The Shrimp and the Star

The Beginning.

There were those known as the Awoken. Great bodies of light which filled sky and shone through the darkness, whether or not they touched anything else. Although the Awoken almost always did. There is no sure way of knowing how many there are in existence, however three were counted at the beginning of time and three still remain. Guardians against the darkness in this universe, stars of the night, pullers of the moon.

The Awoken.

The Middle.

Once upon a lost moon there was a beautiful tide pool that was filled with life. It lay high up on the rocks of an empty beach and was seldom touched by the surf. There were many creatures who lived in the deep blue pool and called it home; crustaceans, hermit crabs, snails, sea urchins, and minnows to name a few, it being the only existence they knew. To them it was their world – their ocean. The largest of them all were the shrimps, swimming and dancing through the crystal water eating and playing as they pleased. Life is short for small things, especially shrimp, and as such time passes in a different manner. Minutes are hours, hours are days, and days are months accordingly. Yet how were the shrimp to know?

They were the largest creatures in their universe with no fears or worries, and they were bullies to the smaller things in the tide pool. The shrimp took what they wanted, ate what they pleased, and had no regard for the lesser creatures that inhabited their world. Worst of them all was a blue shrimp named Steve. Of all the shrimp he was the largest and he always got what he wanted no matter who it hurt.

“I am Steve and I am king of the ocean,” he would boast to snails and hermit crabs before taking what he wanted, often leaving them hungry and almost always sad. There was nothing the other creatures could do to stop him, for the shrimps were the biggest thing in the ocean, and Steve was the biggest of them all.

Because of the life of torment the inhabitants of the pool lived at the hands of the shrimp, they frequently looked to the sky, hoping for something to change. But nothing ever did. However there was a young minnow named Mason who often darted and dashed about the pool and he was friends with everyone, except of course, the shrimp. Mason had befriended an old hermit crab, who was in fact, an actual hermit. Everyone in the tidal pool claimed old Howie was crazy and out off his shell because he talked of other worlds – completely different universes filled with creatures and animals beyond belief and in numbers beyond reckoning. When asked if he himself had been there, the answer was always no.

“I have never seen the light of an outside world,” he would grumble in his raspy old voice, “but my father’s father was swept here by a wave of great strength, back when this ocean was but a small puddle.” But the other hermit crabs and creatures would only laugh and scoff, saying waves were only a story the mother fish would use to keep their babies and children close at fin. “They are real as the shell on my back,” he would retort. At this they would laugh even harder for his shell was old and full of holes. The shrimp and the minnows would often flip old Howie on his back, leaving him stranded until someone would feel enough pity to set him right. This was usually Mason who would have to use all his strength in order to set the old hermit back on his feet.

“I believe you,” he would say to Howie, as they headed back to the hole where Howie hid, away from everyone else. “Sometimes when I look at the sky I think I can see it move and change.”

“You have hope boy,” old Howie would reply, “and that is something no one around here has. But beware the sky,” he would warn with ancient eyes growing wide, “when the grayness comes even the largest creatures near the surface are not safe. I’ve seen many a high swimming shrimp and minnow disappear into the gray.”

One day the shrimp took a beautiful, nearly perfect, shell away from a young hermit crab and began to toss it back and forth in the air above the naked crab’s head. Steve was the worst of them all, chanting and tormenting the young crab saying he was the king and he always got what he wanted. The other creatures could only watch in horror as the shrimps played and bullied the young hermit crab for they were powerless to stop it. Even as the time passed and the hours and the days and the months fell into succession the shrimps kept their toy and Steve kept his prize. The young hermit crab grew up naked and afraid, as did all the other inhabitants of the deep blue nightmare, with no champion to stand in their corner.

Except for one small fish.

The reign of terror imposed by Steve and his gang members of pinkish blue only grew and grew. Their symbol of oppression becoming the perfect shell once graced upon the body of a young hermit, now placed on the head of Steve as the shrimps had crowned him King. And King Steve took his new role in stride, becoming ever worse; the color of his body turning darker and darker until it was almost pure black. The color of death. But a champion would soon come forth.

The last day (or month, or year, who could tell?) of King Steve’s reign was bright, with every crack, crevice, and hole filled with light.

A perfect day for a walk, thought old Howie as he peeped out of his hole. It had been a long time since he had stretched his claws and his shell ached to be moved. As he slowly ambled around the tall rocks and across the sand in his area of the pool (which many considered the desert and dared not venture) shadows descended upon him and the world grew dark. It was the hench-shrimp of King Steve, sent to take poor Howie and bring him to court, the king’s court, to be ridiculed and bullied in front of the entire tidal pool. Yet old Howie made no cry of protest as the shrimp seized his claws and brought him from his desert. The day of reckoning has come, he only thought, and knew that Steve’s reign of terror had ended. Because Howie was wise beyond even his old age.

