Again Amongst the Beach Detritus · 1 February 2025
[Note: This is a sequel to Amongst the Beach Detritus.]
The flashing blue lights and red lights are driving me crazy. But I cannot move from the beach detritus. It is safe here. And I can hear what is happening. I can hear the man in the uniform and Joey.
“My wife, Sophie, was sleeping in the sun, so I decided to clean up. I was doing my part and separating out the trash from the food garbage from the recycle. I just finished when Sophie screamed. I ran to where she was lying. Her ring finger was gone and she was bleeding everywhere.
“Look, I know it sounds crazy, but some blood-thirsty crab came and snapped my wife’s finger off to grab her wedding ring. I saw the crab go into that garbage that the tide brings in, the beach detritus. And if I didn’t know better, I would have thought that crab kept saying, ‘My precious, my precious,’ as he ran away.”
“And where is this crazy, talking crab now, sir?”
“I don’t know! I was taking care of my wife. I had to stop the bleeding and call 911. The EMTs and you got here about the same time. You watched me get her into the back of their truck or van or whatever you call that thing. They said if we can find Sophie’s finger, we might be able to get it sewed back on and restore at least some function.”
Uh oh. That means trouble. They are coming to get me. Me and my precious. I run toward the water from my spot in the detritus clutching the precious treasure in my claw. Clutching the finger which has the ring.
I hear them chasing me. And in no time at all, they catch me. The one with the uniform holds me up. I hold tight to the finger that has my precious.
“Well, I’ll be. A treasure seeking crab.”
Joey grabs at the finger. It is too soft and I have no way to keep hold of it as he pulls. I watch in horror as he takes the finger and my treasure away.
“Nooooooooo! My precious.”
The uniformed man smiles. “And a talking crab. Or what suffices for talking. Or screaming.”
He kneels down, sets me on the ground, and lets me go. I start toward where Joey has just taken the finger and the precious. The uniformed man steps in front of me.
“No sirree, Bob.” He puts his foot on top of me so that I cannot move. I reach up to claw and scratch him. “It’s time for some beach justice.” I see his face as he leans down one last time. “Sorry, crab. Tomorrow, you’ll just be part of the beach detritus.” He stands straight and I see him no more.
I feel the pressure of his foot increase. “No! My…”
[Note: No crabs or people were hurt in the writing of this piece of fiction.]
© 2025 Michael T. Miyoshi
| Share on facebook | Tweet |
|
Comment
| Amongst the Beach Detritus | Contempt for Spelling Words |