Raffie on the Run
Page 17
There are six different ways to get from the subway platform to our home behind the wall: two vents, three holes, and one crack. We take the closest hole. I shuffle through a cinder block and under a pipe. I hobble around a glob of dust and take a three-legged hop over a fallen beam. A new smell wafts toward us. Spoiled … sour … scrumptious. It’s my mom’s potpourri. She mixes it out of gnawed-up chopsticks and rotten eggs. “Do you smell that, Oggie?”
Oggie’s whiskers twitch with excitement. “Smells like home.”
We climb through a gap in some insulation. It brings us to a long, narrow pipe. At the other end, I hear voices.
“It’s not the same without them,” my dad says sadly.
“Happy birthday, Oggie,” my mom sobs.
“Wherever you are,” Lulu adds.
It’s them! They’re in the kitchen nook. I forget all about my injured leg and race through the pipe. Oggie is right behind me. Pain shoots through me, but I don’t care.
I can just make them out. They’re sitting around the kitchen table. Lulu is wearing a soy-sauce dish on her head, a bag handle belted around her stomach, and a shiny red bow knotted around her tail.
A torn paper bowl sits at the center of the table. It’s piled high with foraged treats. I take a sniff: fuzzy raspberries and melty candy bars and a half-eaten banana and croissant crumbs and a thick glob of yogurt and a drizzle of ice cream and a whole bunch of smashed M&Ms. It’s a birthday tower for Oggie.
My mom sobs as she places the tower topper at the very tip. A moldy marshmallow, completely unnibbled. “I just hope they’re safe,” she chokes out. Lulu buries her snout in her paws. My dad shakes with silent sobs.
Oggie and I run faster. We’re almost at the end of the pipe. “What was that fancy way you announced yourself the other day?” Oggie asks giddily.
I think back. It feels like so long ago that I picked up that new human word on the platform. But it was only a few days. I throw myself out of the pipe. I land three-legged on the rug my mom wove out of foraged MetroCards. “Selfie!” I announce.
Oggie jumps down after me. He tumbles to the ground and bumps into me, sending us both skidding across the rug. “Double selfie!” he shouts.
Three snouts whip in our direction at once.
“Raffie?” Lulu gasps.
“Oggie?” my dad cries.
“My boys!” my mom shrieks.
And then they’re all on top of us at once, and I can’t even tell who I’m hugging because we’re one big Lipton family tangle of paws and tails and whiskers and fur, and nothing has ever felt more like home.
CHAPTER
46
A Rat’s Tale
Everyone’s talking at once.
“Thank the trash you’re okay—”
“We were so scared—”
“I made you so many accessories while you were gone—”
“Dad’s been out searching for you every day—”
“We alerted the gossip rats—”
“Where were you?”
Mom, Dad, and Lulu all fall silent. They stare at us expectantly.
“I went to school!” Oggie exclaims. Except his snout is buried in his birthday tower, so it sounds more like “I-wen-scooo!” He lifts his head. His fur is smeared with chocolate. “I got fans! And I learned stuff. Did you know that one plus two equals three?”
“Y-you … but how?” my mom stammers.
“I don’t even know where to begin,” I say. I limp over to my favorite chair in the living nook: a striped sock stuffed with just the right amount of dirt.
My mom gasps. “You’re hurt, Raffie!”
“I had a little run-in with a trap,” I admit.
My mom takes my paw in hers. I yelp as she examines it. “We need the healer,” she says tightly. She hurries over to the soda can she keeps tucked behind the fort Oggie and I built out of milk cartons and tissue boxes. My dad scurries after her. The can is filled with soda tabs. They both grunt as they hoist it into the air.
Together, my parents push the can back and forth between them, faster and faster, until a loud rattling fills the room. A minute later, an old, stooped rat waddles in through a vent. He’s carrying a torn, beaded purse in his teeth.
“You rattled?” he pants.
“Mr. Cashmere, I’m so glad you’re here.” My mom gestures to my leg. “Look at Raffie!”
“You’re back,” Mr. Cashmere wheezes. “Thank the trash.” He crouches in front of me and pokes at my paw, making me wince. “Broken,” he determines. He dumps the contents of his bag onto the ground. Straws and shoelaces and postage stamps and chewed-up gum and crumpled Band-Aids and a whole mix of metal screws.
He presses a screw to my fur, right at the spot where my bone feels all crunchy. Then he gnaws open a straw, wraps it around my paw, and ties the whole thing in place with a bit of shoelace. “There,” he pants. “Leave that splint on and it should heal up just fine.” I carefully stretch out my paw. It feels better now that it’s all wrapped up. “Of course, he’ll need to stay off of it,” Mr. Cashmere adds. “Which means all meals should be brought to him in bed.”
