When You Wish upon a Rat (6 page)

“As it was in the past.” Howard had finished her sentence with a sly grin. “And some of that light is from hundreds of years ago.”

“Wow!”

Ruth pulled the sandwiches from under the griller and spread butter over them. Then she found a plate and put them in front of Howard.

He picked one up and ate ravenously.

Ruth stood watching and thinking. There was something mysterious about him that she liked, something
unknown.
He never gave much away. Everyone at school couldn't wait to tell
everyone else what they'd been doing, or what had happened to them, or what they thought about things, but not Howard. He kept his views close to his chest, which was probably why he had no friends.

“Do you hate him?” she asked.

“Who?”

“Your dad,” she said.

Howard shrugged and took a long gulp of milk.

“How did you find my place?” she asked.

“I've seen your address on your schoolbag,” he said through a mouthful of food.

“So you're a bit of a spy, huh?”

“Kind of.” He looked around furtively as if he might, right at that moment, be looking for fresh clues to a mystery that he wasn't going to tell her about. “That's why I need a camera. So, where is your family?”

Without really intending to, Ruth told him the whole story of how she couldn't stand Marcus's bike races and even how she'd lied to her parents.

Howard made no comment, but she could tell he was listening carefully.

“So what are you going to do today?” he asked.

“Not sure yet,” she said. “Got any ideas?”

He took a huge bite of his second sandwich and shrugged as if he weren't very interested at all.

When Howard finished the sandwich, he stood up.

“Mind if I have a look around?” he asked.

“Okay,” Ruth said.

After he'd checked out the backyard and the bedrooms, they ended up in the front room, where it was warmer. Ruth sat on the heater and watched him snooping around. He banged a few notes on the piano, switched on the computer, picked up the delicate coffee cups on the sideboard and examined them closely. Then he picked up Marcus's guitar and strummed a few chords, all the time looking thoughtful, like he was on the verge of saying something important. Ruth was still trying to formulate a plan for the day.

Howard put the guitar down abruptly and took his jacket off, then went over to study the photos on the wall. Within a few moments he'd taken down the black-and-white shot of her and Rodney.

“Who is Rod?” he asked, taking it over to the window for more light.

“Rodney,” Ruth corrected him.

“Rodney, then,” Howard said. “Who is he?”

“The rat,” she said.

“I figured that!” Howard grinned, still staring intently at the photo. “So where did you get him?”

“From my aunt.”

“The one who died?”

“Yep.”

“Is he alive?”

Ruth looked up in surprise. “You mean the rat?”

“Yeah.”

No one had ever asked her that before.

“He looks alive,” Howard persisted.

Ruth suddenly wanted to hug the skinny boy standing by the window.

“Of course not,” she said. “It's just that I sort of …,” she began tentatively. “I sort of thought …” She stopped again.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.” Howard flopped down in front of the heater. “Come on, I want to know about him.”

So she told Howard about the day she was given the rat and about her sense that the rat knew things and actually understood what she said in some weird way. Then she told him how her good luck had disappeared when she didn't have the rat anymore.

“In what way?” Howard asked, his expression blank.

Ruth couldn't work out if he thought she was crazy or … not. “Well … my aunt died,” she said bluntly, “my friends turned on me, and … my family became … totally obnoxious.”

Howard nodded thoughtfully. She didn't care if he did think she was crazy; she could tell by the way he was listening that he wasn't a blabbing kind of person.

“So what happened to him?” Howard asked when she finally stopped talking.

“I … I lost him.” It hurt to have to admit it, even now.

“How?”

Ruth shrugged.

night away for one of Marcus's sporting events. It was late afternoon and everyone was grumpy. Ruth was particularly anxious to get back because her new best friend, the queen of the sixth grade, Lou Parker, was having a sleepover at her house. Only two other girls had been invited. This invitation meant that Ruth was now part of the all-important
inner
circle of sixth grade. Lots of good things like this had begun happening lately, and she'd started feeling lucky. Since Rodney.

“Step on it, Dad!” she'd said in a low voice, staring out the window. “This is snail's pace.”

“I'm doing the speed limit, Ruth.”

“There are no police around here!”

“That isn't the point.”

“Well, what
is
the point?” she'd said under her breath. Ruth was worried about Rodney down at the bottom of her bag. He did not take kindly to being cooped up in small places.

Suddenly, there was the floppy sound of rolling rubber, then a loud clunk, and the car began to drift sideways.

“Blowout.” Mr. Craze sighed, pulling the car to the side of the road. He closed his eyes and banged his head on the steering wheel before opening the door.

Without a word, the rest of them followed. Sure enough, the tire was completely wrecked. Strips were sticking off at all angles, and there was the smell of burned rubber. Everyone stared at it in dismay for a few moments.

“What's a blowout, Dad?” Paul asked.

“Well, it's when the tube inside the tire—”

“What does it matter what it is?” Ruth shrieked, kicking the tire angrily with one foot. “It means we can't drive on it!”

“Okay, calm down,” her father said. “Come on, Marcus, we'd better change this before it gets dark.”

Marcus jumped into position beside the wheel, and all their bags and food containers and bits and pieces were heaved out onto the ground around the car as Mr. Craze uncovered the spare-tire cavity.

