Decisions, decisions

Mark and Sasha help me with Mr. Crab after I tearfully explain my previous misadventure of capturing him to keep him safe. Mark carefully goads him into pinching various objects to figure out how dangerous he really is.

“Don’t you dare!” Sasha’s voice rings out. Me and Mark freeze, his hands still holding the cast iron skillet. The floor is littered with various pipes and other long durable objects, each with their ends mangled regardless of the material.

Mark looks sheepishly at her as I try to pretend this isn’t all my fault. “But honey, we need to know how strong this little guy is. It’s for science.” I wholeheartedly agree, and want to see Mr. Crab destroy more things in the name of science now that Mark and Sasha are here to help keep me safe. But that doesn’t mean I will voice my support when Sasha looks ready to kill Mark.

“He already destroyed every random metal pipe you had to poke him with, it’s obvious he’s going to destroy my skillet. Now put it back or I’m hitting you with it later!”

Mark sulkily returns the skillet to the kitchen, denying Mr. Crab something to take his endless crab rage out on. “We still need a new cage to keep him in. One he can’t grab in his claws.”

Sasha sighs and goes to the garage. When she comes back it’s with a three feet wide, one foot deep and one and a half feet tall empty fish tank. “There. He can’t grab flat glass. And you can put water in it.”

“Thank you Sasha.” I smile up at her. She returns my smile and then we both look to Mark.

“… what?”

Sasha speaks up for me. “The crab isn’t mine to deal with, and you can’t expect sweet little Melody to lift the carrier up to drop the crab into the fish tank.” I giggle. Okay, maybe I shouldn’t find this so funny. Having made my living from picking things up and putting them down elsewhere, I understand that it’s a very important job that forms the basis of the economy and can be harder than it sounds… but I still smile sweetly at Mark to let him know that “sweet little Melody” appreciated him doing the work that I made necessary by capturing Mr. Crab. It feels weird playing the tiny helpless maiden card to get someone to do something for me, and I probably wouldn’t do it to a stranger. But Mark? That lucky bastard shares a bed with me and Sasha. He can absolutely pick up heavy and dangerous things for me.

A few minutes later Mark has successfully dropped my new crab nemesis into the fish tank and secured a lid on it. Sasha and me look closely at it now that we can do so safely. The crab raises its claws at us menacingly, and tries to grab us through the glass. As its claws snap together, I am close enough to see a tiny red spark seem to pulse through its claw tips. “Whoa, that was cool!” I excitedly say, and turn to Sasha for her reaction.

“He certainly does want to **** us all. I don’t know if I’d call that cool. His color is really pretty, the blue shell and the red wings.” Damnit I forgot I was color blind again. I thought his wings were brown… wait a second.

“Didn’t you see the red sparkth?” I was doing so well with my S sounds.

“Red sparks?”

“When he snapped his claw shut.”

We both lean in close again as he tries his best to grab us and crush the life from us. His claw snaps shut and again tiny red sparks on both tips of his claws appear for a split second.

“See! There. Red sparks.”

“… sorry, I don’t see anything but a claw snapping shut.” … I hate mysteries. At least when they are happening to me. I sigh, not really sure how to proceed. She doesn’t see it, and it’s red. One of two colors I can’t see anymore, except apparently when a crab’s little heart overflows with enough murderous rage. I don’t have enough information to make more than a guess, so I’m not going to push it… but this is going to drive me nuts for a while.

“That’s okay… I should focus on getting a new job anyways, not on Mr. Crab.”

“… I want to tease you for naming him Mr. Crab, as there has got to be a million better names. But what do you mean get a new job? Me and Mark make plenty of money between the two of us. If you are getting tired of being cooped up in here all day, I’m sure we can figure something else out.”

“I just don’t like… feeling useless. You both work and I… I can barely do any chores.” I try to sound neutral about it, but I can’t help but let some of my shame about the situation into my voice.

“That’s okay. I didn’t want you back in my life to be the house maid.”