“Oooold Hermit Howieeee,” the shrimp proclaimed King of the world crowed as the old hermit crab was dumped unceremoniously in the center of the tide pool. The light gleamed off of his stolen crown shell and his black body absorbed the rest. The shrimps surrounding the court laughed in a chorus of malicious song as Howie’s shell slipped partially off when he fell and they sang even louder as he struggled with ancient claws to right it back on his naked body, yet he was not able. “Long have I wanted you brought here before me!” All the creatures of tide pool were watching with a few even joining in on the chorus. However most felt pity for the old hermit crab as he lay wriggling naked on the ground, but still said nothing in protest. Better us not him, they thought and kept their mouths shut.

Even still, old Howie raised no voice of protest against the King and his shrimp as they continued their torment. Finally succumbing to the realization of weakness in his old claws he stopped moving, resting his head on the ground looking up, ready to take whatever came. Realizing that his time in the universe was coming to an end. The King berated him constantly, calling him an old fool and far worse. A shrimp soldier swooped in and stole Howie’s ancient hole filled shell, crushing it on the rocks.

The world was slowly growing dark. This time it was not the shadows of the King’s soldiers, or even the beginning of death, but something changing far above, outside of the realm of the pool’s existence. No one seemed to notice except for old Howie who was the only creature looking up to the sky hoping for relief.

“That’s enough!” cried a voice faintly familiar to Howie, whose old eyes widened slightly in the disbelief. He managed with his last remaining strength to turn his head and eyes toward the King just in time to see a small minnow dash from the kelp.

It was Mason. He dipped and dodged the shrimp soldiers narrowly avoiding their grasp, screaming into the court with amazing speed. Instead of going for Howie (as all the creatures assumed was his goal) he went for King Steve who was too shocked at this defiance to react in a quick enough fashion. Mason ripped the crown off the King’s head, which had grown dull in the fading light and began to swim away as fast as his little fins would let him with the shell grasped in his mouth.

“NOOO!” Cried the uncrowned king. “How dare you! I am king of the ocean and that is my crown!” He roared and the creatures in the tide pool stared in disbelief, some beginning to think Mason might get away. However the size difference between King Steve and little Mason was great and old Howie knew that Mason would not make it far without help. Calling upon decaying muscle and antique limbs for one last bold movement, Howie thrust himself upwards as the King of Shrimps started after Mason, colliding with Steve and sending him tumbling through the water, giving the small crown stealing fish a much needed chance. “Curse you!” screamed the King as he tumbled, yet he managed quite dexterously to smash the old hermit with his hard black tail as he regained his balance, then once more resumed his pursuit as Howie sank crippled and broken towards the bottom.

“The gray, boy!” he managed to get out as he sank. “Remember the gray!” As darkness and death overtook old Howie, he hoped in his last fleeting moment of this world that little Mason had heard him.

Mason had no idea where to go or what to do after he grabbed the shell crown off of the King’s head. He honestly did not even think he was going to make it past the shrimp soldiers, let alone get the shell. He heard the King’s cries behind him as he swam away as hard and fast as he could, and he even thought he heard the King crash into something and swear, stalling his pursuit, but Mason did not look back.

Where to go, where to go?! He thought frantically, and a reply seemed to drift to him through the water, though he was unable to tell if it was a thought, or words actually spoken. The gray – remember the gray! And without so much of a second consideration he swam upwards and saw the sky was gray.

It’s boiling, he thought to himself, the sky is boiling. Every intuition he had told him to stay away to swim back down toward the ever dark bottom, yet he swam on, higher and higher into growing grayness. Mason could feel the King closing on him and knew he needed to get farther. What is past the sky? He found himself wondering as his fins and muscles grew tired from his escape. Mason knew from some deep place inside him that gave him his thoughts, feelings, and actions he must not breach the barrier that separated his world from the sky, but that same deep unknown place told him the King must, or his own life would end today.

Mason felt the force of a swinging arm pass just beneath his tail as he hurled the crown as hard as he possibly could toward the boiling frothing sky, going as far up as he dared. Time seemed to slow as the shell arced upwards, slowly spinning round and around.

I did not throw it hard enough, he thought in overwhelming sadness, as the King hit him with his tail, swimming fast past Mason, caring only about his shiny prize. But although Mason did not throw the crown hard enough, he saw it did not matter. In the King’s greed, lust, and terrible speed, he reached the crown and could not stop. Mason saw both the King and the crown vanish past an unseen barrier and disappear without a trace, swept away by some otherworldly force.

