When You Wish upon a Rat

by Maureen McCarthy

  “What about if your house is smashed to bits by a cyclone?” she said stiffly. “A friend won’t put it back together for you.”

  “A true friend will stick out the bad times with you,” Rodney declared pompously, “and that is an enormous help.”

  “If your parents both die horribly in a car accident, then—”

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake!” Rodney snapped. “Could we please at least stick to the case in hand? Are you telling me that everything apart from your friend was bad about that place?”

  “Not exactly,” Ruth said in a small voice. “Sister Winifred was kind of interesting—a good teacher, anyway. I think I would have gotten to like her if I’d stayed. And I suppose I did like the fact that there wasn’t chatter all the time. I liked the silent times. And I liked the singing. I was looking forward to learning the words. I would have liked to join in the singing every morning.”

  “See!” the rat said triumphantly.

  “But some of it was terrible!”

  “Welcome to the real world!” Rodney said. Ruth frowned and wondered all over again why she’d been so keen to find him.

  “But it’s not the real world, is it?”

  “Well, no.” Rodney gave one of his dry chuckles and they both started laughing at the same time. “Not exactly the real world. No.”

  “Okay.” Ruth felt a little easier after the laugh. “I’m willing to have another go if you make things better for Bridie.”

  “Done!”

  “Do you promise?”

  “I promise.” Rodney was shifting from one foot to the other. “So let’s get going quickly, because I’m due back for the races.”

  “What?” Ruth’s mouth fell open.

  “I’ve got a lot riding on a little guy called Pick-Me-Up. He’s—”

  “Is Pick-Me-Up a … rat?” Ruth was trying to imagine a race meeting of rats. Would they have callers and racetracks and judges and ribbons for the winner?

  “Well, of course he’s a rat!” Rodney waved the question away irritably. “So annoying, the way humans think they are the only ones who do anything interesting!”

  “Okay, okay.” Ruth sighed. “Let’s keep our minds on the job.”

  An hour later they were still discussing Ruth’s options. It was her last chance; she didn’t want to get it wrong.

  “You’re smart,” the rat was saying. “Maybe we could try and get you into the NASA space program.”

  “I’m only eleven,” Ruth reminded him.

  “Wouldn’t you like to be the first kid in space?”

  Ruth thought for a while. “Not that much,” she said. “I’ve always thought it would be kind of boring being up there and having to eat out of tubes and … how would you go to the toilet?”

  “There are plastic bags inside your bodysuit.”

  “Yuck! And it would be so hard to get back if I hated it.”

  “True, but not … impossible.”

  “Not space,” Ruth said decisively. “Thanks all the same.”

  “Well, what about being part of an exploration team? Deep in the heart of Africa?”

  “Now you’re talking!” Ruth was delighted. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

  “Going to places that no one has seen before,” Rodney said enthusiastically. “There are still places like that on the planet, you know, Ruth.”

  “Hmmm.” Ruth tried to imagine what it would be like. She was excited by the idea until a mental image came to her out of the blue. There she was in the intense heat, trudging along behind a group of adults. She was thirsty, her feet were sore, and they were about to walk through crocodile-infested waters. “Actually, Rodney, I don’t think so. I don’t like really hot weather, and what about those weird insects that give you exotic diseases? I haven’t been inoculated. What if I got really sick? I might die.”

  “Well, you’re going to have to think of something!” the rat snapped. “I told you before, I don’t have all day.” He flung what was left of his apple core into the river.

  Ruth noticed that his stomach was as enormous as a duck egg. He was shifting about trying to get comfortable and she wanted to ask him if all rats were greedy or if it was just him.

  “You’re going to have to make a decision soon. What would you really like?”

  Ruth closed her eyes and tried to think.

  “Remember, this isn’t only about you.”

  Ruth opened her eyes. “How do you mean?”

  “My career is going off the rails.” The rat sniffed.

  “Really?”

  Rodney gave a deep sigh. “I’ve simply got to get this one right or I’m … custard.”

