“Pack rat,” I correct. I taught him that recently, after I heard a human say it on the platform. The platform is the best place to collect new words and sayings.
“Pack rat,” Oggie repeats. He curls his tail happily. “Raffie’s a great teacher,” he informs my family.
“So we’ve heard.” Lulu rolls her eyes. She must have gotten glitter in them again. Lulu likes glitter almost as much as Oggie and I like pizza.
My eyes wander over to the clock. When the toothpick hits lint, Pizza Girl will arrive at the station. She has perfect timing: she gives me just enough time to forage her pizza before rush hour, when we go to bed. Mom and Dad like us to sleep while the station is busiest so we can spend the nighttime hours foraging.
“Ooh, look at this.” Lulu dangles something gold and glittery in front of my snout.
“Shiny!” Oggie says.
“It’s a yearing, right?” Lulu asks.
“An earring,” my dad corrects.
“A dangle earring, to be precise,” my mom adds.
My parents know the human names and uses of almost every item. I guess that’s what happens when you’re older than the hardened wad of gum stuck to the MetroCard machine.
“Dangle earrings are very important,” my dad explains. “Humans store them in tiny holes in their ears so they always have a small sword at the ready.”
“Wow,” Lulu breathes. “Maybe I should wear one—”
“Don’t even think about it,” my mom warns. “There will be no holes in any ears in this household.”
Lulu huffs as she throws the earring into the metal pile. “Here,” my mom says. She grabs a shiny sheet of paper off the pile I sorted. “Wear one of these instead.” She peels a small white square off the paper. It says I ♥ NY on it. “It’s called a sticker. Humans use them to repair things like notebooks and bags.”
Lulu takes the sticker and presses it to Oggie’s ear. “Hey!” Oggie cries. “My ear’s not broken!” He tries to paw the sticker off, but it’s stuck to his fur.
“Hmm.” Lulu circles Oggie, studying his ear. Today she’s wearing a yellow zipper around her stomach, a white bottle cap on her head, and a glittery pink shoelace knotted up her tail. “It does make Oggie look quite suave…” She takes the sheet of stickers from my mom and tosses it into her personal accessories pile. “Thanks!”
“I don’t look like a squab,” Oggie says angrily. He frantically paws at his ear, but the sticker isn’t going anywhere.
“Lulu’s right,” I tell Oggie. “It suits you. It makes you look … unstoppable.”
Oggie’s head snaps up. “Unstoppable? Like you?” I nod, and Oggie bounces excitedly on his paws. “Oggie the Unstoppable!”
Lulu giggles into her paws. “Aren’t you getting a little old for those ridiculous stories, Raffie?”
“They’re not just stories,” Oggie informs her. “Raffie is a hero!”
I straighten up onto my hind legs and puff out my chest. “That’s right,” I say. Lulu is still giggling when the clock strikes lint. “I’m going to the kitchen,” I announce. “Raffie the Unstoppable needs a snack.”
“Bring me an apple core from the cupboard,” Lulu says.
“Just the cupboard!” my mom calls after me. “Remember your punishment—”
“No foraging alone,” I call back. “I know, I know!”
I head toward the kitchen, but as soon as I’m sure no one’s followed me, I make a sharp turn toward the spying hole. I climb onto my espresso cup stool and peer out into the station.
It only takes me a second to spot her.
Pizza Girl.
As usual, she’s walking across the platform carrying a slice of pizza. The smell drifts toward me, sweet and tangy, oozing deliciousness. My snout waters.
“Is there pizza?” At the sound of Oggie’s voice, I pull back from the spying hole. Oggie blinks his big, round eyes up at me. The I ♥ NY sticker flashes on his ear.
“Pizza Girl brought a slice,” I tell him.
Oggie’s whiskers twitch in excitement. “Can I look?”
I scoot over and Oggie climbs onto the stool. His snout presses against mine as we peer out at the pizza. “Looks scrumptious,” I say.
“Scrumpy,” Oggie agrees. He turns to me. “Go get it, Raffie! Please please please?”
I sigh. “You heard Mom. I’m not allowed to forage alone. Besides, what would I do? Just grab it right out of her hands?”
