The Christmas Rat (7 page)

BOOK: The Christmas Rat
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Okay. I had done something.

When I got upstairs I just barely made it to the ringing phone.

It was my father. “Eric,” he said, “I checked with the apartment management people. They said they never heard of this Mr. Gabrail. He doesn't work for them.”

My heart sank. “Dad, remember? I showed you his card?”

“I know you did.”

“And Dad, he has these keys that fit the whole building.”

“Look, Eric, I do believe you. But if you're concerned—I am—simply double-lock the door from inside. And don't let anyone in. Can you do that?”

“Yeah.” I'd already been doing that. “Sure.”

“I mean it. It'll be impossible to get in.”

“I know.”

“Hey, cheer up. Christmas Eve tomorrow.”

“Don't worry, we'll win,” I replied glumly.

“Win what?” father asked.

“Ah . . . never mind.”

O
NE
D
AY
B
EFORE
C
HRISTMAS
-1-

I
woke in the
middle of the night.

I'm sure I hadn't heard anything. I mean, I'm a pretty good sleeper. Used to be, anyway. All the same, I had this feeling that something was happening in the basement. So I rolled over and looked at the alarm clock and saw that it was a little past two in the morning. Anje's favorite time.

I lay back, sort of, you know, edgy, pulled the blankets up to my chin, and just stared up at the dark ceiling. I heard a few cars passing outside and, for a brief, annoying time, a car alarm. There was wind too, a soft moaning right outside my window. The more I lay there the more I wanted to know about my army.

I slipped out of bed. There was some light coming from somewhere and it took me a moment to realize it was the little flashlight Anje had given me. It was glowing again, giving enough light for me to find my shirt and trousers. I didn't bother with shoes, just stepped into my slippers. I did make sure I had keys and I took the flashlight, too.

Quietly, I unbolted the door locks, checked to see if anyone was in the hallway. No one. Then I slipped out, pulled the door shut, and buzzed for the elevator. It clanked up and opened. I got on and was just about to push the button for the basement when I stopped. There was this faint scent of poison gas. Anje's smell. Did that mean he had just been on the elevator?

I hesitated. That elevator was noisy. If Anje was in the basement, he'd hear me coming for sure. I decided it might be better to walk. So I pushed the button for the lobby. The elevator started down, groaning and grinding as usual. Nervous, I almost pushed the
STOP
button, but held back.

The lobby was cold. At this time of night the heat was turned off. There was some snow tracked from the front door to right where I stood by the elevator. But I didn't see anyone.

Moving softly, I went to the back of the lobby and opened the stairwell door. The only light came from a glowing red
EXIT
sign shining downwards.

I stopped and asked myself: Do I really want to do this?

There was enough
yes
to keep going.

Grasping the banister—it was like an icicle—I started down the steps. They circled around four times before reaching the bottom landing.

Heart pounding, I eased the door open a crack and leaned forward.

The place was pitch black.

I flicked on my flashlight and poked the beam right and left. Nothing. I turned it off, and put it in my pocket. It still glowed.

I opened the door further, wide enough to stick my head in and look around. There was no light or sound. Maybe, I thought, nothing was happening.

Feeling braver, I took a step, letting the door shut behind me with a soft
clunk
.

I stood still and waited for my heart rate to get down to normal. All the while I stared into the dark and listened hard. I was hoping my eyes would adjust to the blackness but there was no adjustment to make. I decided the flashlight glow might give me away, so I left it by the door. That way, at least, I could find my way out.

I stepped away from the stairwell. Around one turn. Pretty soon the blackness was complete. I would have to feel my way.

As I remembered it, the stairwell was pretty much opposite where I wanted to go.

Hands before me, taking small steps, I started forward, trying to make no sound at all. Unexpectedly I touched something hard. Wiggling my fingers I reached out again and felt this clammy flatness. It was a concrete wall.