  “Okay.” Ruth closed her eyes again. The pressure was on now.

  “Have you got a secret desire?” he said slyly. “Right at the bottom of your heart?”

  Still with her eyes closed, Ruth threw away her core and lay back on the grass. “Well, I suppose I do,” she said after a while, beginning to blush furiously. If only it were something more interesting! But there was nothing for it. This was her last chance at the life she’d really like, so she’d better come clean.

  “So what is it?” Rodney was looking at her intently.

  “I want to be somebody.” Ruth’s face was bright red.

  “Somebody?” the rat repeated, frowning.

  “I want to stand out from the crowd.”

  “Oh.” Rodney’s mouth twitched. “I see. Have you got a field in mind? Where you’d like to excel?”

  “Not really,” she mumbled.

  “Sports?”

  “No!” She shook her head. “Definitely not.”

  “Music?”

  “No.”

  “What about performing, then? Acting, theater, or the circus?”

  “No way!” Ruth exclaimed. “Marcus is good at sports and music, and my little brother is a born actor. He’ll end up a performer of some sort, for sure. I want my own thing that I’m really good at.”

  “Hmmm.” The rat shook his head. “So … what are you good at?”

  “I don’t know,” Ruth said glumly. “Not much except spelling and liberal arts, math and geography and history.” She sighed. “You can’t really be somebody with any of that, can you?”

  “Well, that remains to be seen,” the rat muttered. “Just give me a few minutes, will you?”

  Ruth watched him walk down toward the river, both paws behind his back, head lowered; he was frowning and obviously thinking hard.

  She doubted he’d be able to do anything good with what she wanted, but with a bit of luck it wouldn’t be quite as bad as the other two wishes. Remember, she told herself sternly, this is all about getting Bridie out of a very big hole.

  “What sort of family do you want this time?” Rodney called.

  “My old one will do,” Ruth said.

  “Really?” Rodney stared at her in surprise.

  Ruth thought of the dead eyes of her mum and dad in the perfect version and nodded.

  “What about the laptop and the swimming pool?” the rat asked, genuinely incredulous.

  Ruth sighed. “I suppose there’s no chance of having the old family with the good house, laptop, and swimming pool … and without the friends?”

  She knew she was pushing things, but it might be worth a try.

  “I don’t do mix and match,” the rat said crossly. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes! How many times do I have to say it?”

  “Okay. So the old family”—the rat shook his head—“in the old house with all the mess and … and the rest of it?”

  “Yes.” Ruth sighed.

  “Well, well, there is no accounting for—”

  “Just shut up, okay?”

  “Very well.”

  “By the way, have you got any paper and a pencil? I want to write Howard a note.”

  “A note?” Rodney was suspicious.

  “I want to tell him to go back on his own if I’m away too long.”

  Rodney produced a blank page from his t
rouser pocket and then a pencil from his boot.

  Ruth wrote a quick note to Howard and put it under a rock near where he’d been lying asleep. She didn’t want him to wait for her and get into more trouble than he needed to with his father.

  “I think I might have something,” Rodney said after a few moments of silent thought.

  “Really?” Ruth was excited, until she remembered how wrong things could get. “Is it possible for you to run through some details with me first?”

  “No, it isn’t!” Rodney said angrily. “That isn’t how this works!”

  “Okay! Keep your shirt on. I didn’t mean to insult you.”

  “My work involves very sophisticated skills.”

  “I’m sure it does,” Ruth muttered apologetically. “I didn’t mean to imply …”

  “Believe me, I want this one to work just as much as you do. You’re going to have to trust me.”

  wins this round of Brain Box will be Victorian state champion and will go on to compete in the national final next week.”

  There was a loud rolling drumbeat followed by a bouncy guitar riff.

  “Please give our two contestants a hand!”

  Enthusiastic clapping and catcalling, along with a few whistles, drowned out the music.

