The Turtle Who Had No Shell
by Rob Lichter, inspired by a title by Alexandra Poveda

An Irish family, the O’Shonsteins, were walking down the plank, off the ship. They had been at sea for three and a half months and they were stinky. Seamus and his wife, Shannon had three children. Their names were Declan, Conor and Michelle. Michelle was a beautiful dark haired teenager. Her little brothers and her parents were all stereotypical redheads.
“Here we are, my boyos!” Seamus said loudly to his brood, “The land of milk and honey! The land where gold grows in the sidewalks and potatoes are plentiful as the shamrocks of Dublin!”
Conor didn’t even look up from his iPod, where he was watching Saw V. “Whatever, Dad. Why didn’t we take an airplane like normal people?” Declan was texting. Seamus turned to his wife.
“We did it, me love. We made it to America!” he said lovingly.
“I don’t know,” she said, looking around at the shops and street vendors.
“Whadya mean you don’t know?! Look around! We can start our new life here! A little hard work and we’ll be welcomed with open arms!”
“I wouldn’t be surprised, but I don’t see any,” Shannon said, calmly.
“Well, I didn’t mean right away, you understand,” replied Seamus. He was starting to feel disappointed. His family clearly didn’t share his excitement.
“Yes, “ said Shannon apropos of nothing.
“Eh?” said a confused Seamus.
“Tuesday, I suppose, but you can upload the stats before then,” continued Shannon.
Seamus gloomily realized she was speaking to her co-workers on her Bluetooth headset. He looked at Conor, searching his Google maps for a Starbucks. Declan was typing “WTF” on his phone, whatever that meant. Michelle was…staring around in awe.
“Do you like America, child?” asked Seamus as he approached Michelle.
“Oh Da, it’s the most wonderful place in the whole world! Can we stay here? Can we?!” Michelle blurted.
Seamus laughed, “Aye, lass, aye.”
Twenty years later, Michelle and her father, Seamus, were watching America’s Funniest Home Videos and eating their dinner; take-out Chinese.
“Da,” began Michelle when the commercials started.
“Aye,” replied her father, taking another bite of fried dumpling.
“Do ye regret…you know? What we did?” continued Michelle, not looking at her father.
“Leaving the others at the dock and starting a new life, just the two of us? Not for a moment!” he laughed, ruffling her hair.
Twenty years after that conversation, Seamus lay in a hospital bed, connected to several beeping machines. His breathing was labored and slow. Michelle was seated in the corner, sleeping. She had been by her father’s side ever since the heart attack. Seamus awoke with a start. His Fairy Godmother was standing by the foot of the bed. She glowed a brilliant gold and smiled a smile that made him feel at peace at once.
“Faith and Begorrah!” erupted Seamus, because he wasn’t expecting this, not by a long shot.
“Hello, Seamus. I am your Fairy Godmother and I am here to give you peace.” Said the Fairy Godmother.
“Are ye here to…take me away?” whispered Seamus. He was excited and calm at the same time.
“No, Seamus. I am here to remove you from your Earthly cocoon. You will live out the remainder of your life as any creature you wish, though it may not be human.”
Seamus thought about this. What animal would he like to be? What animal form would keep him safe and happy? His mind went immediately to his childhood. He was eight years old. Seamus was whiling away the afternoon, throwing rocks into the loch. He picked up a stone and was shocked to see that it was, in fact, a turtle. He named it Shelly, after his Aunt Shelly. He loved that turtle. He kept it in a small, wooden box by his window. One day, after coming home from school, little Seamus came into his bedroom to discover a Natterer’s bat clawing at Shelly (the turtle, not his aunt). Before he could get to them, the bat took off with Shelly. Seamus was heartbroken. But eventually he got over it, got married, had kids and moved to America, where Natterer’s bats are not indigenous.
As if reading his mind, the Fairy Godmother spoke.
“A turtle you shall be. But I must also insist you make one sacrifice.”
“A sacrifice? Have I not suffered enough in this life?” asked Seamus.
“You abandoned your family forty years ago. Their lives have not been easy because of it,” said the golden fairy.
“Heh, oh yeah..that,” said an embarrassed Seamus.
“So what will you sacrifice for your sins?” The fairy prodded.
Unfortunately, at that moment, Seamus’ daughter began to wake up.
“MICHELLE!” Seamus reflexively called out.
“So it shall be,” the fairy responded and with a wave of her hand, Seamus the Irish immigrant became small, wrinkly, soft lump of green flesh; a shell-less turtle. The fairy disappeared instantly, before Michelle ever saw her. Michelle looked around, checked the bathroom, and then looked in the bed.
“Da?” she called out. It was then that she saw the hideous form her father had taken. Unable to communicate in spoken language, he was unable to tell his daughter who he was.
“UGH!” cried Michelle in disgust and she never saw her father again.