Hands pressed against it, I moved along to the right until I smashed into something metallic. I mean, the sound exploded. It was so loud I jumped—as if I hadn't made the sound—myself.

Gulping air, I was afraid to move. If Anje was down there, no way he didn't hear that sound. And if he did hear he'd know it was me.

Trying not to panic, I clenched my fists and took a deep breath, letting the air out slowly.

I realized I had walked into the row of ash cans. Fine. That meant the elevator was behind me. If I'd remembered it right, the direction I wanted to take was straight ahead.

I stared into the darkness, ears straining. I had no sense that anything else alive was there.

Nervous, I inched forward, having been in the basement enough times now to be pretty sure of the way. So I was startled when I came around the third turn and saw some light ahead. It was low, flickering. Like, you know, something was burning. There was this stink too.

Clinging to the wall with two hands, I crept forward. The light grew brighter. It was just around a corner. I moved my head so I could peek out with one eye.

There was Anje. He was sitting cross-legged on the cement floor, with what was left of my plastic army in front of him. Next to him was this ash can. Licks of fire rose up out of it.

As I watched, Anje plucked up one of my toy soldiers. Grasping it with both hands, he twisted it until, with a snap, he broke the figure in two. Then he tossed the pieces into the can, where I guess they burned or at least melted.

I watched, scared but fascinated too.

He reached for another soldier and repeated the same weird moves.

After he had burned up the whole army, he hitched himself forward, waved flames and smoke away with a hand, and peered into the can.

He must have been satisfied with what he saw. He stood, lifted the can and tipped it over, pouring what I think was hot, liquid plastic into the rat hole.

Gagging, I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep from throwing up. Then I backed away as fast as I could without making a sound. When I reached a place I thought was halfway to the steps, I stopped. Hoping to get my breath back, I pressed my forehead against the cool wall. It helped calm me down.

At last I looked up. I suppose there were still some flames because there was reddish light casting shadows on the walls.

All of sudden there was this banging sound, as if an ash can had been struck. Then I heard Anje's voice shouting, “There you are!”

Next moment, from around the corner, I saw the rat coming. He was racing right toward me. In nothing flat he passed to my left.

More scared of Anje than the rat, I ran too. In fact I followed the rat, only to smash right into a wall. Stunned, hurting, I turned and ran again, stumbling and crashing into what I think was a can. Anyway, I fell. But I forced myself up and crawled behind the can, then hunkered down as tightly as I could.

Moments later I saw a beam of light moving about. It came from Anje's long black flashlight. With my heart pounding, I held my breath.

He walked right by me. Couldn't have been more than four feet away. Then he was gone. I wasn't sure where he was going until I heard the elevator clanking down, the doors opening and shutting, and finally the sounds of the thing going up.

Letting out a sigh of relief, I stood up and made my way to the elevator. It had stopped moving. I was just about to push the button when I held back. Maybe Anje was on it. Maybe this was a trap.

Afraid to take the chance, I went to the stairwell door. The white flashlight was where I'd left it, still glowing. If he had seen it, he'd have known I was down there.

For the first time I had this thought: the flashlight, the one he'd given me with his name on the side, maybe he gave it to me for some reason. I mean, a reason other than the one he said, which was so I could see. Maybe—and it made me cold to think it—maybe, he gave it to me so
he
could always see
me
.

All the same, I picked it up and climbed the six floors to our apartment.

Soon as I got into my bed, I drew the blankets over my head and just hugged myself. I was feeling exhausted. Not that I could sleep.

I was thinking too much.

As far as I could tell the rat was safe. Okay. That was good. I was really glad about that. But there was still one more day before the cold eased off. See, my hope was still that when it got warmer, the rat would leave the building. So the final test would come tomorrow.

No! Later today.

-2-

It was almost eleven o'clock before I woke up again. It was still Thursday, the day before Christmas. Later, Christmas Eve. My first thought was, What's happened in the basement?

I stumbled into the kitchen where I found a note.

Christmas Eve is almost here!

