Chapter Twenty Eight
At the sound of the hawk’s screeching cry, Chello and Nevi shot into the hole in the vent pipe and disappeared, heading down to familiar levels of the building. Torus darted after them, not out of fear, but filled with sudden exhilaration. He half ran and half fell down the pipe, and burst out the hole at the bottom to crash laughing into his friends.
“What is going on?” demanded Nevi, who looked close to tears. “What happened up there?”
“I can see the air!” said Torus. “But not really.”
“Ooookaaaaay…” said Chello cautiously.
“I can feel it with my whiskers,” Torus continued, “and in my tail.” He stood up and closed his eyes, waving his hands gently. “Can you feel it?” he asked. “It’s everywhere.”
“Torus, what are you talking about?” said Nevi.
“I think if he feels wind in his tail we should just leave him alone,” said Chello.
Torus opened his eyes and looked at them intently.
“I have to go see Nile,” he said, and rushed off.
His startled friends scrambled to catch up, and by the time they came bursting into Mr. Nile’s den they were all out of breath. Torus stood inside the door panting heavily and looking around the room. Mr. Nile was out of bed and bustling about like normal, and a crowd of young rats was gathered around a bag of pretzels in the middle of the floor. Arkon was there, of course, and Flinka and Juke. Moki was making a careful stack of the snacks and Pryus was sitting between Davin and Vinda, looking very pleased with himself.
“Well, hello,” said Mr. Nile, looking up at them. “What brings you here so explosively?”
“I don’t know,” said Chello, panting and gesturing at Torus. “Ask Tailwind here.”
Torus caught his breath and stared at the bag of pretzels.
“I’m starving!” he said, and edged his way into the circle.
“Help yourself,” said Mr. Nile.
“Salty crunchy!” said Moki, happily tossing a pretzel over Torus’s head to Chello.
Torus suddenly felt incredibly hungry, and for a few minutes, all he could focus on was the satisfying crunch and salty tang of one bite after another, until, three or four pretzels later, he looked up to see the rest of the rats staring at him with their eyes wide.
“What is it?” he asked around a mouthful of salty crumbs.
“I just told them what happened up there,” said Nevi impatiently. “Weren’t you listening?”
“I was crunching,” he replied. “What did you say?”
“About the…you know…up on the…you know…” Nevi stopped, exasperated, and grabbed a pretzel for herself. “The flying thing!”
“Yeah!” said Torus, his eyes lighting up. “It was incredible!”
“How could you do that?” said Flinka. “Didn’t you…Panic?”
“No,” said Torus excitedly. “And neither did they!” He indicated Chello and Nevi. “I don’t know why. Maybe we’re getting used to it?” He looked to Mr. Nile with the question. “Or these cloaks and hats? Maybe?”
Mr. Nile looked thoughtful.
“Perhaps,” he said. “Perhaps you feel secure and covered up enough that you can control the instincts.”
“Anyway,” Torus interrupted, “it was amazing! Up in the air so high, you can see everything! There’s hundreds of buildings all around ours, and the park is huge!”
“It was horrible!” Nevi interjected. “We thought you were dead!”
“I knew it was okay,” Chello objected. “I knew he had it under control.”
“No you didn’t,” Nevi retorted. “You were running back and forth shaking that needle, ready to kill the hawk as soon as he landed!”
“Maybe,” Chello mumbled, looking at the floor, “maybe a little bit at first…”
“I think you’re all crazy,” said Flinka. “I wouldn’t ever go back up on that roof for anything. It’s bad enough having to go up and clean the attic while those pigeons are sleeping. I couldn’t stand the idea of that big bird coming at me again.” She shuddered and took a small bite of her pretzel.
“Are they still sending you up there?” asked Chello. “That stinks. I hate it that they moved in up there.” The other rats nodded in agreement. “We haven’t gotten any more access to the park like they promised, and they’re all getting fat while we starve to death.” He took a big mouthful of pretzel, enjoying his audience, and continued. “And to top it off, they make the cleaning crew go up there and…clean it, I guess.” He stopped and considered. “It must be full of pigeon scat, huh? Gross!” He looked over at Flinka. “How do you stand it?” he asked.
She returned his gaze and her eyes narrowed.
“What did you think we did?” she asked coolly. “What exactly do you think we clean up? As the cleaning crew?”
He stammered, and swallowed his mouthful, looking puzzled.
“Rats aren’t exactly…fastidious, if you know what I mean,” she continued. “How long do you think we would last in this building if everything we…left behind…was there for the humans to find?”
Chello blinked, slowly realizing what she was talking about.