“Yeah!” Oggie nudges me with his snout. “She’s not the thief! She looks nice! She never eats it anyway.”
I imagine walking up to Pizza Girl and snatching the slice away from her. There would be battle cries. Battle dances. Or worse. I shudder. “No way,” I tell Oggie. “A human is a human. And humans can never be trusted.”
I watch as Pizza Girl walks over to the treasure chest and tosses the slice. It lands on the edge, the crust dangling off the rim. “Perfect,” I say. “It’s right on the edge. It will be easy to get when I forage with Dad later.”
“Promise?” Oggie begs. “Because I have an idea! We can let it age at home, and it can be my birthday present!”
Oggie’s birthday is in three days, but he’s been talking about it for weeks. “Sure,” I say.
“Yeah yeah yeah!” Oggie cheers. “Pizza to go with my story!”
Every year for Oggie’s birthday, I make up a special Raffie the Unstoppable story just for him. I already have this year’s all made up. “Pizza and a story,” I agree with a laugh.
A train roars into the station and opens its doors. Two boys climb off. One’s carrying a ball. “Go long,” he shouts. He throws the ball. It zooms through the air, across the platform.
His friend runs to get it. “They’re playing Tail Ball?” Oggie asks. Tail Ball is a game I invented when our station was closed for construction and we were stuck behind the wall for a week straight. I gnawed a pom-pom off a wool hat and taught Oggie to use his tail to whip it into a soda can. Oggie and I are undefeated in Tail Ball. We beat Lulu, Mom, and Dad every time, even though it’s three against two.
“Something like that…” I trail off. “Uh-oh,” I whisper.
The ball whizzes past the friend—and crashes right into the treasure chest.
The pizza teeters.
It totters.
It slides over the edge of the treasure chest and tumbles to the floor.
“My birthday pizza!” Oggie cries. “We need to get it before something happens to it!”
I look around. The platform is clearing out. A final, lingering man disappears up the stairs. There’s not a human in sight. Still, I hesitate. I’m in major trouble after yesterday’s run-in with the thief.
“Raffie the Unstoppable will save my pizza,” Oggie says. “Right?”
I picture Ace: cheese from the pizza dripping down his snout. You can have my scraps, Mouse.
My fur bristles. I stand up tall. “Right,” I declare. “You know what I always say when it comes to pizza…”
“Never give up!” Oggie cheers.
“Never give up,” I repeat. I take a deep breath and squeeze through the spying hole. I’m halfway through when I hear a cough from behind.
I halt.
I know that cough.
“Raffie Lipton! Where do you think you’re going?”
I yank myself out of the hole to find my mom glaring down at me.
“I … um … there were no apple cores in the cupboard, so I was just going to, um, forage one for Lulu,” I say.
“Even though we explicitly told you not to?” my mom explodes. “I can’t believe you, Raffie! If the thief spots you again, you know what could happen!”
“The E word, I know. But the platform’s empty—”
“Yes, the E word!” my mom interrupts. “With his traps and poison and—I can’t even think about it.” Her whiskers quiver. “That’s it. I’m sending you to bed early tonight. And you too, Oggie.” My mom shakes her head. “Think what kind of example you’re setting for your little
brother, Raffie.”
Oggie looks up at me as we file to our bedroom. His eyes are wide with worry. “What about my birthday pizza?”
I flinch at the thought of losing yet another slice of pizza for Oggie. “Don’t worry,” I whisper. “I’ll just have to sneak out when Mom isn’t looking.”
“Never give up,” Oggie whispers back.
I give Oggie a quick nuzzle. “Never give up,” I agree.
“To bed, both of you!” our mom says.
CHAPTER
4
A Sitting Duck
A feast has been abandoned on the other side of the tracks. There are rotten fish heads and moldy sandwiches and half-eaten burritos and pools of chocolate and—yes! Two whole slices of untouched, perfectly aged pizza.
And I’m going to get them.
“You wish, Mouse.” Ace appears next to me. He’s grown since the last time I saw him, and he towers over me, quadruple my size. “May the best rat eat,” he leers.
There’s no time to scurry across the tracks if I want to beat Ace. I have to jump.