Oggie and I exchange a look. “Cool!” I say.
“Can I break a leg?” Oggie asks.
“Absolutely not!” my parents say in unison. Before they can say anything more, the sound of pawsteps fills our home.
“What in the name of the thief is that?” my mom murmurs.
Rats. One after another. They climb through the vents and push through the insulation and scramble through the pipe. The Cashmeres and the Kelloggs, every single one of them.
“Holy cheese, they’re really back,” Mrs. Kellogg cries. The room fills up with questions. They fire at us from every side. Oggie clambers onto the chair with me and winds his tail around mine. In the chaos, I don’t notice Ace pushing through the crowd. But suddenly he’s at my side, towering over me. He’s as big as ever: his huge, drooly snout, his thick, oversized paws. We stare at each other and, one by one, the other rats fall silent. “C’mon, you’ve got to tell us,” Ace says loudly. “What happened out there, Mouse?”
It’s the nickname that’s followed me my entire life. The nickname I’ve hated with every single ounce of my being. And suddenly, for the life of me, I can’t remember why.
Lulu pushes her way up next to Ace. “What did happen?” she asks.
I look at Oggie. Oggie looks at me. “You tell it,” Oggie says.
I lounge back in the chair and rest my paws on my belly. There’s nothing I like more than telling a good story. “It all started with a slice of pizza…”
Epilogue
Six Months Later: Ratmas
Lily Wilson sits on an empty subway station platform, staring down at the uneaten slice of pizza on her lap. “Why does my babysitter always force pizza on me?” she grumbles to herself. She pulls a Twizzler out of her pocket. “I’d much rather snack on my Halloween candy from yesterday, thank you very much.”
Lily stands up and marches to the nearest trash can. She’s halfway there when something catches her eye. Two thin gray tails are swishing through the trash. A baby rat emerges with a squeak. He’s adorable, with big eyes and a half-eaten lollipop in his teeth. Stickers shine on each of his ears. One says I ♥ NY and the other Made in Bklyn. A second rat emerges next to him. He has a white Chinese food carton dangling from his teeth. It’s overflowing with Halloween trash: crinkly candy wrappers and smushed gummy bears and melty chocolate and an uneaten Milky Way bar.
A flap of wings gives Lily a start. A pigeon swoops down and perches on the edge of the trash can. “What’s a pigeon doing down in the subway?” Lily murmurs. The pigeon has a glossy green neck and white wings striped with black. He stretches them out, and Lily blinks in surprise. One of his wings is stubby, as if half of it has been torn right off.
The pigeon hoots, and both rats squeak back. They’re talking, Lily realizes. She takes a step closer. I wonder if they like pizza. She takes another step. Her foot knocks into a
soda can that’s littering the platform. It skitters loudly ahead.
Inside the trash can, all three animals freeze. The baby rat’s whiskers tremble. The other rat’s tail curls. The pigeon hops in front of them both, as if blocking them with his body.
“Don’t be scared,” Lily says softly. “I just want to give you some pizza.” She dangles the slice in front of her. “See? I didn’t even take a single bite.”
The pigeon hoots. Slowly, the bigger rat peeks out from behind his wings. His whiskers twitch as he sniffs the air. “I’m not going to hurt you,” Lily says gently. She places the slice of pizza on the ground. “There. That’s for you.”
The bigger rat scurries down to the slice. He lets out a long string of squeaks as his paws sink into warm, gooey cheese. He looks up, and his eyes meet Lily’s. For a second, he just stares at her. Then he bows his head, almost as if he’s saying thank you.
“You’re welcome,” Lily says. She watches as the baby rat scurries down to join him. They both sink their teeth eagerly into the pizza. Together, they carry it across the subway platform, toward a vent in the wall. The pigeon waddles behind them, holding the white carton of candy in his beak.
“Bye,” Lily calls out. The bigger rat turns around. He lifts his tail, almost like a wave. Then, one by one, the animals disappear through the vent, taking the food with them.
Author’s Acknowledgments
I’ve dreamed of writing a book like this ever since I was a little girl reading books like this. Chasing a dream like that is rarely something you do alone, and my path is full of people to thank.
Mom, Dad, and Lauren, thank you for believing in me from day one, for cheering me on and picking me back up, and everything in between. Nate, thank you for keeping me sane and fed and laughing, and for reminding me that I can do this, no matter how many times I need to hear it. And, of course, Florence. I always thought writing books was my one big dream—until I met you. Thank you for being my dream come true, baby girl.
