Beachside Whispers

It had been his routine for the last couple days. Once school was over and all the other kids had filed out of the school, he'd make his way down to the beach. Never in a hurry, for he knew his friend would be waiting there for him, nestled in amongst the tide pools, sitting patiently for him to arrive. It was by happenstance that they met. The boy had been walking down the beach one day, looking for shells and smooth-edged glass to add to his collection when he accidentally stepped on a shell. He lunged back in a panic, not because of pain or discomfort, but because he swore he had heard a little voice, commanding him to get off.

When he looked down - all he saw was a shell, lying there, depressed down into the sand. After a few moments, small spider-like legs emerged, cautious to the outside world, feeling around in the tiny granules of sand, looking for a solid grip. Next came the antenna. Just two - long and spindly. It only took a moment before the legs had propped the shell up and turned - revealing a tiny little face with two beady little eyes, perched upon stilts staring up at him.

Thats how they met. That's how their friendship began.

The boy wasn't exactly sure how they managed it, but he believed with all certainty that it was real. He could hear the crab that was tucked away in the shell before him and it could understand his words. Growing up, his elders had always spoken of the bond between humans and the animal kingdom. How humans needed to protect those creatures around them since Mother Nature and her children was always looking out for them. It was a cyclical relationship and he was learning about it first hand.

At first it was small talk. Where he came from? The sea. Did he have a family? Yes, a long time ago, under the control of another tide. Why was he here? It really wasn't up to him but rather wherever the current took him. He was old - he had seen most of the world throughout his years - epic naval battles, great reefs grow from the tiniest of spores, the nets dragged behind oil spewing boats decimating the balance of the oceans.

But now that he had found this spot on the beach, he wasn't sure if he wanted to leave. He was content in amongst the tide pools. His own little paradise. Self sustaining and protected. For the last week or so, the boy had come down every evening with a new book and taught him of the dry world. How those that lived on the land breathed, ate, slept, grew. The boy read him hymns and poetry - all of the best verses put to paper. He'd just sit there, curled in his shell, staring back up - listening, eyes never wavering from the boy. Absorbing it all. He had so much to learn of this place above the waves. The boy kept reading.

Then one day, without warning, his friend was gone. The boy searched the tide pools and sprawling beach. All he could find was the shell, resting on it's side - empty. The boy couldn't understand what had happened. The tide hadn't yet come in, there were no bird tracks around - it was as if he just wandered off. Maybe he had left in order to find a new, larger home - leaving his old one behind as a souvenir.

The boy had every urge to pick the shell up and add it to his collection - so he could remember his friend always, but he fought that urge. Held back against it.

Maybe someday he'd come back, wanting to relive old memories. And if he did, his home would be exactly where he left it - waiting for him.