“How long will this take?” Ruth was hopping from one foot to the other. “Because I have to get back to—”

“We all know what you have to do, Ruth!” her mother cut in irritably.

“Shouldn't take long,” Mr. Craze mumbled, head still in the
trunk. He lifted out the spare and rolled it to the side of the car. “All we need now is the jack.”

“Hurry, Dad!” Ruth began pacing up and down. “Please.”

She noticed her bag sitting on the side of the road and thought of Rodney lying there under all her things, with no idea of what was going on. Night was coming down. Better give him some air. She unzipped the bag and pulled him to the top and left the zip half undone.

“Oh no.” Mr. Craze groaned and straightened up from the trunk, shaking his head.

“What?” Mrs. Craze said in alarm. “What is it?”

“Just remembered that I took the jack out last week and forgot to put it back.” Mr. Craze groaned again and let his head roll back in a dramatic fashion. “Can't believe I did that.”

“So how are we going to change the wheel?” Ruth snapped.

“We're not, Ruthie,” her father replied apologetically. “We're going to have to ring for roadside service.”

“What!”

“No …” Mrs. Craze groaned too. “Ken … tell me this isn't happening!”

Mr. Craze looked at Marcus. “Have you got your phone?”

Grim-faced, Marcus handed his phone over. “Better be quick,” he said, “the battery's almost out.”

“So typical of this family!” Ruth yelled. “Nothing works.”

“We all do!” Mrs. Craze shouted back. “For goodness' sake, Ruth.”

“Ruth, would you please …”

Mr. Craze dialed the number and turned away to speak to the operator. But he had some difficulty describing exactly where they were. They'd taken one of the back roads as a shortcut, so no one was sure. Marcus was sent to find out the name of the bridge they'd just crossed. When he came back with the news that it was called Happy Chance Bridge, they all groaned.

Mr. Craze told the operator and switched the phone off. “They'll be up to an hour,” he said. “Just have to be patient.”

“Why does this always have to happen to us?” Ruth moaned in frustration.

“Ruth, you are not helping,” her mother said sharply.

“
Ruth, you are not helping,
” Ruth mimicked.

“Watch yourself, my girl,” said her father.

Ruth shrugged as though she couldn't care less and walked off toward the bridge. She was so angry that if another car had come past she would have hailed it and tried to get a ride back to the city. As it was, there was no other traffic at all. Ruth leaned on the white wooden railing of Happy Chance Bridge and fumed to herself.
Why did this have to happen on the one day when she really needed to be home at a certain time?
She looked at her watch and sighed. It was nearly six, the time she was meant to turn up at Lou's house for the sleepover. Everyone in
the whole year wanted an invitation to Lou's place and she'd finally cracked it. Now look where she was! On a bridge in the middle of nowhere! She didn't even have Lou's number to ring to explain what had happened. The darkness was creeping in around her.

When she got back to the car, Marcus and her parents were standing to one side staring morosely at the busted tire. Ruth opened the back door, about to join her little brother, who was playing on the backseat. But she stopped in shock when she saw what he was playing with. Paul must have spied Rodney at the top of her bag and taken him out.

“Stop!” Ruth yelled. “Give him to me now, Paul!”

“Oh, let him play with it, Ruthie,” Mrs. Craze said. “It keeps him occupied.”

“No!”

“He's not hurting it.” Her father tried to grab her arm to stop her from getting into the car, but Ruth slipped out of his grasp and managed to snatch the rat away from her little brother.

Paul started howling.

“You are such a pain, Ruth,” Marcus said, glaring at her. “Why can't you let him play with it? He wasn't hurting it.”

“Rodney's mine!”

“You're too old for that stupid rat anyway,” Marcus sneered. “Kids your age don't play with toys like that. You should give it to Paul.”

“Why don't you go and … and try out a new hairstyle,” Ruth shouted. “Pretty boy!”

She'd walked in on Marcus in the bathroom that morning. He'd been preening and hadn't known she was there. She'd watched him as he turned his head this way and that, putting on a smile and then a sultry frown.

“Hi, handsome,” she'd jeered.

She had stayed long enough to see him turn beet red before she ran out again.

Now Marcus made a swift grab for the rat; suddenly, it was his.

“How much do you love him, Ruthie?” He dangled Rodney by the tail just out of her reach. “Tell us all how much you
really
love him.”

“Give him back!” Ruth screamed.

But Marcus was enjoying himself too much. Every time she got near him, he pulled away. Back and forth they went, shouting at each other, circling the car.

“Mum! Dad!” she yelled. “Tell Marcus to give him to me!”

“Marcus!” Mr. Craze bellowed.

Just then a yellow car appeared some distance away. It looked like the roadside-service vehicle, and both of Ruth's parents turned away to watch it approach, their attention diverted.

“Looks like them.”

“They were quicker than I thought they'd be.”

That was all Marcus needed to up the ante. He began to dance backward toward the bridge.

Ruth blundered along after him, her panic rising to a new level.

“Old ratty wants a swim!” Marcus was on the bridge now, laughing and holding the rat up to his ear, appearing to listen. “Yep, he says he wants a swim! We'd better do what he wants, eh, Ruth?”