“We can’t all patrol and scout around and make sure everyone fills their forage quotas,” she said, stepping toward him. “Someone has to clean up after everyone else and keep the clan safe.” She stopped in front of him and stared him down nose to nose. “What did that hawk say? ‘Rats and pigeons are the same to me?’ Well, from my side they look pretty much the same, too. Pigeon piles or rat piles…what’s the difference?”
“Hey,” said Chello, a little desparately. “Hey, hey, hey…I didn’t mean…I mean, I didn’t know…”
Flinka turned and walked off to the side of the room.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Go patrol something.”
“Hey,” said Chello again, now angry. “It’s not my fault!” Nevi looked at him reproachfully and he turned to her. “It’s not! Did I let the pigbirds move in? Did I tell them they could have the whole park to themselves?” He stood up, gripping his weapon.
“The leaders did it to us! The advisors, and that nutty old Chief, they let the pigeons come in and mess things up. That’s what we have to take care of.” He paused, and looked around at the others. “It can’t be about who does what job, or who lives on what floor. It has to be about getting them out of here and getting them away from the dumpster again. Look at what they’re doing to us! They’re killing us!”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Torus interjected. “I can see the air!”
“You’ve lost your mind,” said Chello.
“No, no, listen, listen, listen,” said Torus urgently. “A flying thing! I can build one now! I can work with the air, I know I can.” He stood up and started pacing. “I had it all wrong before, with the flapping and the cardboard and stuff. It’s just about sailing on top of the air, letting the air do the work. Here, look…”
He snatched a scrap of paper from Mr. Nile’s stash and quickly folded a crease down the middle and then flattened it out into a shallow v-shape. He tossed it gently and it half glided and half fluttered across the room.
“Like that, kind of,” he said. The others looked at him uncertainly.
“I know I can do it this time,” he said intently. “I have to build it like the hawk instead of like a pigeon. And build it out of the right stuff. There’s a human thing down in the alley. I saw one of them throw it away. A bumbler, or something like that.” He looked at Nevi. “Remember? It caught the wind great! It almost blew the human over, and then it broke and the human threw it away.”
Nevi’s eyes lit up.
“Oh, the umbrella!” she said.
“Yeah, the bumbler,” Torus rushed ahead. “I have to get it! I know it’ll work!”
“Okay, then what,” said Chello. “You make a flyer and what? We try the sam
e thing again at the dumpster?”
“No, a bunch of them!” said Torus. “A whole flock of flying rats! And cloaks and hats for the rats on the ground so they can’t see you and you don’t panic!”
“A ‘flock’ of rats?” Flinka said incredulously. “You’re insane!”
“No, Torus is right,” said Juke. He didn’t say anything else, but as the silence grew he stammered and started again.
“When I’m on Patrol, I go out the tunnel under the street and count the birds at the dumpster. There’s more every time.” He turned to Flinka. “How many are in the attic now?”
“More every week,” she said, miserably.
“They’ll drive us out,” he continued. “Or the humans will find them. They’re not careful like we are. The humans will gas the building to get rid of them.”
“We can do it,” said Torus. “Even if there are a hundred of them. They don’t think like we do. When they’re in a flock they all think the same. Have you ever watched them? They all do the same thing at the same time, like they all have the same ideas and the same feelings. That’s how we can beat them.”
He looked around at the others’ quiet faces.
“Even if it’s just a few of us…we’ll sneak in under our cloaks and then at the right moment we jump up and rush them. Then when they fly up to try and Panic us, the rest of us will fly down on top of them from the tree and panic them! You should have seen the way they scattered when the hawk dived at them tonight. They couldn’t get away fast enough!”
“Why?” asked Davin. “Why will that work?”
“Pigeons follow the group,” offered Mr. Nile. “When a few of the flock react to something, the rest of the flock reacts to them.”
“Exactly!” said Torus. “If we can scare away just a couple of them, the rest will follow without even knowing exactly why.”
Pryus spoke up for the first time, looking intrigued.
“And with the cloaks and the flying things, they won’t even realize it’s rats at first. They’ll think the garbage in the dumpster is attacking them!” He laughed aloud at the idea. “I’m in!” he said. “Where’s my cloak?”
Not all the rest were so enthusiastic, and Flinka was clearly quite doubtful, but after some discussion the rest of the group agreed that the time was right for another attempt at raiding the dumpster.
“But everyone...” Chello paused and looked each rat squarely in the eye. “Everyone needs to keep it quiet this time. If anyone gives us away this time they’ll have to deal with me.”
“And one more thing,” he said, turning to Torus. “If you break your leg again you won’t get off so easy this time. I’ll drag you up the tree and throw you at the pigbirds myself!”
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