The Crab of Cant

I made a fool of myself in the town of Cant today, simply because I was too proud to ask for help. A very masculine problem, I know. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's start at the beginning.

I arrived at Cant just as the sun was beginning to set. The town was situated between the coastal foothills and the ocean itself, and its quaint buildings and cobblestone streets welcomed me like an old friend. I was exhausted and hungry, but also filled with curiosity about this small hamlet and its people.

As I neared the town gate, a pair of guards halted my approach.

"Business?" The guard on the left asked. He was tall and had a funny mustache, like some movie detective.

"Just passing through," I replied. "Need a place to stay the night, maybe do some sightseeing."

The tall guard turned to the shorter, squatter guard beside him and said, "Soft-shell crab."

"From a far shore?" The short guard asked.

I was puzzled. "Sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

The tall guard chuckled. "It's an expression. It means you aren't from around here."

"Oh," I said, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Well, yes, I'm from a different country. Is that a problem?" The encounter with Rocco was still fresh in my mind.

"Nah, we don't mind guests," the short guard said. "Just a few rules, though. Don't cause trouble, don't steal, and don't be a starfish."

"A starfish?" I asked, my confusion deepening.

The tall guard smirked. "Means don't be lazy. You pull your weight around here."

I nodded, not entirely sure if I understood... but not wanting to appear any more foolish than I already did.

The guards let me pass, and I soon found myself wandering the streets of Cant, taking in the sights and sounds of this charming village. It didn't take a genius to determine that the townsfolk made their living from the sea, based on the stalls of fresh seafood and the nets hanging from the eaves of the houses. Children were playing with toy boats and laughing as they ran through the streets. It was picturesque.

Eventually, I came across an inn called "The Seagull's Perch" and decided it would be a good place to rest for the night. The innkeeper, a plump woman with a warm smile, greeted me as I entered.

"Washed ashore, have you?" She asked.

I smiled awkwardly and replied, "Uh, yes, I guess you could say that."

She chuckled and said, "Well, you're in luck. We've got a room for you. It's twenty shells a night, though."

Inwardly, I panicked. I hadn't earned any money since arriving in Occasia, and I found its monetary system quite confusing. What were shells? Were they the glass "dollars" I had seen earlier? And why was the beach's value measured in sand?

"I'm afraid I don't have any shells," I admitted. "I was robbed. On the way here. See how empty my bag is?" I showed her my empty saddlebag, hoping she would take it as evidence of my distress. "I was thinking... perhaps I could work it off somehow? I don't want to be a starfish, you know?"

The innkeeper's eyes lit up. "Oh, you poor crab. Robbed of your shells, have you? Well, I suppose I can put you up for tonight. But you'll owe me payment by tomorrow's end, or it's back on the street for you."

I thanked her profusely, relieved to have a roof over my head, and made my way to the room she had assigned me. A small, one-bed chamber with a pleasant view of the ocean. The sound of the waves lapping against the shore lulled me to sleep, and after such a long journey, I welcomed sweet oblivion.

The next morning, I stretched my sore muscles and made my way downstairs. The innkeeper, who introduced herself as Martha, prepared a breakfast of eggs and sausage, with a side of fresh bread.

"Eat up," Martha said. "The old baker, Mr. Haddock, could use some help today. His delivery boy is sick, and he needs someone to make the rounds for him. I'll take you there once you're done eating."

I nodded and dug in, savoring the delicious meal. Once I had finished, Martha led me to the bakery, a small, cozy building with a sign that read, "Haddock's Hearth." Mr. Haddock, a rotund man with a bushy beard and a flour-dusted apron, greeted us with a broad smile.

"Martha, my dear scallop, who's this you've brought me?" He asked, wiping his hands on his apron.

"This is Jules," Martha replied. "He's a traveler, but he's willing to work for his keep. I thought you might be able to use an extra hand today."

Mr. Haddock appraised me for a moment, then nodded. "Aye, that I could. My lad's come down with the clams, and I've got a full day of deliveries ahead of me. Are you up for the task, Jules?"

I hesitated, unsure of what 'the clams' might be, but I figured it must be some sort of illness. "Yes, sir, I'm ready to help," I replied, determined to prove myself.