Ace and I take the leap at the same time. I soar into the air. I’m light as a feather! I’m buoyant as a balloon! I’m—
Creeeeak.
I wake with a start. Adrenaline is pumping through my veins, and it takes me a second to realize that I’m in my shoe box, tucked comfortably beneath my double-ply tissue.
I yawn. It’s evening rush hour. Trains are rushing through the station, one after another, making the floor shake soothingly. Faint voices and footsteps float in the distance, the usual lullaby of rush hour, and I feel my eyes drifting shut again.
Creeeeak.
My eyes pop back open. There’s that noise again.
I shake off my tissue and sit up. It hits me suddenly that I was supposed to sneak out to forage the slice of pizza for Oggie’s birthday present. I must have fallen asleep before I could. I yawn. A thin beam of light streams in from the station, casting a glow over our bedroom. Lulu is tucked inside her pink shoe, wrapped snugly in its silky ribbons. She lets out a soft snore. I look over at Oggie’s pickle jar. Behind the McClure’s label, I see a soft layer of pencil shavings and—nothing else.
Oggie is not in his bed.
I suddenly feel like I’ve eaten one too many rotten potatoes.
Oggie is never not in his bed. Every night, he gets into bed right before me, and when it’s time to get up, I’m the one to wake him.
I hop down from my shoe box and scurry out of our room. “Oggie?” I whisper. “Where are you?” I check the kitchen and the living nook and the dining nook, but there’s no tiny gray snout poking into the cupboards and no tiny gray paws curled up in the tissue box chair, and no tiny gray rat slurping leftovers off the dining table Dad built out of four nails and a cardboard box.
“Oggie?” I try again. “Stop playing. You’re scaring me.” I peek into the sorting nook. It’s empty except for the neatly sorted piles of paper, metal, plastic, gadgets, and Lulu’s accessories. There’s only one place left to look.
I tiptoe into Mom and Dad’s room. They’re sprawled out in their Tupperware container, fast asleep. Their paws are entwined, and there’s no tiny third set mixed in with them. I’m not surprised. Oggie never climbs into their bed when he’s scared; he always climbs into mine.
I sneak out of their room. “Oggie,” I whisper. “Come here right now.” I turn in a circle, waiting. Oggie didn’t just vanish into thin air. He has to be here somewhere.
Unless …
No.
He wouldn’t.
I sprint to the spying hole and climb onto my stool. Out in the station, the platform is packed with humans. There are humans in suits and humans in dresses, humans carrying bags and humans gripping phones, tiny humans and enormous humans, humans laughing and humans scowling, one after another after another, so many humans they blend into a single mass of hair and faces and arms and legs.
My eyes drop to the floor. It’s a traffic jam of feet. I scan from sneaker to sandal to heel. Finally my eyes land on the strip of dark green tile that runs along the bottom of the wall. Pressed against the tile, creeping slowly forward, is Oggie, the I ♥ NY sticker still pasted to his ear.
“No,” I gasp. I thrust my snout through the spying hole. Oggie is camouflaged enough by the tiles that so far no humans have noticed him. I have to get him to come home before one does.
“Oggie!” I hiss. “Come back this instant!” I sound exactly like Mom, but I don’t care. “I’m serious, Oggie! Get in here!” But trains are racing into the station on both sides of the tracks, and Oggie doesn’t hear me. He keeps creeping forward, his eyes focused on something in the distance.
I follow his gaze.
There, being sidestepped by dozens of humans, is the slice of pizza that was knocked out of the treasure chest earlier. The one I was supposed to forage for him.
A train stops on the tracks, panting like a rat out of breath. Humans jostle and patter, pouring off the train and cramming themselves on. With a sputter, the train lurches down the tracks again, vanishing into the blackness of the tunnels.
I squeeze through the hole. I don’t care how many rules I’m about to break. I have to help Oggie. I race out to the platform and press myself against the wall.
Through the rumble of footsteps, I catch a snippet of his voice. “Never give up! Oggie the Unstoppable! Just like Raffie!”
A dark, sticky feeling spreads through my stomach. “No, Oggie!” I shout. But another train roars into the station, rattling my bones and swallowing up my voice. My brother weaves through the maze of human feet, going straight for the pizza.
