Raffie on the Run

by Jacqueline Resnick

  I leap desperately out of the way. “Over here,” I gasp. I duck my head and dash to the vent. Then I squeeze through the slats to disappear. It’s dark inside, but my whiskers automatically feel out the space. I give the vent a push. It falls off and lands on the ground with a clang. “Climb in,” I tell Kaz. “Now!”

  “Small spaces…” Kaz protests. Behind him, the man stomps toward us.

  “Small spaces or a bat,” I say. “Your choice.”

  The man closes the distance between us. His bat zooms through the air. Kaz jumps into the vent with a squawk.

  “I don’t think so!” the man screams. “You are not getting away from me.” He plunges the bat into the vent after us.

  “Go!” I yell.

  We turn and race through the darkness, into the space behind the wall.

  CHAPTER

  21

  Bugging Out

  My eyes glow in the darkness. I feel around with my whiskers. We’re inside a large, steel pipe.

  “Hate … small … spaces…” Kaz pants. We turn a corner. The vent is far behind us now. We’re safe, at least from the bat. Kaz stops short and covers his head with his wings. His breath comes out in short, raspy bursts. “Gonna … get … stuck…”

  “No, we’re not,” I promise. I look around. The pipe is wider than any I’ve ever been in. It’s colder too. An icy breeze ruffles my fur. Behind me, I hear Kaz’s beak start to chatter.

  I scurry closer to Kaz. “I was always finding my way through pipes back home. I’ll get us out of here, I promise.”

  Kaz doesn’t lift his head. He looks so small all bunched up like that. It reminds me of the time Oggie and I got lost in some pipes back home. He was so scared that he curled up in a ball and refused to move. I had to tell him twelve Raffie the Unstoppable stories to get him through those pipes. By the time we finally found our way home, my voice was hoarse and scratchy, but Oggie was beaming. “That was fun!” he cheered.

  My stomach clenches at the memory. Wherever Oggie is now, I doubt there’s anyone to tell him stories. I extract my claws. They scratch against steel. I have to get to Oggie. Which means I have to get Kaz moving.

  “Come on, Kaz,” I beg. “If you follow me, we’ll be out of here soon.” I take a long sniff. “I can smell the other end of the pipe. It’s not that far away.”

  Kaz lifts his stubby wing and peers down the long steel pipe. “Nah. Not happening.” He shoves his head back under his wing.

  “It’s just a pipe, Kaz.” I sigh. “What is it about small spaces that scares you so much?”

  “I don’t know.” Kaz’s head is still under his wing. His voice comes out all muffled. “I just hate ’em. Always have. A pigeon needs space to spread his wings.”

  “What if…” I think of Oggie. “What if I tell you a story while we walk?”

  Kaz peeks out from under his wing. “Like the stories you tell your brother?”

  I nod. “I’ve been told I’m the best storyteller there is.” It’s the truth. Oggie says that all the time.

  Kaz shrugs his wings, then grunts in pain. “You can try.”

  I know exactly which story to tell. It’s my new Raffie the Unstoppable story, the one I made up for Oggie’s birthday. I get a stabbing feeling in my chest, like I accidentally swallowed a staple. I push it away and start talking.

  “It was the best time in the subway station: before humans start their rush hour, but after the other rats have dragged their forages home behind the wall. Raffie the Unstoppable was alone on the subway platform, just the way he liked it. He was a lone adventurer in those days, a one-rat show. He was enjoying a relaxing forage along the platform when he heard a noise. It was a buzzing sound, a loud one. He turned and saw them. Bees. A whole swarm. They zoomed through the station. He could sense the very moment they saw him. Something in the air changed.”

  I can feel the story pumping through me, taking over. The pipe fades away. The cold air disappears. Suddenly I’m there, on the subway platform, the bees advancing toward me.

  “They flew as a unit,” I continue. “A single, angry, buzzing mass, swarming straight toward him. He could see their lethal stingers, dozens of them. The buzz was so loud he could barely hear himself think. All he knew was he had no way out.”

  I pull myself out of my storytelling daze and glance at Kaz. He’s listening. I start inching forward down the pipe. He inches behind me.

  “What happened next?” he asks. His breath isn’t quite so raspy anymore. I scurry faster, and he matches my pace.

