Claude was a small orange crab who lived by the sea. He had eight neat legs, two careful claws, and a round shell the color of a ripe tangerine.
Claude loved the sea very much. He loved the rock pools and the cold waves and the way the sand felt soft between his legs in the morning.
But one bright Tuesday morning, Claude decided he wanted to see what was on the other side of the big hill.
He had seen the bus before. It came every morning at half past eight, rumbling down the coast road with its big square windows and its cheerful yellow doors.
Claude tucked his claws in neatly. He sidled up to the bus stop. He waited.
All Aboard
The bus arrived in a great warm huff of air. The yellow doors swung open.
The bus driver was a large woman with silver hair and very round glasses. Her name badge said VERA. She looked down at Claude.
Claude looked up at Vera.
He held up one claw, very carefully, and placed a small shiny coin on the step.
Vera looked at the coin. She looked at Claude. She pressed her lips together in a way that was not quite a smile and not quite not a smile.
“One way to the village?” she said.
Claude gave a small, polite nod.
Vera picked up the coin and tucked it in the till. “Seat near the front is free,” she said. “Mind the step.”
Claude minded the step. He climbed on board.
The Passengers
The bus was not very full. There was an old man in a flat cap reading a folded newspaper. There was a young woman with a sleeping baby in a sling. There was a boy about four years old sitting with his grandma, eating a biscuit from a paper bag.
Claude sidled carefully to the seat near the front and settled in. His shell just reached the top of the seat back. He folded his claws neatly in his lap and looked out of the window.
The sea was already getting smaller behind them. Claude watched it shrink to a pale blue strip between the fields.
The bus trundled on. It passed a farm with muddy sheep. It passed a baker’s with cakes in the window. It passed a school with children in the playground, running and laughing and chasing each other.
Claude watched all of it with his round black eyes and said nothing at all.
The boy with the biscuit leaned across the aisle. “Are you a crab?” he whispered.
Claude turned and looked at him. He raised one small claw in a gentle wave.
The boy’s eyes went very wide. He turned to his grandma. “Grandma,” he breathed. “There is a crab on the bus.”
Grandma looked over the top of her glasses. She looked at Claude. Claude looked back at her, very politely.
“So there is,” said Grandma calmly, and went back to her knitting.
The Last Stop
The bus rolled into the village square and stopped with a long, comfortable sigh.
“Last stop,” called Vera.
The old man folded his newspaper and tucked it under his arm. The young woman adjusted the sleeping baby. The boy broke the last piece of his biscuit in two and left half of it on the seat beside Claude, very carefully, without saying a word.
Claude looked at the biscuit. He picked it up with one gentle claw.
Everyone filed off the bus into the warm square. Claude climbed down the step carefully, his eight legs going one at a time.
He stood in the village square and looked around. There were flowers in pots. There was a fountain with a small stone fish. There was a bakery, and the smell drifting out of it was warm and sweet and golden.
Claude took it all in. He ate his piece of biscuit slowly, standing in the sunshine in the middle of the square.
Then he turned around.
Vera was still sitting in the driver’s seat, engine idling gently.
Claude sidled back to the bus. He placed another small coin on the step.
Vera looked down. The corner of her mouth went up, just a little.
“Back to the sea?” she said.
Claude gave a small, polite nod.
“Seat near the front is still free,” said Vera.
Claude climbed back on. He settled into his seat. He looked out of the window as the village square slipped away behind them and the road curved back down towards the sea.
When the water came back into view, pale and wide and sparkling, Claude raised one small claw against the window.
Hello again, he thought, I missed you.
At the last stop, he stepped off the bus. He turned and raised one claw to Vera.
Vera raised one hand back.
The yellow doors swung shut. The bus rumbled away down the coast road.
And Claude sidled back down to his rock pool, his claws tucked in, his shell warm from the sun, and a very small, very quiet happiness sitting right in the middle of his chest.
✨ Moral: Be kind to everyone you meet, because the world is made warmer by small acts of quiet friendliness.