To the rest of my family (Sid, Minna, Rachel, Randy, Tyler, Cole, Sean, Kellan, Popi, Jake, Sam, Daniel, Kyla, Monica, and Uncle Eric!) who have so fully supported this path and always come to every event: I’m incredibly lucky to have you all on my team. And in memory of my Aunt Michele: Florence Michele carries your name on with love.
Thank you, too, to my writing group—Julie, Alyssa, and Caroline—for helping me through this project, and so much more.
Finally, thank you to Raffie’s amazing publishing team: my agent, Stephen Barbara, who believed in this book in its earliest iteration and kept at it with me until we got it right; my brilliant editor, Katherine Jacobs, who helped me to see this story in such exciting new ways; and the insanely talented illustrator, Joe Sutphin, and book designer, Elizabeth H. Clark, who brought Raffie’s world to life so beautifully. This book wouldn’t be what it is without all of you.
Illustrator’s Acknowledgments
Drawing pictures for a living is a blessing I thank God for daily. Bookmaking doesn’t come quickly or easily, so it’s important to surround yourself with people who will support, uplift, and challenge you.
Thank you, Gina, my talented wife who keeps everything in life afloat, and who once asked me as I sat disappointed, “Would you still draw pictures, even if you never got published?” That question forever changed my perspective. Thankfully that was not our outcome.
Andrew Peterson, for your friendship and the friendships I gained through the Rabbit Room community. Sam Smith and Jamin Still, for being such encouraging brothers. Brannon McAllister, for friendship and tremendous support. Mom and Dad, for finding value in your little boy’s doodles. Ciarra and Seth, I am tremendously proud of who you have both grown to be. Never stop believing in dreams. Tony and Judy Black, for all of your love and kindness. Matthew Johnson, your words and actions mean more to my home than you know. Ed Maxwell, for hard work and encouragement, and for always talking me down from the ledges. Katherine Jacobs, for seeing something in me that you wanted in this story.
About the Author and Illustrator
Jacqueline Resnick lives in New Jersey with her husband and daughter, where she can usually be found writing, drinking chai lattes, or making just one more trip to the bookstore. You can sign up for email updates here.
Joe Sutphin lives in a red barn in Ohio. He’s the illustrator of Word of Mouse by James Patterson and Chris Grabenstein, and when he’s not drawing, he can be found outside, looking under rocks for critters. You can sign up for email updates here.
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Prologue
1 Rat Race
2 A Cat-and-Mouse Game
3 Pack Rats
4 A Sitting Duck
5 Fly the Coop
6 A Fish out of Water
7 Birds of a Feather Flock Together
8 A Deer in Headlights
9 Don’t Get Your Feathers in a Bunch
10 A Little Monkey Business
11 Not a Clay Pigeon
12 Don’t Chicken Out
13 Let Sleeping Dogs Lie
14 Not Just Puppy Love
15 In the Doghouse
16 A Dog and Pony Show
17 Not a Spring Chicken Anymore
18 A Dog-Eat-Dog World
19 Every Dog Has Its Day
20 Kill Two Birds with One Stone
21 Bugging Out
22 Free as a Bird
23 Queen Bee
24 Squirrel Away
25 Make a Beeline for It
26 Can’t Squirrel out of This
27 In the Lion’s Den
28 Nervous as a Long-Tailed Cat in a Room Full of Rocking Chairs
29 Pull a Rabbit out of a Hat
30 Like a Moth to a Flame
31 Like a Pig in Slop
32 Bird’s-Eye View
33 A Little Bird Told Me
34 Open That Can of Worms
35 Fish in Troubled Water
36 Happy as a Clam
37 Straight from the Horse’s Mouth
38 Raining Cats and Dogs
39 A Drowned Rat
40 Ratted Out
41 Don’t Let the Cat out of the Bag
42 Smell a Rat
43 Bull’s-Eye
44 Till the Cows Come Home
45 Like Ducks to Water
46 A Rat’s Tale
Epilogue
Author’s Acknowledgments
Illustrator’s Acknowledgments
About the Author and Illustrator
Copyright
Text copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline Resnick
Illustrations copyright © 2018 by Joe Sutphin
Published by Roaring Brook Press
Roaring Brook Press is a division of Holtzbrinck Publishing Holdings Limited Partnership
175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010
mackids.com
All rights reserved
Library of Congress Control Number: 2017944673
ISBN: 978-1-62672-866-0
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eISBN 9781626728677
First hardcover edition, 2018
eBook edition, February 2018