay in a heap at Martin's feet.
The crab looked at Martin, wincing while he rubbed his bruised shell and whispered, "She's tough for a girl, don't mess with her."
Martin stared at the one-eyed, pirate-looking crab.
"You're… You're a girl?!" The words escaped before Martin could think that maybe it wasn't the politest thing to say.   
Spike stared at Martin. "Yeah. Yeah, I am. Do you have a problem with that?"
"No. No, not at all, and oh, thank you, Spike. Thank you for helping my brother and me!" He could hardly believe that he and Jimmy would get to go home again!
"Don't thank me so soon kid, we got a lot of work to do before you get to go home to your mommy and daddy."
"We don't have a mother," Martin looked down as he corrected him.
"Well, whatever, we've got a lot to do before we're all safe and sound out of here. Let's just hope that no one feels like ordering crab legs for lunch or we may be too late to save your brother.”
Spike began to bark orders.
“Okay, you four, get that seaweed down. You four, weave it into a rope. There's a big ocean out there calling my name and I expect to get back into it soon!"
​The crabs went to work, cutting the seaweed and weaving it into a rope. When they'd finished, they made a crab pyramid with, the big crabs on the bottom and the smaller ones climbing up on top.

Martin was the top crab who tied the rope to the hole then tossed it over the side. Spike crawled up the crab chain first and was the first to go over the top and climb down the seaweed rope. They heard her shell crunch as she jumped from the end of the rope and fell onto the floor.
"Ouch! Crabbit!" She said as she lay still for a moment, catching her breath. 
"Wait," she ordered then crawled across the floor and dragged back a small rug to place under the rope.
"Okay, next. Hurry!" She yelled up at the gang.
The next crab climbed up the crab chain, over the top of the tank, scurried down the rope and dropped onto the rug next to Spike. One by one they made it over; Martin was last.
Spike yelled up to him, "Take the rope with you, we don't need to advertise how we escaped, plus we may need it later."
Martin peered over the edge of the tank. "But if I take the rope, then how am I supposed to get down?"
Spike yelled, "Jump! We'll catch you."
Martin looked down at the group of crabs waiting on the floor. They were so far away. It seemed like they were slowly swaying back and forth and suddenly, he felt dizzy.
"I… I can't,” he stuttered. “I’m afraid of heights!"
"Oh geez," Spike rolled her eye then she ordered. “Martin, you jump right now or I will personally climb up there and put you in a pot!"
Martin looked down. The group of crabs held their small legs in the center of a circle creating a crab-leg blanket.
"Go ahead, we won't drop you... and whatever you do, don't scream! We don't need to notify the entire restaurant staff what we're doing!" Spike shouted in a hushed voice.
Martin closed his eyes, took a deep breath, clung tightly to the rope and…
Jumped!
As he was falling through the air he peeked one eye open and watched as the tank, the wall, and everything in the room, flew past him. He whimpered, "Please catch me”.
Suddenly, he stopped. Well, he bounced a little. Thirty-two crab legs had cushioned his fall. He opened his eyes and smiled. "That was awesome."
The group dropped him to the floor. "Ouch!" Martin rubbed his shell.
 "Let's go," Spike snarled. "That way." Her claw pointed to a door. "Walk in a single line along the wall, and no talking."
The group followed her instruction and a row of crabs crawled sideways along the wall following Spike.
"Freeze!" Spike ordered and the group stopped.
A large pair of black shoes walked past them toward the tank.

“Hey! We've been robbed! Someone's stolen our crabs!" A deep voice filled the room. "Tell the waitresses to take all the crab specials off the dinner menu. Luckily we have another shipment coming in today for the weekend." The shoes then walked quickly out the door.
"Okay. Hurry, run!" Spike lead the way.
As the group of crabs entered the kitchen, the variety of smells floated in the air and reminded them how hungry they were. Small scraps of food littered the floor: little pieces of lettuce, a few grains of rice, a couple small bones. Two of the crabs ran onto the floor and began to devour whatever they could get their claws on.
Spike yelled at them, "Unless you want to become one of those scraps, I suggest you get back in line. There'll be plenty to eat once we're out of here.”
One of the crabs reluctantly left the scraps and rejoined the line. But the other crab, the smallest of the group, waited until Spike turned around, then dragged a pea with him to the end of the line.
Martin had ignored the scene with the hungry crabs and had been searching the countertops. There were so many pots, pans, plates, and cups, it was difficult to tell what was up there. Then he heard something.
"Shush!" he insisted.
Crying. Someone was crying. On the top of the counter, by the sink, from inside a large, silver pot, was a soft crying sound.
“Jimmy?" Martin whispered as loud as he could.
"Martin? Martin! Here! I’m here!" Jimmy’s voice echoed from inside the pot. "Help me Martin!" he begged.
Martin jumped up and down, pointing four legs toward the pot.
"There Spike, there he is!"