“Waves are real,” Mason mumbled to himself as he sank slowly into darkness.

The once blue, now black shrimp named Steve, who was larger than anything else in his little ocean, tossed and turned in the froth, smashing this way and that upon unseen rocks. In the fury of the swell he lost his crown, never to be seen again by Steve or anyone else in his small pocket of the world. This cannot be real, was the anti-King’s last thought before losing all consciousness.

When Steve awoke hours, days, months, years later, his new world was as black as his shell. The shrimp king was in a tiny puddle with only enough room to lay on his back and look at the black sky which was covered by tiny dots of white. He could not move. He could not swim. He was the king of nothing.

“Help me!” He screamed, thinking he was trapped in an unknown part of his old world, for surely his was the only real existence. “Your King is stuck!” Yet all he heard in response was laughter from above. “Who dares laugh at me!?” Steve the shrimp king roared. “I am the king of the ocean and you will be punished!” But the laughter from above only grew. Steve struggled and squirmed yet could move anywhere. His frustration only grew.

“Settle down little bug,” said a voice from above, “we will help you.”

“Who is there?” Steve called furiously at the voices that dared called him little. “I am the biggest creature in the world and I will have my way!”

The laughter picked up again and a chortle of voices sounded from above – “He thinks he’s big!” laughed a different voice, “And a king!” cried another cackling.

“Quiet down, quiet down.” Said the first voice. “Let’s help the poor bug.”

“Poor bug?” Said another, “You saw how he treated his companions! He is an evil little shrimp, even if he has only been alive for a mere sliver of eternity.”

“Maybe this experience will change him,” said a third, “give the little dude some perspective.”

“Perspective?” Roared Steve from his back, “I need no perspective! I am King, all have to bow before me! Who dares tell a King he needs perspective?”

“I do,” said the first voice, and Steve saw one of the small white dots in the sky grow a little brighter. “I am Mordecai, a star of the night, and puller of the moon. One of the Awoken.”

“I’ll have your head!” Steve retorted. “Something as small as you challenging me, daring to tell a King he needs perspective!” There was no laughter at this response and three of the tiny white dots above him grew very bright, then dimmed in private discussion. “What do you speak?” cried Steve in ever growing frustration, “Help me!”

The Stars continued for seconds, minutes, hours, not responding to any of the King Shrimp’s cries. Finally the one called Mordecai grew bright once again.

“Listen and hear me well, little bug,” he thundered. “We have decided to grant you aid, though it was hard to convince my companions that we should do such!”

“Finally you tiny-”

“SILENCE.” Boomed Mordecai, star of the night, puller of the moon, one of the Awoken. The shrimp trembled with new found fear. “You know even less than your size and see little of the world. What you think is small is large and what you think is large is small. You lack even a basic comprehension of perspective and that is how we, the guardians against the darkness in this universe will aid you, for we are even greater than the world your puny tide pool resides on.” The star named Mordecai grew even brighter still, “Elijah, Augustine, begin the pull.” All at once all three stars, the guardians of the darkness in the universe, grew bright and long, and the sky shifted suddenly, the entire galaxy spinning above. “We pull early for you, little bug.” Mordecai called as the stars grew into streaks. “Do not waste what we have given to you.” In what seemed like the passing of all time, yet no time at all, another white dot appeared over Steve. This one was much bigger and brighter and the previous King of his Ocean knew it had much more force and power on his world.

The sky and the stars stopped spinning when the moon was centered directly above the shrimp stuck on his back, and he knew change was coming.

Hold on little bug, Mordecai whispered, hold on to an open mind. And in that moment Steve the shrimp was once again swept away by a tremendous wave that he still could not believe was actually real.

Steve was thrown through the universe at incredible speed, passing over and through many tide pools, for seconds, minutes, hours, finally ending up in the biggest pool of all. When the shrimp king righted himself, the world was still dark, and he believed he was home. It was a dream! He thought to himself, yet the world began to brighten and as dawn rose upon the ocean, realization dawned on Steve.

The shrimp was in a vast expanse of darkness growing blue and his world exploded around him in all directions. Steve the king almost fainted with realization – he was tiny, very tiny – and then something ate him and the world went dark once again.

He was in the belly of the beast for days, months, years, decades, and then he heard the voice of Mordecai, star of the night, puller of the moon, one of the Awoken.

Not so big now, eh little bug? Mordecai chided. Will you have this fish’s head on a platter?

Steve could not comprehend what that meant, in his world, fish were smaller than he. “Is this the end?” He asked feebly from the belly of the fish.