  Ruth blinked as her eyes adjusted. There was a sea of strange faces in front of her. She looked around and felt herself go a little woozy.

  She was sitting in a kind of booth, and the lights were so bright she could hardly see. A man in a snappy suit with silver hair and his face covered in makeup was standing about a meter away from her; on the other side of him sat a boy roughly her age dressed in a white shirt and tie. The boy’s hair was combed up into spikes. Her own long hair had been set into tight curls that fell to her shoulders and were stiff with lacquer. It felt a little like having an animal on her head. What was she doing in front of all these people? Where on earth was she?

  She looked up. Huge lights were beaming down from the ceiling. A couple of enormous black swivel cameras pointed at the three of them on the stage. She must be in a television studio! Ruth was overcome with an intense desire to get up and run. A shy person wanting to be somebody! And that idiot rat thought she meant in the actual spotlight and famous—that wasn’t what she’d meant at all. What could she have been thinking to trust him again?

  “So in case you’ve just joined us at home”—the man with the silver hair was looking directly into the camera with a wide, oily smile—“we have Leon and Ruth, and they are slogging it out to make it to our final!” He turned to them. “Tell me, are you guys ready?”

  “Yes, sir!” Leon said with a confident grin, and the audience clapped wildly.

  “And Ruth?”

  “Yes … sir,” Ruth said nervously.

  The applause for her was more subdued.

  “Okay, this is the big one!” the man said.

  The drumbeat rolled again and the audience went quiet.

  “First on the buzzer gets the chance to answer.”

  Ruth looked down at the button in front of her. As though on autopilot, she positioned her hand above it.

  “In what year did man first walk on the moon?”

  He had to be kidding. That was way too easy. But maybe it was a trick question? The boy was frowning, probably trying to work out the same thing. Ruth decided to go with what she knew. If it was a trick question, then she might as well get it over with. She pressed the buzzer and the man invited her to answer.

  “1969,” she said, then added, “Sir.”

  “And you are absolutely right!” the man shouted, and the crowd went wild. “Go, Ruth! Go!”

  In spite of her nerves Ruth felt a buzz of excitement. If the questions were all this easy, she might actually win!

  “Spell accommodation,” was the next question. Of course Ruth knew how to spell that, but the boy beat her to the buzzer. Annoyed with herself for being slow, Ruth decided to really concentrate. The drumbeat started rolling again. This must be it. She tensed up in anticipation. She wouldn’t let him beat her again!

  “Who was the first Queen Elizabeth’s father?” the man asked.

  There was a hushed silence, but not for long. Ruth pushed her buzzer, just beating Leon.

  “Henry VIII,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “And Ruth is absolutely correct. Henry VIII was Queen Elizabeth’s father. Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner! Will you all please go ballistic for Ruth Craze!”

  The applause began and built quickly to a crescendo. It flooded Ruth’s ears and swirled around her head like a barrage of thunderclaps.

  The man came over, took her hand, and pulled her up out of her seat. “The winner, ladies and gentlemen: Ruth Craze! Take a bow, Ruth!”

  Ruth stood holding hands with the man in front of the huge crowd, thinking that just maybe Rodney had gotten it right.

  “Here is your check for … ten thousand dollars!”

  More drums, and two pretty blond women brought out an enormous signed check.

  Ten thousand dollars! To think it was now actually hers! She was … a winner.

  “And that’s our show, ladies and gentlemen! Don’t forget to tune in next week, when Ruth will be competing against all the other state finalists … when we’ll find out who the national Brain Box champion is! Good luck, Ruth!” the man yelled. “We’re all behind you.”

  “Good luck, Ruth!” the crowd echoed as the show closed. “Good luck!”

  The lights went down and the cameras backed away and everyone relaxed. About to step off the stage, Ruth was intercepted by hugs and whoops of congratulation from members of the crew.

  “Fantastic, girl!”

  “Good for you, Ruth!”

  Ruth noticed that her opponent was sitting in his booth all alone, looking very disappointed. She pushed through the throng of people surrounding her and walked over to him.