We should be home no later than seven.

Special dinner. Stay warm!

Love you,

Mom

I dressed, and was just about to head out for the elevator when the phone rang.

Thinking it might be one of my parents checking in, I rushed back inside and snatched up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Good try, kid,” came Anje's hard voice. “You surprised me. You really did. Too bad those soldiers weren't real. But hey, one night left for the mission. I'm hyped. Hope you are. Now, I'm willing to make a deal with you. Whoever is alive in the morning gets to stay alive. How's that for a Christmas present? We got a deal?”

“I . . . guess,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

“May the best rat win. And don't forget, I think you're a rat, too.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hey, you didn't forget did you?”

“What?”

“Come on, dude. You swore you'd attack all rats in your vicinity, or pay the penalty.”

“I did?”

“Yeah. Merry Christmas,” he added. Then there was nothing but a dial tone.

Shook up, I put the phone down slowly and went back to my room. What was the guy saying? Was I the Christmas rat? It sure sounded like it.

I picked up the little flashlight. Glowing again. I stood there, I don't know for how long, trying to decide whether to take it with me or not. I mean, what if it really was his way of finding me?

In the end I decided I'd take it, but I made up my mind to leave it down there.

Out in the hallway I called up the elevator. When it reached my floor our old lady neighbor, Miss Cromwell, stepped out.

“Merry Christmas, Eric!” she said as she went by.

“Oh, yeah, Merry Christmas, Miss Cromwell,” I mumbled.

She went on down the hall.

“Miss Cromwell!” I called.

She stopped and turned. “Yes, Eric?”

“Ah . . . the other day, did any exterminator come to your place?”

Miss Cromwell thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, I don't think so. Did I miss him? They usually come in the spring. Do you need one?”

“No. Just asking,” I said.

“Oh. Bye now,” she said. “Have a lovely day tomorrow.”

“Bye . . .” I said, watching her go.

What is going on?
I asked myself, feeling totally creeped out. I mean, I was positive I'd seen Anje go to her place on Monday.
Positive.

But had I seen him go
in?
I tried to imagine that moment. No, I hadn't actually
seen
him do it. Was I imagining everything?

I looked at the glowing white flashlight in my hand. No way was this all in my head.

I turned back to the elevator, but I heard the phone ring in our apartment. I rushed inside.

“Hey, man, how you doing?” It was Pete. It was so good to hear his voice.

“Hey, you back?” I said, hopefully.

“Nope. Still down in warm, sunny Florida. Ma said you called. Said it's frozen up there.”

“Totally.”

“Hey, what's happening?”

I wanted to tell him about Anje. But I felt weird. I mean, there was something not right. Maybe I
was
imagining the whole thing. You know, a dream, the way they do sometimes in dumb movies and books.

“Nothing much,” I said to him.

“Well, I just wanted to say hi. Can't talk long. Be back on Monday. Let's hang out.”

“I'm . . . pretty sure I'm getting a radio-controlled car.”

“Cool! See ya.”

“See ya.”

I studied the phone for a moment. Then, wanting to prove something, I went out into the hallway. For a moment I just stood there, not sure what I was doing. I stared out the hall window looking for I don't know what. Finally I got on the elevator and, holding the door open, sniffed. No Anje smell. I went down. When I stepped into the basement all was calm, all was bright—lights on—just like in the Christmas hymn. I mean, other than the faint smell of burnt plastic, everything seemed pretty much the way it was supposed to be.

I went down along the corridors, passing the ash cans and the storage bays until I reached where the rat had been digging. Or what was left. Now it was capped with a bulging bubble of green plastic.

Kneeling, I poked at it with a finger. It was rock hard. Hey, no way was
that
my imagination. These things were happening. To me, anyway.

I thought about the rat. He had escaped, which was good. I did wonder where he'd gone. I mean, now I really wanted to protect him. Felt I had to, until Christmas morning, anyway.

BOOK: The Christmas Rat
2.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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