Crabbo and Clever Crabbo by Wendy Nichols

Author:Wendy Nichols
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mid-Grade Reader
Publisher: Writers Exchange E-Publishing
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 3

The Cripps' Shop

Mark loved the Cripps' shop. The walls were painted a light blue to match the sea and the shelves were a bright yellow. Above the shelves was a picture of three fierce little fish chasing a large shark. One fish had stopped to take a photo.

Delicious food smells wafted around the shop. They always made Mark hungry. But it was the counter that Mark liked best. Sitting on top, were large glass jars of delicious sweets, pink, green and rainbow coloured ones. Peeping out from behind the glass were packets of chocolates and long sticks of licorice. They seemed to say 'Buy me, eat me.'

A bell jangled as Mark opened the door. Mark and Ellie smiled at Mrs Cripps as she looked up from her dusting, but Mrs Cripps didn't return their smile. She still looked sad as she pushed some loose grey hair into the bun on the back of her head.

"What can I do for you today? Another milkshake?" she said as she brushed her hands down the front of her floral dress.

Mark shook his head and lifted Crabbo out of his pocket and put him on the top of the counter.

"Ah, I see you've found yourself a pet," said Mrs Cripps. She lifted her hand to pat Crabbo.

"I'm not a pet! I'm a wild beast," said Crabbo nipping the glass jars with his claws. "Ow, those jars are hard!"

Mrs Cripps stared at Crabbo and then at Mark and Ellie. "It talks! How does it do that? Has it got batteries?"

She lifted Crabbo up into the air and poked his bottom.

"Hey, cut that out, you're tickling." Crabbo chuckled and wriggled in Mrs Cripps' hand.

Mark laughed as Crabbo swung his claws around in the air trying to get down. "He's real, Mrs Cripps. And he talks."

Shocked, Mrs Cripps dropped Crabbo. Mark lunged forward and caught him just before he hit the counter.

"Real? A talking crab? I'm 63 years old and I've never heard of such a thing." She called out the door to her husband. "Joe, come here, quickly."

Mr Cripps raced through the door. His round tummy wobbled and his glasses slipped down his nose. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Grandpa," said Crabbo. "I'm here to save your business."

Mr Cripps looked at Crabbo sitting in Mark's hand and then up at Mark.

"How did you do that? Your lips didn't move. Are you a ventriloquist?"

Ellie giggled and shook her head. "He's real, Mr Cripps. He's a talking crab."

Mr Cripps threw his hands up in the air. "A talking crab? I must be getting old. My jars of sweets will be telling me stories soon."

He gave Mrs Cripps's arm a little pinch. "Ow! What did you do that for?" said Mrs Cripps as she rubbed her arm.

"I thought I must be dreaming," chuckled Mr Cripps. "So I had to pinch you to make sure."

Crabbo held out a claw to Mr Cripps, "Name's Crabbo." Mr Cripps took the claw and gently shook hands.

Then Crabbo crawled across the counter and looked up at Mrs Cripps.

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