“Rat!” someone screams.
Suddenly the station is filled with battle cries.
“Eeeeek!”
“Gross!”
“Ew!”
People jump and shove toward the exit. I leap out of the way of a high heel. It hits the ground with a sickening crunch, right where I stood only seconds before. I flatten myself against the wall, trembling all over. “Oggie! Stop!” I shout. But Oggie’s already halfway down the platform. He doesn’t hear me.
“I see one! I actually see one, Tess!” The voice belongs to a boy. He’s pushing his way through the crowded platform. A girl follows behind him. “I can’t believe there’s finally a rat on the platform instead of the tracks. I’ve been looking for weeks!”
Tess wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, and it’s been disgusting for weeks, Tyler.”
My heart seizes. They’re walking straight toward Oggie.
Tyler drops his backpack and kneels down near Oggie. “Look at him, Tess. He’s even got an I ♥ NY sticker on his ear. He’s perfect.”
I wait for Oggie to run. But he stands frozen in place. He’s shaking all over, his eyes locked on the pizza. “What are you doing, Oggie?” I shout. “Come home this instant!”
I’m itching to run to him, but one rat on the platform is bad enough. If humans see two … I shudder. The E word will be here faster than I can say rat poison. I stay pressed against the wall. “Oggie!” I try again.
Oggie’s snout snaps up. Across the platform, his eyes meet mine. Finally. My whiskers droop with relief. “Come here,” I mouth.
Oggie’s eyes dart between the pizza and me. He doesn’t move.
“Perfect is not the word I’d use,” Tess says as I wave my tail frantically at Oggie. “Will you just forget this already, Tyler?”
“No way,” Tyler says. “I’m going to bring a subway rat to school for our class pet competition if it’s the last thing I do. It will be the best fifth-grade prank of all time!” Tyler pulls something out of his backpack and drops it on the ground. My heart splinters faster than a glass bottle on the tracks.
It’s a cage.
“OGGIE!” I shout.
I don’t care about being spotted anymore. I have to get to Oggie. I have to save him. I give up the protection of the wall and dash down the platform.
“Come, little rat,” Tyler sings. “Go in the bo
x.”
Tess rolls her eyes. “It’s never happening, Tyler. You don’t just catch a subway rat. Here, you really want to catch something?” She kicks the slice of pizza. It goes skidding into the cage. “There. You caught some pizza! Congratulations. Now can we please go—”
“Tess.” Tyler grabs her arm. “Look.” They both watch as Oggie inches slowly toward the cage. “I think he wants the pizza,” Tyler breathes.
I race toward Oggie. “Stop!” I scream. “It’s a trap!” But another train rushes into the station, drowning out my voice.
People spill off the train. I dodge feet left and right. “Don’t do it, Oggie!” I yell, but the footsteps stomp out my voice. I catch a glimpse of Oggie through a pair of legs. He steps into the cage.
“No!” I howl as the door of the cage slams shut behind him.
“Got him!” I hear Tyler say. “I can’t believe it. I actually caught one!”
I shove between a pair of yellow heels and leap over a brown shoe. “Rat!” someone shrieks. More battle cries follow, but I barely notice.
“I’m coming, Oggie!” I shout.
The train conductor’s voice echoes through the station. “Next stop, Jay Street–MetroTech.”
Tyler slips a cover over Oggie’s cage. “There.” He grins. “Now he can’t cause any trouble.”
Tess shakes her head. “Come on, rat boy. Mrs. Horowitz will kill us if we’re late for tonight’s play rehearsal.” She grabs Tyler’s arm and pulls him onto the train. I make it to the edge of the platform just as the doors of the train click shut.
Through the window, I see the cage rattling in Tyler’s arms.
“Oggie!” I scream.
The train kicks to a start and zooms out of the station, taking Oggie with it.
CHAPTER
5
Fly the Coop
“Oggie!” I gallop down the platform after the train. This can’t be happening. This can’t be real.
I skid to a stop at the end of the platform, where the tracks leave the station. I catch a glimpse of the back of the train, and then it melts into the blackness of the tunnels, and all that’s left is silence.
Raffie on the Run Page 2
