Chapter Twenty Six
A few weeks later, on a rest day in the late afternoon, Torus was wandering around the tunnels near his home, waiting for nightfall so he could slip surreptitiously into the humans’ kitchens looking for something to eat. He had gotten into the habit of carrying around the knife he had found in the human artist’s home, and he used it now from time to time to poke into crevices along the floor. He was in one of the main tunnels that led to the stockpile, and he held a small hope that he might come across a crumb or a morsel of something that had fallen from the sledges in the past.
He was used to being hungry. After all, hunger was part of a rat’s life. But over the past month the character of his hunger had changed. He felt dull all over, in his mind and in his limbs. He could never rush what he was doing, but could only plod along mechanically, doing only what was absolutely necessary and no more. If there was some sudden danger, he managed to scamper to safety, but afterward he felt drained, and had to rest much longer than normal to recover.
If he had taken the time to notice, he would have seen that the rest of the clan was in the same state. Like Torus, they had slowed to a crawl, trudging with their heads down through the business of staying alive, eating whatever they found as soon as they found it, and sleeping as much as their hunger and the cold drafts would let them. Any wakeful time that wasn’t otherwise filled was taken up with the random, meticulous search for food in any corner of the building that was convenient. It had become the chief activity for the clan, as it had for Torus, and he was busy at it when Nevi found him, quietly focused on prying a grain of dried rice from the crack where the floor met the wall in the tunnel.
“Hey, you,” she said, coming up to him.
He looked up briefly and said, “Hi,” before returning his attention to his task. Nevi was wearing her cloak, but even covered up, he could tell she was too thin, and that her dark fur was dull. The grain of rice was stubborn, and he paused for a moment to consider it.
“How’s the scouting?” he asked.
Nevi shrugged.
“Not much going on anymore,” she said. “Whenever I show up for an assignment they just tell me that there is nothing threatening the Clan at this time and that I should go home to my family.”
Torus returned to digging at the grain of rice, but it refused to be worked loose. Finally he lost patience and stabbed his knife into the wooden floor, where it stuck with its long handle swaying back and forth.
“Hey,” said Nevi. “Forget this. Let’s go to the alley. I want to see the sky.”
Torus shook his head and gave his knife another push to continue swaying.
“Too cold,” he said.
“So grab your cloak,” she said. “We’re close to your place, just run over and get it.”
Torus shrugged and pulled his knife out with a jerk.
“Okay,” he said. “There’s nothing to find here, anyway…”
At home everyone was sleeping, so he picked up his cloak and carried out into the tunnel quietly to put it on. It was a dark patterned cloth like Nevi’s. Nevi and her mother had shown him how to work with the cloth by unraveling the edges and tying the loose threads together to connect the pieces. He had struggled a little with it, since the cloth was so much more floppy than the cardboard and wire he was used to working with, but once he figured it out he found it quite pleasant.
He stood in the tunnel and put on the cloak and hood. He still felt a little awkward in it, but it was definitely warmer.
“It’s nice, right?” said Nevi. “Cozy?”
“Yeah,” said Torus. “Cozy’s a good word for it. It feels sort of like being in bed, even though you’re walking around.”
Once they got to the alley, Torus proceeded carefully, out of habit, even though it had been weeks since they had seen the dog, and even longer since Sandwich Man had been there. They crept into the lookout hole and looked out into the alley. It was a windy day, and although the space between the buildings was somewhat sheltered, strong breezes blew through the space and pieces of trash swirled around in the air.
“Come on,” said Nevi. “Let’s go out there.”
“What for?” asked Torus. “We can see everything from here, can’t we?”
“Come on,” she repeated, and slipped out the hole and down to the ground. She started walking out into the middle of the alley and climbed on top of a collapsed pile of newspapers. She looked back at Torus and smiled. He scowled and gripped his knife and followed her, joining her on her perch.
“This makes me nervous,” he said. “We’re too exposed.”
“It’s great!” said Nevi, excitedly. There was a light in her eyes that Torus hadn’t noticed before. She gestured out the mouth of the alley where they could just see the trees of the park whipping in the wind. “The world is so big!”
“Too big,” said Torus. “It’s the middle of the day. What if – ” At that moment, a large human walked past the mouth of the alley, clutching its coat around it and leaning into the wind. Torus stopped mid-sentence and froze until it had passed.
“What if humans see us?” he demanded after it had gone.
“They can’t see us,” said Nevi, delightedly. “We’re just a couple of rags on top of a pile of paper.” She giggled and looked up at the bright strip of sky between the buildings. “We’re invisible!”
