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My hometown of Joon was in crumble. An extremist rebel group had taken over the local government, and practically burned the town to ashes. My family and our fellow neighbors were trying to find refuge in another town, but we had no resources, no food, no home, nothing. We were on the verge of dying in our very own town we called home.
As we were all preparing to find shelter for the night, a random man with a large rifle appeared from the shadows. Dad was alarmed and immediately put his body in between us and the stranger. The man immediately responded to dad's language. "Don't be afraid, sir. I am here to help," he said. "Help? How so?" dad questioned. "Yes," the man continued, "My name is James. I am from Wenon. We heard of the turmoil back home, so the capital's save group sent out reinforcements to protect and guide those in need." "Oh, thank the lord! God has finally answered our prayers," my dad exclaimed.
"There is no time to celebrate. We must hurry to the refugee camp. Wenon has a camp on the border closest to Joon. It is not entirely too far, but we still must hurry and leave Joon before the rebels catch us," the man stressed. Dad seemed completely on board, ready to guide the rest of us into the hands of a stranger. Mom, however, was less enthusiastic about the random aid. "Honey, I am not sure if we can completely trust this man. Have you not heard of those stories of those who seek refuge with those that say they can help, but they never are to be seen again? I am afraid of such a result," mother whispered. This made dad hesitant as well. An older neighbor of our's sensed the fear in my parents, so he bravely came up to them and made an offer, "I will go with him. If I am never to be seen again, then that is just fine. I have lived my life, so I will go to see if what he speaks is the truth." Dad agreed to this proposition and guided the elder to James, and off they went, while we stayed put.
Two days later James and our neighbor returned, and with such joy on his face, he delightedly said, "Oh, it's all true! There are so many people there to help us, and there are so many programs for us to start a new lives!" With much happiness, dad thanked James, and then James said, "Now I will take you all there individually. This way, there is less chance of getting caught by the rebels."
At that moment, our neighbor went with James again, but this time James took a different route. The old man was worried, but James reassured him that this was just a detour to remain out of sight from the rebels. However, the elder was not greeted with the bright future of opportunity. James brought him to the bullets of the guns of the extremist rebels. All this time, James had a deal with the extremists. There was a cash reward for every fleeing Joonian that was brought to the rebels, so that the Joonians could be brought to "justice" for not believing in the rebellion. After this murder, James kept returning back to Joon, guiding each person back to the camp to be killed. One by one, they went with him, until there was only me.
I am even more hesitant than mom, and refused to go with James, but I was the last one left. James came back for me, but I was still skeptical. James kept trying to convince me, but the only thing I could find myself to say was, "Fine. I will go with you, but only if you let me protect myself. I cannot bear to trust a stranger with my life if I do not have a weapon myself." James was eager to agree to the idea because the excitement of money clouded his judgement. James gave me the rifle, and we went our way. However, I noticed James was not taking me toward the direction of Wenon, and the further we drifted from the border, and could not help but ask, "Where are you taking me? We have entirely missed the border of Wenon." James stopped in his tracks, and slowly turned to me, with a creepy smile, he quietly said, "That is because we are not going to Wenon, my dear. I am taking you to meet the fate of the rest of your family. The fate of death from the hands of the rebels!"
As soon as I realized that James had practically killed my family, I raised the rifle right to James' forehead, and with the most steady voice, I calmly said, "Oh, good sir, you will take me to the refugee camp, or the last thing you will see is the blood from you brains flowing into your eyes." James instantly knew he made a biggest mistake of his life. "Oh, please spare my life! I will take you to the camp! Please do not shoot me," he begged.
Finally, he began to lead me to the site of the refugee camp, but before we reached the border, I raised my arms, cocked the rifle, and pulled the trigger. I walked the rest of the way by myself. As I arrived, volunteers from the save group ran up to help me, but all I could think about was how I was going have to start this new life by myself.
Author's Note
I think the most memorable aspect from the original story, "The Cunning Crane and the Crab", was the theme of lie and betrayal. James is supposed to be the crane, the family and neighbors are the fish, and the narrator is the crab. Overall, the part of James taking each person one-by-one, the mom's hesitation, and the way James revealed himself were directly related to the original story. Also, I know I mentioned how unfair it was that a disabled, old fish was picked as the guinea pig, so I kind of changed it to a more explicitly voluntary action, rather than an ambiguous one. However, the ending is completely different. The crab had no ties with the fishes and did not care about them, so when he was finally taken to the lake, there was no sadness of the death of the fishes, only the happiness of him getting what he wanted. However, the narrator has personal and intimate ties with everyone that died, so even though the narrator has personal vengeance, the narrator is still filled with the sorrow of the death of loved ones.
Bibliography
- The Cunning Crane and the Crab by W.H.D. Rouse (https://sites.google.com/view/jatakas/crane-and-crab)
