#our characters

The Shoe Merchant

The Wondarium marched through the desert with a gentle sway; Suzuran watched the scrub and rolling hills pass below them through the window, and wondered if this was what ships were like. It certainly wasn’t what the ocean was like, but she had heard people describe waves before. Behind her, Mr. Bell was saying something pompous to Willow and Mocha about making up for the time their stop had cost him; it didn’t seem like he was actually listening to Willow’s responses, though.

“Say, Robin,” she said, looking away from the window and towards the gunwoman slouching gracefully against the nearby wall, “doesn’t he sound just like the Clever Shoe Merchant?”

“The who?”

“The Clever Merchant who Sold Shoes?” Suzuran said, but the confusion didn’t leave Robin’s face. “From the stories? When I was young, the puppet master did a voice that sounded just like this for all the Clever Merchant tales.”

“That’s not any stories I heard.” The older woman shook her head.

“Are you sure? They were always very popular,” Suzuran frowned in thought, “Maybe you just don’t remember.”

“I haven’t heard of them either,” Mocha said, having left the one-sided conversation Mr. Bell was having. “Why would you tell children stories about merchants? That doesn’t sound very interesting.”

“Oh but they are!” Suzuran exclaimed. She couldn’t believe that they didn’t know this! “They always told them at festivals, with the painted booths and the curtains and everything! You have to hear these sorts of things, and it was so much fun!”

“The girl is right.” Ugh. Mr. Bell had followed Mocha over, and now he interrupted whatever Mocha might have said in response. “It’s important for young children to learn the principles of business, and how better to teach them than with a story?” His smile was so condescending. “Why don’t you tell us this story then, since your friends don’t seem to know it?”

Suzuran frowned; Mr. Bell had clearly missed the point of the story when he was young. “Well, I don’t have a stage or the puppets or anything…” She looked at Robin to see her response, but the gunwoman was looking at her too, now.

“Oh I don’t think we need anything as fancy as all that!” Mr. Bell turned, waving away the objections. “Ms. Willow! Come listen to this girl’s story, she has an important lesson for us!”

Suzuran shot a glare at Mr. Bell. This wasn’t a performance. But if they all wanted to hear it, she could oblige. “All right,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Long ago, in a village in the mountains…”

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Long ago, in a village in the mountains, a Clever Merchant arrived with shoes for sale. They were finely made boots, stitched with colorful beads. When the villagers saw them, they exclaimed, and one stepped forward and said “Where did you come by such fine boots?”

The Clever Merchant replied “From here and there, across the world, and the price I ask is more than fair for such fine handiwork.”

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“I don’t think I sound like that at all,” said Mr. Bell, before the others shushed him.

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“More than fair,” said the Clever Merchant, “and such craft you will not see again soon.”

“No, I had thought not,” said the villager, “because I stitched those beads, and I placed them on my husband’s feet, and I buried him in the forest last week!”

“Well, it was a forest where I found them,” said the Clever Merchant, “but if you do not wish to buy them, I will take them to the next village and sell them there.”

“Thief!” shouted the villager – and here Suzuran raised her voice to fill the room.

“Not at all!” said the Clever Merchant – in a voice nearly as loud – “You gave these boots to the dead, and the dead can own nothing. Take me to your wise ones, who Know the Laws of Men and the Laws of the World!”

And when the villagers brought the Clever Merchant before the wise ones, who Know the Laws of Men and the Laws of the World, it was as he had said. The dead own nothing but their Grudge, and so the widowed villager grumbled but bought the boots and paid the Clever Merchant their fair price.

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“Yes, that is wisdom,” said Mr. Bell with an oblivious sagacity. “It’s a good thing that the merchant brought those boots back before the elements ruined them.” Suzuran glared again at the man, until he met her gaze. “Oh is there more? Do go on.” He sounded entirely too pleased.

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The next year the Clever Merchant returned to the village in the mountains, again with shoes for sale. This time he had enough shoes for every youth in the village, in every size, and all tightly stitched and firm. When the villages saw him, they asked “Where did you come by such fine shoes?”

“From here and there, across the world, and the price I ask is more than fair for such fine handiwork,” the Clever Merchant said again.

“But how did you come by so many?” they pressed him.

“A clever merchant has ways,” he replied, with feigned modesty. “Across the mountain, a landslide destroyed many farms, and many farmers there wear such fine shoes.”

“Dead man’s shoes again!” the villagers cried.

“Not at all!” the Clever Merchant shouted back. “But farmers must eat, and when I brought food, these shoes are all they had to pay with; and now from my generosity all your village can be finely shod!”

The villagers grumbled loudly, that it was a cheat and a trap, that they would inherit the farmer’s Grudges, and the Clever Merchant once again asked to be brought to the wise ones, who Know the Laws of Men and the Laws of the World. When he was brought before them, who Know the Laws of Men and the Laws of the World, they said that he was correct, that a man may buy and sell as he wished, and that possessions do not have Grudges, and so the village paid the Clever Merchant their fair price.

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“But how would the farmers work without shoes?” Mocha asked, but Mr. Bell shushed her quickly.

“That’s not the merchant’s worry, or the villagers. Let her finish the story.”

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On the third year the Clever Merchant returned to the village, and this time he brought delicate slippers of soft silk and vibrant dyes. The villagers again came out to see him, and asked “Where did you come by such fine slippers?”

“From here and there, across the world, and the price I ask is more than fair for such fine handiwork,” the Clever Merchant replied. “And before you ask! No one died, no one starved in these slippers – in fact, no one has ever worn them before!”

And as the villagers stared at him, he explained: “Across the mountain, and across the mountain again, a woman and man wished to be married, and her young man’s family could not pay the bridal price, and so she and he sold me many fine garments, and these slippers are the last and finest of what they would have worn at their wedding.”

And so the villagers listened, and considered, and then came to the Clever Merchant and pulled him from his horse and beat him to death.

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“What!” shouted Mr. Bell, but Suzuran did not let him interrupt her.

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And beat him to death. – and here Suzuran wished she had the bladder of fake blood to spray, but she made do with her fist against her palm, the heavy pounding of flesh once, twice, and thrice – And then the villagers went to speak to the wise ones, who Know the Laws of Man and the Laws of the World, and told them what had happened, and asked who would bear the Clever Merchant’s Grudge.

The wise ones, who Know the Laws of Man and the Laws of the World, listened to the story, and asked who had killed him, and the villagers said that they did not know, they had all struck him – and so it was agreed that as no one had killed him, no one would bear the Clever Merchant’s Grudge. The slippers were given to a young woman who was to be married at the end of spring, and there was much joy shared at her wedding at her good fortune to be so finely clad, and for such a fair price, by the Clever Merchant who Sold Shoes.

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