Mark comes back in to the living room from the kitchen… I kind of feel bad because I hadn’t noticed he left after he put the crab in the tank, I was too eager to get a closer look. I had better just pretend I knew he was gone the whole time. “I know, but I’d still like to be able to help somehow.”

Sasha looks at me with loving exasperation, the turns to Mark. “Can you please tell her she doesn’t need a job or to be able to do chores? That we love her all the same?”

Mark, you have my sympathy. He stops mid stride as he suddenly is dragged into the conversation. “Uh… she doesn’t need to get a job. But if she wants to get one I support that decision.”

Sasha playfully glares at him. “She said she feels useless without a job. Tell her that’s not true.” Me and Mark share a look, and I know he understands where I’m coming from.

“She knows it’s not true. That’s not the problem, the problem is she feels like it’s true. Nothing you or I can say will change that.” I think Mark took some psychology courses in college as electives, either way I’m glad he’s arguing on my side.

“But why a job to feel useful? Can’t she do anything else? A hobby?” Okay, Sasha. I love you but it’s a little annoying that you’re asking Mark about my thoughts rather than me. I mean, I’m terrible at communicating and Mark seems to be able to pick up my thought process very successfully, but still. I’m not even drunk right now!

And right now Mark actually seems to be struggling coming up with a way to explain this. Finally he sighs. “Melody was James. And James, I guarantee, grew up in a culture that constantly told him, directly or indirectly, that his primary worth as a man is directly tied to his ability to contribute to his family. Whether that be as a son helping his parents or a husband providing for his wife and kids, his whole life has told him he needs to contribute in some measurable way. And I have no idea what you expect me to say to make that suddenly disappear. I. Have. Nothing.”

I wasn’t expecting quite that impassioned of a defense of my feelings, but I guess this time him understanding me makes a lot more sense. I hadn’t really thought of it as a gendered thing. Sasha sighs. “So what, she just has to be sad until she finds a way to make money?”

“I mean, I doubt the money is required as long as she feels like she’s contributing. Right Melody?”

“Yeah.”

Mark nods, and then swerves the conversation so badly I get mental whiplash. “So why not be a YouTuber?”

I frown at Mark. I have been pretty impressed with his insight into my mind since we first met, and I guess he has to be wrong sometimes. But come on! “Melody doesn’t like being the center of attention. Why would you suggest that?” You know, having these two saves me so much effort. I don’t have to argue anything, they make my points for me… oh my god my name is a musical reference and I am silent most of the time.

While I reel at the realization my new name could be considered a joke at my very nature, Sasha and Mark keep arguing about what would be the perfect task or job that I could do. Sasha, despite her earlier comment about not wanting a maid, suggests exactly that. “We can rearrange things to be easier for her to clean, get an easier to load dish washer, lighter vacuum, lower shelves. We can afford to get new furniture that has everything lower to the ground. Add a light little foot stool and you can reach anything that needs cleaning.”

Mark sticks to his guns. “You don’t have to interact with anyone directly, and there are literally no standards beyond basic legal ones. You’d be your own boss and be able to talk about or do anything you wanted. You could literally have the crab be the star, and never show your face. We can convert the guest room to another computer room.”

They both make great points. And I didn’t need to say a thing, they just argued at each other mostly. Unfortunately neither option is immediately appealing. Both basically require Mark and Sasha to buy me the perfect situation to make it happen, whether that’s a whole new set of furniture and appliances for basically the whole house, not to mention asking them to intentionally be lazier to leave me more chores, or a complete streaming setup including a decently expensive computer. I do find the idea of co-hosting a YouTube show with a winged crab that wants to kill me kind of funny, but when I look at his hate filled beady black eyes I know it’s not something to joke about.

“I don’t know… I need to think more about it.” I feel a little bad that I can’t decide what I want to do, when me wanting to do something is the whole reason they just had a big long argument. But it’s a big decision! What if I choose one and they spend a bunch of money to help me make it happen, and then I still feel the same way after I try it? I’m starting to regret bringing this up. I don’t want to disappoint them! Why did I forget, nothing good ever comes from admitting your feelings!