Fig Finds the Ferry Bell

Fig lived above a harbor shop where ropes hung in the window and gulls argued on the roof. His favorite sound was the ferry bell, though he had never discovered exactly where its bright note began.

One quiet morning he followed the deckhands down the pier, keeping his white paws safely between the painted lines. When the ferry approached, a brass bell beside the gate rang twice. Fig sat beneath it, round-eyed, as the sound trembled through his whiskers.

After that, he greeted every arrival from the shop window. Two rings meant travelers, parcels, and stories from across the water—and sometimes a deckhand with a small piece of breakfast saved for the harbor’s most punctual kitten.