There’s Crabs Everywhere and I’m Out Of Lightbulbs
by Rob Lichter, inspired by a title by Ed Garrison III



I love Christmas. Yeah, I know. You’re thinking, “Who doesn’t?” You don’t get it. I freakin’ LOVE Christmas. You get me? I grew up in New Jersey, near the shore. Betcha couldn’t tell just from listenin’ to me talk, could ya? Naw, I’m just kiddin, I know what I sound like, it’s cool. Some guys are like, “Hello, glad to meet you.” Me? I’m like “Hey,” you know what I’m sayin’? Jeez, what WAS I sayin’?
Oh yeah, Christmas. So my parents didn’t have a lot of money when I was growing up, but one year I got the whole freakin’ Millennium Flacon playset for Christmas. That thing was YOOGE! I had the soundstrack to that movie. You know, the disco version? And I would play that thing over and over until I knew where all the skips and scratches were, and I would play those goddamn Star Wars toys up and down that thing. Every time I looked at it, it made me think of Christmas. Even when I got older and all that shit ended up in the basement, I’d see it sometimes and I’d be like, “Hey, how long til Christmas, anyways?” Ok, you get the picture.
When I finished high school, my old man was like, “Hey, Scoots, you know we ain’t got no money to send you to no fancy college, right?” I felt bad, so I was like, “I ain’t got no brains, anyway, Pop. Who’d take a guy like me? I’m a workin’ man…just like you.” That last part wasn’t true but I think it made him happy to hear me say that.
So I got a job loading crates on the boats and sometimes I took em off the boats, too. It wasn’t so bad. I liked the fellas I was working with and I had enough money for a little place not too far from my parents. My Ma would make me these big frozen lasagnas and shit and leave em in my freezer for me so I could heat it up when I got home. That was nice.
The first time I had to work on Christmas I was kinda bummed. But since I didn’t have no family to spend it with, I figured, hey, I’ll get the overtime and buy myself something nice, you know? So I’m out there in the freezing cold, loading, unloading, whatever. We had this boombox we used to listen to music with. When the foreman wasn’t around we used to put Howard on, but he didn’t like that so usually it was just the classic rock station or whatever. But around Christmas, some of the light, pop, faggy channels change over to ALL Christmas music ALL the time! One of the other guys liked that, I was like whatever. But you know, you listen to that shit long enough and deep down inside, even though you didn’t know it in your head, your body loves those songs. The only one nobody likes is that grandma one. I don’t even want to talk about that one. I caught myself singing along once and I realized I’d been singing along to like every song for the last, I dunno, hour? I kinda made peace with myself that, yeah, I like Christmas music. Call me half a fairy and I’ll punch your goddamn teeth out.

But my point is, one time I heard a song that I ain’t never heard before. It was these women singing and it went like this:
How'd ya like to spend Christmas
On Christmas Island?
How'd ya like to spend the holiday
Away across the sea?
How'd ya like to spend Christmas
On Christmas Island?
How'd ya like to hang a stocking
On a great big coconut tree?

Holy shit, that one hit me hard. I stopped working and leaned on a crate for a whole coupla minutes while these ladies was singing. “Christmas Island.” That’s what it was called. Can you imagine anything so beautiful? I eventually found out it was by the Andrews Sisters. That made me laugh cause I went to school with this guy called Andrew and he had these stacked sisters and all of us would talk about them in not-so-gentlemanly tones, you know what I mean? Nah, it was all just talk, but anyway it made me think of that, that’s all I’m sayin’,
Anyways, I went to the library on my next day off. I know, right? I didn’t have a card, but they let me look at the books inside, I just couldn’t take none of them out. That was fine with me. I looked it up and not for nothing, but there WAS a Christmas Island. No shit. It’s near Australia, or part of Australia, or something like that, I wasn’t too sure. But anyway, it’s real, that’s what I took from the library. I didn’t have no card and I didn’t take out no books, but I took one thing: I knew I was getting out of Jersey and I was going to live on Christmas Island.