  “The bees cornered Raffie the Unstoppable against the treasure chest,” I continue. “They were so close, he could smell the venom in their stingers. So he did the only thing he could do. He prepared for battle.”

  “How?” Kaz breathes. The pipe bends left, then right. Kaz stays by my side.

  “He extracted his claws. He flashed his incisors. He was going to go down, but not without a fight. The bees swarmed closer. One stinger skimmed his fur, then another. Suddenly, over the sound of buzzing, he heard a voice. ‘Over here, bees!’ it taunted. ‘Come sting me instead!’ Before Raffie the Unstoppable’s very eyes, the bees backed away. Their buzzing grew more ferocious as they flew to their new victim.”

  “Who was it?” Kaz bursts out.

  “It was a young rat, small and lithe. His name was Oggie the Brave. Oggie scurried down to the subway tracks. The bees zoomed after him. ‘Let him be!’ Raffie the Unstoppable yelled. He raced after the bees, calling them back, but it was too late. Oggie the Brave had caught their attention.

  “They swarmed the subway tracks, their buzzing thunderous. Raffie the Unstoppable was shaking as he stopped at the edge of the platform. He knew what he’d find when he looked down. Oggie the Brave would have sacrificed himself for him.

  “Except … the bees weren’t stinging anyone. They were hovering in the air, their buzzes growing angrier and angrier with each passing second. And then he saw it. The pool of rainwater that had collected on the tracks the night before. Oggie the Brave was submerged beneath it, swimming furiously.”

  “Of course!” Kaz gasps as we continue down the pipe. The smell of fresh air gets stronger. The exit is close. “Bees won’t go underwater.”

  “Exactly,” I say. “They swarmed above, waiting for Oggie the Brave to reemerge. But Oggie knew those tracks like the back of his paw. He swam straight toward the electric third rail and stopped short—only a whisker’s length away from it. The bees, however, had never heard of the third rail. They swarmed on top of it, waiting for Oggie to reemerge. Now, do you know how much electricity the subway track’s third rail has? Six hundred and twenty-five volts. ZAP! ZAP! ZAP!” I yell. “One by one, that rail zapped the bees down, until not a single buzz rang through the air. Oggie the Brave had beaten the bees and saved the life of Raffie the Unstoppable.” I pause and bow my head. “The. End.”

  “Whoa,” Kaz breathes. “That story had me on the edge of my talons.”

  “I told you I’m a good storyteller,” I boast. “And I can smell the exit to the pipe now. It’s just over there.”

  Kaz picks up his pace at the promise of getting out of the pipe. “Those are some powerful stories you tell, Raffie.”

  I think of Oggie scurrying toward the slice of pizza on the subway platform. Just like Raffie the Unstoppable! he’d said. I look away, unable to meet Kaz’s eyes. “Sure, they’re good, but they’re just stories,” I mutter.

  Kaz shakes his beak. “Just a story wouldn’t have gotten me through this pipe.”

  We round a bend. The pipe narrows. Light streams in, blinding us. “And now I’m outta here!” Kaz says. He pushes in front of me and hurries toward the light.

  “Ow!” Kaz bumps into something. It stops him in his tracks. I skid to a stop behind him.

  I blink into the light. Slowly, a shape emerges. It’s a box with seven different entrances. They all lead down to a small, clear cage. I’ve seen one of these before, back home. “It’s a bug trap,” I say. “It’s
blocking our exit.”

  “Not good. Really not good.” Kaz’s feathers ruffle.

  I press my nose to the clear plastic cage. Inside is a black bug. He’s not moving. I shiver. “Poor guy. He never stood a chance.”

  The bug lifts his head.

  I jump back with a yelp.

  “My heavens,” says the bug. “I do apologize if I frightened you.”

  My heart is still beating fast as I move closer to the trap. “I didn’t realize you were alive,” I say.

  “Oh, yes. I was just taking a brief snooze.” The bug crawls over to the window. He waves his antennae in a friendly gesture. “Salutations, good sirs,” he says. “I do wonder if you could help me. It seems as if I’ve gotten myself into quite a jam.”

  CHAPTER

  22

  Free as a Bird

  “I’d tip my hat to you,” the bug says. “But I seem to have lost it in my altercation with a water bug.” His antennae stiffen. “Those insipid insects simply have no respect for the homes of others; wouldn’t you agree?”

