Nobody Eats Lobster

Nobody Eats Lobster
by 
Ashley Jones
(age 17)

     It all started with a dare-a terrible, disgusting dare. I closed my eyes tightly as I slid the fork into my mouth. I had no idea what I had gotten myself into.

*  *  *  *

     Living on the coasts of Maine isn't always easy. That year had been especially tough, though. Food crops weren't growing like they should, and prices of equipment continued to rise. To make up for the lost corn, I took up fishing to provide some extra food for my family. My buddy had the same problem, so we decided to team up. We had only one week to spend on the ocean. I thought it might be good for us to get away from the rows of wilting corn stalks. So off we set in my boat. It was really more like a dinghy, but it served the purpose well. With a fresh coat of paint and a new set of oars, we set sail.

     The first few days were disappointing. We each only caught a couple of mackerel to bring home for supper. We didn't know how we would possibly feed our families this winter. The next few days were equally as bad. Finally, on the last day, we knew something had to change.

     My buddy jokingly pointed to something in a shallow pool. Nobody eats lobsters! Thoughts of the creature with the big claws, flapping tail, and long feelers made me shiver. We laughed back and forth a little bit until it happened. I got dared. So, I did the only thing I could do and dared him back. Now that we were both in the same "boat", my buddy didn't look too jolly anymore. We were going to try eating a lobster. It wasn't very hard for us to each grab one, they were all over the ocean floor. I tossed mine to the shore as it tried to grab my shirt. I turned around when I heard a yelp. I couldn't help but laugh at the poor lobster clinging to Joe's hand. After they were untangled, we headed back to my home.

     It was Joe who suggested that we drop the creatures into boiling water. He thought it was more humane than chopping off their heads. After several minutes in the water, the lobsters started to turn a reddish color. That is when we decided they were done. We didn't have the least idea how to eat those foolish things. It took practically every tool in my shed to get them cracked open. Finally the steaming pink and white meat lay on a plate before us. I wasn't even hungry anymore. But when Joe picked up his fork, I reluctantly did too. I slid a small amount of the meat onto my fork. I closed my eyes tightly as I slid the fork into my mouth. I didn't gag, but continued chewing.

     Looking over at Joe, he was smiling away as he shoved another heaping forkful into his mouth. I got up and opened the ice-box. It needed something. My wife always chides me for putting butter on everything, but I put some in a pot and waited for it to melt anyway. I dumped some on the meat and offered some to Joe who eagerly accepted. Before ten minutes were up, both of our plates were clear, washed, and put away. Joe and I practically danced around the room. Back to the shores we went. Probably the horses thought we were crazy as we sang at the top of our lungs during the short wagon ride. Our families would have plenty to eat that night.

     That is the story of how my buddy and I found a new love. Every year after that, we always had enough food to feed the whole county. Just imagine, it all started with a dare.

(assignment for Lesson #15)

If you are between the ages of 12-18,

(or know someone who likes to write stories)

I would like to post your story here.

Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!