  “Thanks, Leon,” she said awkwardly, not knowing what else to say, only that she wanted to make him feel better.

  “Congratulations,” he said, holding out his hand, “you did real good, Ruth.”

  “But so did you,” Ruth said quickly. “That last one was a bit of a fluke for me.” This was actually a small lie; she loved reading about the kings and queens of England. “It was just luck, you know.”

  “Tell that to my parents,” he said, pointing to a couple standing near the door away from everyone else. A big sour-looking man was dressed in a fawn business suit. Next to him stood a very heavily made-up woman dressed in a white linen suit with lots of gold jewelry around her wrists and neck. They both looked very glum.

  “They’re going to be so mad.” Leon sighed.

  “What will they say?”

  “They’ll say I didn’t put enough work in.”

  “But that’s crazy,” Ruth protested. “I mean, you were within one point of winning!”

  “I know…” He shrugged unhappily. “But my brother wins everything.”

  Ruth took another look at the couple. She would have liked to go up and tell them that it was terrible to expect so much of their kid, but of course she didn’t.

  “They your parents?” Leon asked as he stood up. She looked over to where her mum and dad, Marcus, and Paul were sitting in the front row smiling proudly.

  “Yeah,” she murmured. Her mum was waving now, in full view of everyone. Ruth gave a small wave and then turned away. Her mother had on a bright pink knitted dress that didn’t really suit her figure at all.

  “They look nice.”

  “Thanks,” Ruth said humbly. Well, at least they’d never give her a hard time for not winning something like this. She shook Leon’s hand again and was about to run down the stairs to greet her family when the silver-haired game show host stopped her. He wasn’t quite so enthusiastic or friendly now that the lights were down.

  “See you next week,” he said. “Make sure you get here a good hour before we’re due on.”

  “Okay,” Ruth said. “What happens now?” />
  “Cindy will look after you,” he said with a tight smile.

  By the time Ruth got to her parents and brothers they were surrounded by a group of people who were slapping them on the back and congratulating them.

  “Amazing girl you have there,” someone was saying warmly.

  “You must all be so proud.”

  “Well, yes, we are,” her father’s voice boomed. “Ruth’s always been a bit of a standout. She could read at four.”

  Ruth pushed through the crowd and elbowed him in the ribs.

  But her father was on a roll. “Of course, she was in the accelerated program at school.”

  “Dad!”

  “Oh, here she is!” Her mother turned around and opened her arms. “Good for you, Ruthie!”

  “Thanks, Mum.”

  “How did you know that last one, Ruth?” Marcus asked quietly, his voice full of awe. “I wouldn’t have had a clue about Queen Elizabeth’s father.”

  “If you win next week, you get a trip for two to America!” Paul said excitedly. “Have you thought about who you’re going to ask?” He was looking at her with such longing that it made everyone laugh.

  “I probably won’t win,” Ruth said.

  “Of course you’ll win.” Her mother was smiling proudly. “I just know it.”

  Try as she might, Ruth couldn’t help feeling a glow of pleasure when she saw that her whole family was so proud.

  “Bye, Ruth,” Leon called as he made his way out of the studio between his disgruntled parents. “Good luck for next week.”

  “Thanks, Leon.”

  • • •

  “Excuse me, Ruth.” A glamorous-looking, orange-haired woman in her twenties, dressed in a tight red suit and extremely high heels, interrupted them. “I’m Cindy from the network, and I’ll be looking after you for the rest of the week.”

  “Oh, hello,” Ruth said shyly. The woman was so perfectly made up that she looked like a doll. “This is my mum and dad and my brothers.”

  Cindy nodded curtly and handed Mr. Craze a printout without really looking at him. “Here’s a copy of Ruth’s itinerary for the rest of the day. As you will see, we’ve booked her into the Hilton Hotel for three nights, assuming that’s okay with you?”

  “The Hilton!” Mr. and Mrs. Craze chorused.