Here was my plan: I was gonna work all the overtime I could. Hey, I didn’t have no regular girlfriend or nothing, so that was cool. Kept me busy, you know? I saved as much as I could for a whole year. I actually bought myself the record of the Andrews Sisters singing that song and I played it for myself when I was feeling down. Turns out a buncha other people did that song, too, but they weren’t no good. Not like the Sisters, anyway.
The next Christmas, I worked the overtime again went home to bed. Only I couldn’t sleep. I put that song on over and over again, finished a few beers and fell asleep around dawn. I spent Boxing Day putting all my shit in boxes. Ain’t that funny? I left all the stuff I couldn’t take, like my record player and the table and just took what I could fit into a bunch of suitcases. I didn’t even tell anyone I was leaving. I told the guy at work to send my last check to my parents but that was it. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about anybody at home; it was just that this was bigger than all of that. I don’t know, I can’t really explain it.
The next day, the 27th, I went to the bank and closed out my account in cash. I had a few thousand dollars in my pocket and my favorite clothes, some pictures and that Andrews Sisters record. I figured I could probably get a new record of it on Christmas Island, but I wasn’t taking a chance. Shoulda got it on cassette, though, cause when I opened up my suitcase after I landed, I saw the record was all busted up. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
I went to LaGuardia, abandoned the car and waited for one of those wait-and-see-if-have-room-at-the-last-minute flights. I could wait. I had my stuff, plenty of cash, and nowhere else I needed to be. This was before cell phones and emails and shit, so I was off the grid. Only they didn’t call it that then. They just called it, “Hey, where is that guy? I ain’t seen im in a long time.”
I ended up staying the night there, but tell you the truth? I kinda liked it. It was exciting, you know? Trying to wait up and hope you don’t miss your chance. Heh, now that I think about it…it was kinda like Christmas. Whew. That’s pretty wild. But even though I slept, I didn’t miss Santa, cause there was no flights until the morning, anyway.
At 8:15 they called out that they had some room on the flight, so I grabbed my stuff, peeled off some bills and got on. I hadn’t showered in a day and I slept in my clothes, so I felt bad for the guy I was sitting next to, but he didn’t say nothing. I don’t know if he was being polite or he was just scared of me. I’m kind of a big guy. So I’m going along in the airplane, everything’s cool. We watched a movie, I got something to eat, I napped. I woke up and looked at my watch. I asked the stewardess how long till we land. She laughed like I was joking, but I was like, “No, seriously. How much longer?” She goes to me, she goes, “In a bout 12 hours sir.” Just like that. I was like, “Whoa. Twelve hours? From NOW?” She goes, “Yeah, it takes like eighteen hours to get to Australia.”
Hoe-Lee SHIT! I mean, like I said, I ain’t got nowhere better to be, but I bet I stink not a little bit and man, I was bored 5 hours in and I got another 12. Christ!
Like anything you don’t think you can get through, I got through it. We landed at like 3 in the afternoon THE NEXT DAY. I lost a whole goddamn day on that plane. Time zones, they told me. Whatever.
I got my stuff from customs and converted all my money to Australia dollars. I talked to some people who directed me to Christmas Island. I had to take another plane ride to get to the island. So I waited another hour and got on a little puddle jumper. That second plane ride was like Christmas again. I could see the island coming closer and I just had to get to it and open it up to see what was inside her.
We landed and I took my stuff and stepped out of the airport, looking around. I guess I didn’t expect it to look like the North Pole or nothing, not really, but Jesus, what a dump! I met this Chinese guy in the airport who told me about getting a hotel room for now. I took a cab through the streets and saw how not-like-Christmas this place really was. I thought about the song and how it was about an island with coconuts and shit. I didn’t see no coconuts. Just shit. I got to the hotel and paid for my room. The guy there was Chinese, too. They must all know each other and get kickbacks or something. I went to my room. It didn’t help my mood at all. I put down my bags and took a shower, the first one I’d had in days…or hours, or whatever. The twilight zone, time warp thing got me all out of whack. Anyway, the shower helped me focus and anyway the hotel room had a TV. I turned it on and unpacked my things. That’s when I noticed my record was all jacked up. I held it in my hands and just looked at it. It was like I got lied to. Like I just found out there was no Santa Claus. But this was worse because now I knew the worst part: There wasn’t no Christmas at all.