"Okay, kid. Okay, I hear him." Spike rested a claw on Martin’s shoulder then barked commands. "Okay, everyone, over to the counter, quick! Hurry! Run over and wait under the refrigerator. Stay in a group." The crabs scampered across the kitchen floor and huddled together in the safe, dusty darkness under the refrigerator.
The littlest crab, however, still struggled with the pea. He wouldn’t leave it behind and tried to run but couldn’t keep up with the group as he huffed and puffed while he tugged at the heavy pea and tried to pull it across the floor with him.
Spike turned, saw him and snapped, "Drop it, kid!"
Just then, the large black shoes walked back into the kitchen.
"Uh-oh," Spike said. "Look out behind ya kid, run for it!"
The young crab hadn’t seen the man come through the door. He crossed his claws and snapped a defiant, "No!"
"Ah-ha! Our thieves must've dropped one," the man said as he picked up the little crab. "Well, it's little, but it'll go nicely with the lobster I'm having for lunch."
The man walked to the stove, lifted the top off a large black pot and dropped the little crab into the boiling, steamy water. The cover was replaced back down with a loud clink.
The crab group watched in horror.
The shoes turned and walked out the door.
Spike looked at the group. "Let that be a lesson to the rest of you." He then slapped Martin on the back of his shell. “Okay, come on. Let's get the kid’s brother. Over to the counter, we make the pyramid-like before. One at a time, the bottom guy climbs to the top. Okay? Any questions? Good. Let's go."
Across the floor the group scurried and quickly, one by one climbed up on each other’s back. When they'd reached the top of the counter, another crab pyramid was quickly formed reaching to the top of the silver pot. Martin climbed to the top and peered over the edge. Jimmy was jumping up and down. "Martin! How...?"
Martin tossed one end of the rope down to his brother while nervously glancing toward the door.
"Never mind, just climb up the rope."
Jimmy quickly climbed up the rope, then one by one the crab chain made their way back down the counter to the floor. In a single file, they crawled sideways out the kitchen door, along the wall, back toward the tank and headed toward the door of the restaurant and toward freedom.
"Wait!" Spike snapped. They stood silently under the cash register and waited. The black shoes stomped by them next to a pair of big, shiny, green boots. Water dripped onto the floor as he passed.
"SPLASH!" The sound of crabs being dumped into the tank.
The man with the green boots was talking "There you go, buddy. That ought to do you for another week. Boy business must be good if you sold all those other crabs."
"Nah, we had a thief in here this morning, someone stole a bunch of them." The man with the black shoes answered.
Spike motioned to the group, waving her claw toward the truck. "Come on - go for it! To the truck! Hurry! Hurry!"
The two men continued talking while the group of crabs scampered toward the truck. They were just about to run up the ramp when the two men walked out the door. They laughed and slapped each other on the back before they stopped and exchanged money. 
Spike, who'd been waiting in the shadows inside the restaurant door ran in a direction away from the truck toward a pile of lobster traps. She was limping quite badly though and was halfway to safety when one of the men saw her.
"Hey! Look at that, will you?" The man with the green boots said.
"Spike! Hurry!" Martin stopped and yelled. 
Jimmy grabbed his brother by the shell and yanked him up the ramp. 
"Martin, come on!" he demanded.
Spike looked back over her shoulder with her one eye. She was running as fast as she could but it was clear she was not going to make it and there was no place to hide. She yelled to the group, "When the truck stops, wait until dark then slide through the crack by the wheel. You'll be on the docks. Make your way back to the water, then ask some of the local crabs for directions home - tell them you're ‘one of Spike's group’. They’ll take care of you.”
Then she dropped to the ground onto her back exposing her belly, something a crab never does on purpose.

"Spike...." Martin whispered. He felt like crying. Jimmy hugged his brother
"Her heart must've gone out on her," said one of the crabs.
The man with the green boots stopped in front of Spike, bent down and picked her up.
"Hey, I guess your thieves dropped one. Too bad, it's dead. No good to you now." With that, he tossed Spike into the back of the truck, pushed up the ramp and slid the overhead door of the truck down shut with a loud bang.
The crabs huddled together surrounded by silence and darkness as the truck engine started. When it jolted forward, they all slid toward the back.
Within moments their eyes adjusted to the darkness and they could see each other, the crates and boxes in the truck.
Jimmy was the first to speak.
"I want to thank all of you for risking your lives to save me."
Martin spoke up. "It was really Spike who saved all of us, Jimmy. She sacrificed herself for all of us. She was a great crab."
Everyone's eyes looked down at the floor while they sadly nodded in agreement. A couple of the younger crabs began to sniffle.
"WAS a great crab? WAS a great crab?! How about IS a great crab!!" A voice from the top of a box yelled down to them.
Hanging upside down by one leg from a crate was Spike! A big smile crossed her shell face.
"If you were truly grateful, you'd help me get down from this darn thing."
"Spike!" All the crabs yelled at once as they ran to her.
"Crab pyramid!" someone screamed and they quickly jumped on each other’s backs. Spike grunted and groaned as she climbed down.
"I'm getting too old for this business. I think I'm going to go to the Caribbean and retire."
When the truck stopped, the little group waited until it was dark, then crawled through the hole by the wheel and jumped on the wooden dock to say their "Good-byes" before making their way over the black-blue mussels which clung to the pilings and jumping into the cold water below to begin their long journeys home.

Yells of, "Geronimo! Kawabunga! and Yippee!" filled the air as one by one they jumped into the refreshing salt water.
Jimmy and Martin were the last two crabs to stand with Spike on the dock.
They shook claws as they said good-bye. Martin hugged Spike. "Thank you so much, how can we ever repay you?"
"If I never see your faces in there again," Spike pointed a claw toward the truck, "that's my repayment."
"Good-bye Spike." Jimmy and Martin said as they turned and with their arms around each other, scampered toward the end of the dock and jumped off, both screaming with delight as they flew through the air toward the water below.

"Kids!" Spike shook her head, then the tired crab limped back toward the truck, crawled behind a wheel and tucked in all ten legs to settle in for a good night's sleep. 5 a.m. would come soon and the man with the green boots would be back, start up the truck and it would all begin again.
Spike took off the red and white polka-dot bandana and stared at her reflection in the hubcap at the new scrape she had on her shell.
"I'm getting too old for this," she whispered to herself before falling asleep.

 				The End.