Mr. Haddock handed me a list of addresses and a large basket filled with bread. "These are the houses you need to deliver to. Make sure you get it all done before the tide comes in."

I stared at the list, my heart sinking as I realized that the addresses were not addresses, but names of locations: The Widow's Lantern, The Gull's Choirhouse, The Crooked Smile, and The Last Catch.

"Mr. Haddock," I said, trying to sound casual, "I'm not familiar with the local... addresses. Could you explain what these mean?"

He chuckled and clapped me on the back. "You'll find them, lad. Just ask around."

I nodded, finding Mr. Haddock's advice sensible enough. Except that once I left the baker's shop with breadbasket in hand, my explorer's senses kicked in. I began searching for signs that read "The Widow's Lantern", or any other location on my delivery list.

I must have walked a lap around the whole town before I grew frustrated and decided to ask someone for help.

"Pardon me, miss. Do you happen to know where The Widow's Lantern is?"

The young woman blinked. "The Widow's Lantern? You mean Mrs. Piper's house?"

Oh. So it was a house all along. "Um, yes, I think so. Can you tell me where it is?"

She pointed toward a narrow lane overlooking the harbor.

"Third house on the left. The one with the lantern hanging out front."

I stared at her. "Then why not just call it that?"

She laughed.

"Because that's Mrs. Piper's house. The Widow's Lantern is just what everyone calls it."

"Why is that, exactly?" I was curious.

"She lights the lantern every night in honor of her deceased husband. A beautiful ritual, isn't it?"

A beautiful ritual, yes. Helpful to my purposes? Less so.

"Thank you, miss. I'll be on my way."

I eventually arrived at Mrs. Piper's house, but she wasn't home. I left her wrapped-up loaves on a table on her porch, declaring my first delivery done with.

As I left for my second delivery, I couldn't help but notice the townsfolk giving me curious looks as I passed, my basket still full of undelivered bread. Their expressions seemed to say, "Poor soft-shell, he's lost and doesn't even know it." At that moment, I realized what a fool I was for not following Mr. Haddock's advice sooner. Now it was late in the morning, I was getting hungry again, and if I continued to fail at my job, I would lose my sole foothold in this land of Occasia.

Finally, with a defeated sigh, I approached a group of fishermen who were mending their nets by the dock. I swallowed my pride and said, "Excuse me, but could you help me? I'm trying to deliver bread, but I can't seem to find the right houses."

The fishermen exchanged glances, then one of them, an older man with a grizzled beard, stepped forward. "Of course, lad. Let's see your list."

I handed him the paper, and he scanned it before chuckling. "Ah, I see. You're new to Cant, aren't you?"

I nodded, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief. "Yes, I am. I'm sorry for the trouble."

"No trouble at all," the fisherman said, patting my shoulder. "We're happy to help a guest in need. Now, let me explain what these addresses mean."

He explained each of the remaining locations on my list. The Gull's Choirhouse was a cottage overlooking the harbor, where an old woman feeds gulls every morning. The Crooked Smile was the home of a retired fisherman with missing teeth, who has a reputation for being unreasonably optimistic. And The Last Catch was the home of a fisherman who, despite swearing each season that he'll retire, still finds an excuse to keep going.

I thanked the helpful fisherman and went on my way. It only took another half hour to deliver the remaining bread, and I happened to learn something about each person I delivered to, which made me feel a little better about the whole ordeal.

As I returned to Mr. Haddock's bakery, he greeted me with a wide grin. "Ah, there you are, Jules! I see you've managed to make your deliveries."

"Yes, sir," I replied, feeling a sense of accomplishment despite my earlier struggles. "It took some time, but I got it done."

Mr. Haddock patted me on the back and said, "Great. Because while you were gone, I got five more delivery orders. Better get to it, crab."

And so I spent the rest of the day running errands and getting to know the people of Cant and their stories. They were a kind people, unlike that rascal Rocco or that strange appraiser fellow. It was I who needed to swallow my pride, accept their help, learn their manner of speech, and repay their generosity.

That night, as I lay listening to the waves, I couldn't help but smile. I may have been a "soft-shell crab" when I first arrived in Cant, but thanks to the kindness of its people, I was starting to grow a tougher shell, piece by piece.