  Kaz, who has been waddling in a frantic circle, searching for a way around the trap, pauses. “Uh … aren’t you a water bug?”

  The bug’s mouth opens in a silent gasp. “My stars, no! I am of the strong and distinguished American cockroach species. I’m ashamed to admit that we do share some physical traits with the degenerates who go by the name of water bug, but I assure you, the similarities stop there.” The bug pauses. “Oh dear, my apologies. Here I am pontificating on water bugs, yet I haven’t formally introduced myself. I, my good sirs, am Walter Sink.” He dips his antennae low. “And who, may I ask, do I have the pleasure of encountering?”

  “I’m Raffie Lipton,” I say. I glance at Kaz. He’s pacing again. He pauses only to peck at the edge of the trap. “And that’s Kaz. He’s … um … a little nervous. He hates small spaces.”

  “Hey,” Kaz says in between pecks.

  Walter waves hello with his antennae. “I must say, I’m quite pleased to make your acquaintances. I’ve been stuck here alone ever since that conniving water bug forced me into this trap. You see, first he goaded me with an insult about Elizabeth Toilet, our newly crowned queen. Then, when I turned to protect her good name, he cornered me against the northwest corner of the trap and—”

  “Interesting,” Kaz cuts in. He gives up on pecking and presses his beak against Walter’s plastic cage. “But we’re in a rush here.” His breathing is growing raspier again. “Oggie’s brother was rat-napped, and we’ve got to get to Central Park West to find him, which means we’ve got to get out of this building, which means we’ve got to get past your trap so we can GET OUT OF THIS PIPE!” The last words come out in a shout. Kaz’s eyes dart wildly back and forth. “This very, very small pipe,” he adds.

  “That’s quite a predicament you’re in,” Walter agrees. “I’m at your service to help. I would never dare stand in the way of such a noble quest.” He looks down at his plastic trap. “Metaphorically speaking of course.” He swishes his antennae thoughtfully. “Perhaps there is a mutually beneficial solution to this predicament.”

  I scrunch up my snout. “A what-huh?”

  “What I mean to say is, if you could break apart this trap, you would have enough room to pass, while I would be freed. A favorable conclusion for all.”

  I bounce on my paws. “Like Lunch Box Chomp!”

  “What?” Kaz grunts.

  “It’s a game I made up with Oggie. Human kids have these little metal cupboards they carry around with them that are called lunch boxes. They’re filled with food, and sometimes a kid will forget one on the subway platform. So Oggie and I came up with Lunch Box Chomp. The first one to gnaw open the lunch box wins.”

  I think of the last time I played with Oggie. Oggie won, because he’s amazing at gnawing. He can gnaw a sneaker into a tunnel in three seconds flat. Inside the lunch box we found six perfectly rat-sized, perfectly aged pizza bagels. Oggie was so excited that he jumped on top of me, shouting, “Best game ever!”

  A sob rises inside of me. I miss Oggie so much it hurts. It’s ten times worse than my sore paws.

  “You okay, Raffie?” Kaz pants.

  I swallow hard. Missing Oggie isn’t going to get me to him. But gnawing open Walter’s trap will. “I’m fine.” I straighten up and flash my incisors, showing them off. “Did I mention that rats are born gnawers?”

  “Splendid,” Walter says.

  “So you gonna gnaw open this trap or what?” Kaz asks.

  “Going to,” I correct automatically. Kaz ignores me and gives the plastic another peck.

  “Please.” Walter gestures at his cage with his antennae. “Be my guest.”

  I examine the trap, searching for where the plastic is thinnest. Lulu taught me that trick when I first learned to gnaw. A section in the corner is slightly worn. Perfect. I crouch down low and begin to chew.

  Walter watches me work. “You really are quite skilled,” he says.

  “You should see my little brother,” I say between bites.

  “Can you gnaw through anything?” Walter asks.

  “Pretty much. Except for really thick steel. That’s what rattraps and cages are made of.” Just thinking of Oggie’s cage makes me angry. I gnaw faster. Harder. A crack grows in the trap. Before long, there’s a crumbling sound, and the whole thing collapses to pieces.

  “Finally,” Kaz breathes. “Let’s ditch this pipe.”