No, replied Mordecai, that would be too easy. And the fish shat out the shrimp king whole over a desert of turquoise and sapphire, amongst jellyfish of enormous size, displaying colors of pink, purple, and blue, flashing each with touch and swish of their tentacles.

“What are you?” Steve cries, trying to back away from the giant in front of him, afraid of being eaten again, and swims backwards into the tentacle of another, shocking the shrimp once more into darkness.

Wake up. A voice calls from everywhere and nowhere. Wake up little dude. The voice calls again.

“Mordecai?” Steve the shrimp king mumbles, eyes closed “Mordecai please, end it.”

I am Elijah, the voice responds from everywhere and nowhere. I am a star of the night, a puller of the moon, one of the three Awoken, and guardian against the darkness in this universe. You, you are nothing but a small shrimp, something that is almost nothing, minuscule almost beyond that of mere recognition. You must see, little dude, that nothing revolves around you, nothing revolves around the galaxy, and the universe only revolves around its own existence. Steve, king of the shrimps, king of absolutely nothing – it will end when you die. Be confident of that. And the end comes soon, little dude. The end comes soon.

Steve, king of the shrimps, king of absolutely nothing, laid in the sand at the bottom of the ocean and cried. Cried for seconds, minutes, hours, days, an entire lifetime. As his tears added their miniscule amount of mass to the contents of the ocean, his shell drained of its blackness through each of the little drops. Tiny black pearls in their own way disappearing into the vast expanse all around him and as the color drained, so did his size. Draining away with every tear until he was no bigger than the smallest shrimp from his tide pool. Cried until he was small and pink.

At last he stopped, and Steve, no longer king of the shrimps, yet still king of absolutely nothing, lifted himself from the ocean floor. He began to swim up. Up and up, towards the barrier he now knew to be true, hoping with a fools hope that crossing it would return him home. As he swam higher he understood with ever increasing clarity that crossing would not bring home, but it would be an end to the nightmare brought on by the three awoken.

He was right about both.

The End.

Steve never stopped as he reached the top of the sky, and once he again he burst forth from his current existence and into a new one. As he felt the lack of ocean take him and hold him in breathless captivity, Steve the shrimp, king of absolutely nothing, lost consciousness one final time and was swallowed by a pelican.

Days, months, years, decades, (tiring is it not? the constant reminder of time) Steve drifted through countless centuries and galaxies, whole universes far exceeding his own. And the stars of the night, the pullers of the moon, the guardians against the darkness of this universe, and the three Awoken, spoke. Outside of Steve the shrimp kings reality, yet still within his grasp.

What now? Augustine the third guardian asked.

Let him die in the stomach of that bird. Retorted Elijah, the second, scoffing. It is far more than a mere shrimp deserves - why have we evern given this insignificant thing our attention? We have greater matters to attend to. Even Mordecai had to admit he was right.

We have done this because it is the right thing to do, Mordecai the first replies sadly. If evil and darkness can be present in even the smallest of things, in the tiniest over-looked parts of our domain, then we have failed. We are the guardians against the darkness of this universe. Use this as an example to show how fast the darkness can spread. Today it may be a mere tide pool – insignificant against the veil of the universe – but tomorrow it might be a planet or a galaxy. Remember, Elijah the Second Awoken, and Augustine the Third, all things are small to others, even us. It is a matter of perspective after all.

With the conclusion of the great conversation between the guardians, the three Awoken, the white bird with the over-sized yellow beak landed on a rock far up on the beach, yet not far enough to remain untouched by the surf. While looking at its own reflection in a glass like pool, the bird deposited the contents of its stomach, soiling the clean water, but actually giving the pool the ability to maintain life. Such is the way of things in the world, the galaxy, the universe.

There Steve the shrimp, king of absolutely nothing except perhaps his own destiny, began his second life – telling all who would listen grand tales of other worlds, vast oceans, and creatures beyond size and counting.

Had he seen it?

“Yes,” he would reply hoping to give validation. Even still they all called him crazy, and his son crazy, and even his son’s son crazy.

It was a matter of perspective after all.

Author's Note:

Perhaps The Shrimp and the Star is too deep for a children's story. Perhaps I am just full of it and think my writing is more profound than it actually is. Nevertheless, I believe that big topics such as PERSPECTIVE can and should be taught to children from the beginning and I am sure in many ways it is. The Shrimp and the Star hit me one night as I was thinking about what has been going in the world and how someone can totally forget everything around them by falling deep into a story. This compounded with a feeling that children are growing up in a world of strife and chaos left me wanting to reach out at their level, but to also create something that could be enjoyed by everyone. Hopefully if you've made it this far you've enjoyed what you read. Thank you for your time and dedication. - NDC