“If you say so,” said Torus. Another human passed them and he gripped his knife and hunched down as low as possible.
“Relax,” said Nevi, calmly. “Look at the sky.”
“What about it?” said Torus, looking up. “It’s too big, too.”
“It’s beautiful,” said Nevi, dreamily. “Always changing, always open…”
Torus squinted and tried to see what she saw, but all he saw was a whitish early spring sky with a few gray clouds being ripped to shreds by the wind. They sat in silence for a little while, as more humans passed without seeing them, and as the sky grew more darkly cloudy. The wind began to have a cold edge, and a few fat drops of rain started to fall.
Torus became more comfortable with the idea of humans nearby, and began watching them as they passed. They were in all shapes and sizes and covered with all different kinds of cloth and leather and plastic. For the first time he thought he could sense what some of them were feeling by looking at their faces and the way they moved their bodies as they walked. Mostly they were uncomfortable in the wind and cold, some seemed very sad, and others were angry. But none of them seemed happy.
The wind whipped up harder than ever, and a short, stocky human in dark clothing staggered against it and stepped into the mouth of the alley, carrying an umbrella against the spattering rain. The wind whipped up under the umbrella and blew it inside out so it looked like a black wreck at the end of a long stick in the human’s hand. The human made some sounds that were clearly expressions of rage and despair and it threw the ruined umbrella into a metal trash can at the mouth of the alley before it hunched down and continued off into the cold.
Torus noticed the cold himself and pulled the cloak around him more snugly. He was suddenly aware of the comfortable warmth of Nevi sitting next to him, and that her elbow was touching his. He shifted awkwardly and was looking for something to say when she spoke quietly, still gazing up at the sky.
“Chello got promoted to squad leader,” she said.
“I know,” said Torus. He was relieved to be talking, but somehow irritated at the subject matter. “He’s really good at Patrol.”
“He’s almost too good,” she said. “I’m worried he might…”
“Might what?” said Torus. “Might take over?”
“Well, yeah,” said Nevi. “I mean, look at Dumash.”
“What?”
“Dumash was a friend of my parents, before my dad left,” she said. “He was okay then, my mom says. Then he gets on Patrol and becomes Dumpish.”
“So you’re worrie
d Chello will become, what, Chubbo?”
“No,” she laughed and hit him in the arm. “I just don’t want him to become one of them.” She paused and looked out at the street thoughtfully. “I like him better as one of us.”
Torus nodded, but didn’t say anything. The rain was still threatening, and the clouds were growing still darker. There was a sudden flash and a crash of thunder. At the sound, a flock of pigeons clattered up out of tree in the park and spun up wheeling and flapping into the air over the alley.
Torus was irritated with them for flying so easily, even in the swirling wind. They wheeled up and up and up, above the tops of the buildings, flying in a big, irregular circle, clattering their wings and screaming in their strange language. Then, even higher up, Chello saw a tiny black shape in the sky, steady and motionless, hanging in the air seemingly without effort or movement.
He realized it was the hawk, soaring in the wind with its wings outstretched. It was gliding effortlessly in a slow circle high above them all, seemingly riding the wind as easily as rats ran across the ground.
Then, without any warning, it folded its wings and fell straight down toward the circling pigeons. They screamed and scattered, flying desperately toward the top windows of the building.
The speed of the hawk was remarkable. In no time he had sliced through the air and reached the birds. Torus could see he kept the tips of his wings out and was steering toward a pigeon that had gotten separated from the rest. The pigeon panicked and flew crazily toward the building as the hawk closed in. Whether from a chance gust of wind, or a lucky turn by the pigeon, the hawk missed his mark, and the pigeon fluttered into the broken attic window. Still without flapping, the hawk opened his wings and pulled out of his dive, shooting down along the alley, and then out, across the street and into the air over the trees of the park.
Forgetting about the humans on the sidewalk, Torus ran to the mouth of the alley to watch him. The hawk glided in a huge arc and passed over the dumpster, which Torus could just see in the distance. Pigeons squawked and fluttered around it, and scattered as the hawk passed, gliding silently and terrifyingly through the air above them. Then, without another flap, the hawk swooped back over the street and up to his roost at the top of the building.
Torus sat staring after him, with his eyes narrowed.
Nevi looked at him with a questioning look on her face.
“What is it,” she asked. She was answered by another flash of lightening and a roar of thunder. The rain began in earnest, and she tugged at the edge of Torus’s cloak.
“Hey,” she said. “What’s going on?”
He sat up suddenly, gripping his knife and heading back toward the hole in the alley wall.
“Come on,” he said shortly. “I’ve got to go do something.”
* * *