I fell into a pretty hard depression. I got to drinking pretty heavy, even for me. There wasn’t much on this island, but there was booze and plenty of people to share it with. I got pretty chummy with this guy Xiao. I think that’s how you spell it. Chinese guy. Lots of Chinese guys here. Go figure. I don’t give a shit; I ain’t a bigot like some guys I know. Tony? Back at the dock in Jersey? That guy’s a real douchebag.
I ended up getting a job doing security. Like I said, I’m a big guy. I met a bunch of really good guys and they hooked me up. There’s all these abandoned mines and shit all over the place and they gotta guard them for some reason, I don’t know. I work at the bars, sometimes, too. So I fell into a groove, quit drinking so much and made myself a little life here on Christmas Island. I never got that record replaced or bought a cassette or nothing. I figure I’m done with all that. The Bible says something about putting away your toys and be a man… or something like that.
About 10 months later, I was a real Australian. I had to get my citizenship changed for some work thing. I didn’t understand it, but whatever, it was easy. I started seeing a girl. Her name was Lola. I sang her that Kinks song; “Lo lo lo Lola” but she didn’t know it. I played it for her and it was our little joke for a few weeks. Then she got annoyed and I don’t do it no more. Anyway, Lola lives with me now and things were going pretty good.
Now, you hear people talk about the crabs here. I don’t mean to eat, I mean like the kind that live here. You also hear people talk about boobies a lot. At first I was like “Yeah!” but then I found out that a Booby is a kind of bird they have here. It still makes me laugh sometimes. Anyway, the crabs. So I keep hearing that the crabs are coming, the crabs are coming. I asked the guys at work one day, “Ay! What’s all this nonsense about the crabs?” They told me that every year around this time, there’s this massive migration of Christmas Crabs and they take over the island. I was like, “Yeah, right. Haze the new guy, right?” and I ignored them.
Then, one day, I’m driving to work. I’m not really paying attention, just kind of zoning out, listening to the radio. All of a sudden I hear PAP! PAP! PAP! I slammed on the brakes and ducked down cause I thought I was being shot at. But the noise stopped. I slowly got up and saw the freakiest fucking thing I ever saw in my life. When I was a kid, I read this comic book version of War of the Worlds, and the aliens took over Earth with this red plant that grew over everything. What I was looking at looked exactly like that, but it was moving. I am so glad I was alone in the car that day cause I screamed like a little girl, I swear to God.
These red crabs were everywhere. Everywhere. They were in the road, the sidewalk, the forest trees, the beach, everywhere. I realized what that sound had been and I didn’t know what to do. Do I go to work and squish more? Do I shoo them out of the way? Should I put it in reverse and call in to work? I put the car in park, took the keys and tiptoed through the crabs, kicking them aside, all the way home. I called in to work; Lola was out. I told them about the crabs and they were all like, “We tell you so!” and they called me a pussy for not coming in. They told me to watch out cause sometimes the power goes out from all the crabs getting into the lines and everything. I hung up and watched some TV. Nothing was on but game shows and soap operas. I watched a little Wheel of Fortune until the power went out. The TV crackled with static electricity for a few seconds and then the room was silent. I spent the rest of the day by the window, looking out at the thousands of crabs choking the roads, making the landscape ripple like a red, velvet cape. I began to sing to myself without realizing it.
How'd ya like to spend Christmas
On Christmas Island…



Author's Note:
When I finished writing this, I realized I didn't do the title justice. I like my story and I love the title, but the story took itself in a direction that didn't quite fit the title. But since this project was intended to be a catylist for me, it did that quite well.