  Walter crawls delicately out of the crumbled cage. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

  CHAPTER

  23

  Queen Bee

  “Freedom!” Kaz races toward the vent at the end of the pipe. Light streams in through it. A voice, too.

  “Good evening, Mr. Howard … Going out for a late dinner, Miss Smith?”

  I recognize that voice. It belongs to Sal the doorman. We’re right back where we started, at the lobby. I groan. “Not the exit I was hoping for.”

  “Who cares?” Kaz rams his beak into the vent. It rattles, but doesn’t dislodge. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “And then what?” I argue. “Your wing’s bruised, remember? You can’t fly. And I’ve seen how fast you waddle.”

  “If you prefer an alternate exit, you could accompany me home,” Walter offers. “There is a vent near our burrow that should be quite easy to depart through. It’s close to the sidewalk.”

  “There are no doormen there?” I ask. “Or rat-hating supers?”

  “I should hope not.” Walter’s antennae shudder. “Besides, I’m sure our queen will be eager to show her appreciation for my safe return. Perhaps she’ll be able to proffer assistance with your quest.”

  “And just how far away is this burrow?” Kaz asks.

  “It’s right down the golden highway.” Walter points an antenna at a brass pipe that winds along next to the vent. “Then we’ll cross the silver bridge and reach our burrow behind the sink.”

  “We’re in,” I say.

  Kaz takes a deep breath. “Okay,” he agrees.

  We follow Walter onto the brass pipe. I scurry after him easily, but Kaz has to duck his head to fit. The pipe winds through the wall, past globs of dust and sheets of insulation and wafts of mustiness. I breathe in the familiar, homey scents. “Here’s the silver bridge,” Walter calls back. It’s a cinder block. On the other side is a wide patch of ground covered in a thin coat of water. The whole place is crawling with Walter lookalikes.

  “Welcome to the burrow,” Walter says grandly. “I assure you that our puddle is of the oldest, moldiest quality. We’re quite fortunate that the leak in apartment 1C’s sink has gone undetected for years.”

  Before Walter can say more, a young cockroach sidles up to him. “King Walter!” he squeals. “You’ve returned to us! Mother, the king is home!”

  All at once, the activity in the burrow comes to a sudden stop. At least a dozen bugs turn in Walter’s direction. “All hail the king!” someone cries. Suddenly they all lower their
antennae in matching bows.

  “King?” Kaz repeats.

  “Oh, did I not mention that?” Walter asks calmly.

  My eyes pop as I take in the bowing bugs. “You mentioned the new queen,” I say.

  “That,” Walter says proudly, “would be my lovely new wife. Speaking of…”

  A broad, stately cockroach crawls over. She’s a lighter color than Walter, and she swishes her antennae gracefully as she approaches. Resting on her head is a wreath of bristles. “Walter?” Her voice is high and strong. “Is that really you, darling? I thought you were … I was so scared…” The rest of her words are lost in a sob.

  “I’m home, my love.” Walter wraps his antennae around her. “Thanks to these brave gentlemen.”

  The queen turns her attention to Kaz and me. “You have brought our king back to us. We cockroaches believe no good deed shall go unpaid. Please, tell me what I can do for you in return.”

  “They are venturing northward, to search for Raffie’s brother, who’s been cruelly rat-napped,” Walter says. “Do you have anything that might assist them on such a noble quest?”

  The queen is quiet for a moment, thinking. “I believe I have just the thing. Follow me.”

  She leads us along a wet path. As we pass, each cockroach respectfully lowers his or her antennae, murmuring in a low voice.

  “Are they bowing to you?” I ask.

  “Not this time,” the queen replies. “They’re bowing to you. Listen.”

  I cock an ear, and soon I’m able to make out what the bugs are murmuring. “All hail the heroes.”

  “Heroes,” I whisper. I give my whiskers a twitch. “Hear that, Kaz?”

  “Oh yeah.” Kaz fluffs his feathers. “I could get used to this.”

  “Here we are.” The queen stops in front of a shiny pink box. “This,” she explains, “is where we store our most valuable acquisitions.” The queen crawls up the side of the box and flicks the clasp with an antenna. She noses the top open. Immediately, music begins to twinkle, and a small plastic girl in a pouffy dress spins round and round.