There were cops waiting on the dock as we pulled up, which was perplexing to everyone except me. As soon as the gangplank was down, the gendarmerie marched up, straight to the postal pile, and grabbed the crate with just my name on the label. Which wasn’t actually my crate, as I’d swapped labels with another crate the night before. And rearranged the stack, just in case their instructions were very specific. I felt a bit bad that someone in Little Creek wasn’t going to get their shipment, but there wasn’t much in the way of alternatives.