Hamster Gangster

by Angela Robb

  I feel a warm glow in my chest as I smile right back. We turn to check on Dwayne. The mole is wriggling for all he’s worth, trying to squeeze himself out of the bottle. ‘This is what comes,’ he gasps, ‘of being so luxuriantly velvety!’

  I would suggest that it has more to do with eating a few too many earthworms, but we’ve no time to discuss it. Nev takes hold of Dwayne’s big hands and pulls. I put my arms around Nev’s middle, and we heave, once … twice … I’m beginning to wonder how the rats shoved him in there in the first place … three times …

  Pop.

  Nev and I fall backwards, with Dwayne landing on top. ‘Thank you,’ he says.

  We pick ourselves up and make for the exit, tiptoeing quickly through the pipe. As we draw closer to the chamber, we slow down … the sounds of the party are all but gone. With all that food in their bellies, the rats must have fallen asleep. Finally, nothing stands between us and the light of the setting sun.

  We run. My heart’s beating faster, I’m growing lighter with every bound …

  Almost there … racing straight for the circle of light at the end of the tunnel …

  We spill through the front door – and are met by grinning faces. Not mouse faces.

  We skid to a halt, face to face with a crooked face.

  A possibly mad, worryingly gleeful face.

  Vinny’s face.

  I’m staring straight into his bloodshot eyes. Dwayne sniffs the air and groans.

  ‘Well what’s this?’ squeaks Vinny. ‘Fancy meetin’ you ’ere. The Big Cheese ’imself, doin’ a runner with his traichous … traitous …’

  ‘Traitorous?’ I suggest.

  Vinny nods. ‘… friends. Methinks it’s time to make a Big Cheese sandwich out of your cold dead corpses.’

  Vinny is standing with the old Big Cheese’s bodyguards, along with half a dozen other rats. There is no sign of Nev’s family.

  ‘Actually,’ I try, ‘I was just about to chuck these two into the river, as soon as I had bitten off all their little fingers.’

  ‘Ha!’ spits Vinny. ‘There ain’t no lie can get you out of this one, hamster. I heard what you was plottin’ with them mice.’

  ‘You did?’ Oops.

  ‘Every dirty detail ’bout how you’d rescue these double-crossin’ runts and bail out on us. Didn’t you notice I skipped your little party back there?’

  The simple answer would be no.

  ‘Well you never did like me very much.’

  ‘Quite so. Ha! As if I’d be raisin’ a toast to some kiddie’s pet takin’ over this gang. But more than that, I knew you’d be up to no good – knew it in me bones – so I hid out in them pipes, and I heard it all. Then all I had to do was stop these stooges in their tracks’ – he points at the two guards – ‘and gather up everyone who wasn’t too overstuffed to come up ’ere and lie in wait for ya.’

  Actually, I’m not so sure that anyone isn’t too overstuffed. All the rats are weighed down by bulging stomachs, including Vinny, who clearly took a few snacks with him when he hid in the pipes.

  ‘It’s a pity that you are all full up, and slow,’ I say, and I’m giving Nev a poke behind my back at this point, ‘otherwise I would give you a most painful reminder of how I came to be Big Cheese in the first place.’ Now I’m using two fingers – still behind my back – to imitate a pair of little fast-running legs. From the way he just squeezed my hand, I’d say Nev wholeheartedly agrees with this course of action. ‘But since you are all fat and helpless, it would not be fair. And I always fight fair.’

  Vinny laughs loudly, and now the fingers behind my back are tiptoeing.

  ‘Let’s see you try,’ he yells, looking poised to jump on us, ‘’cause as a matter of fact we’re just about helpless enough to squash the three of you into pâté!’

  ‘NOT so very FAST!’

  We turn quickly to stare at the top of the embankment. There, under the shadow of the bridge, is the Big Cheese – I mean, the former Big Cheese. He’s sitting atop his roller skate looking extremely angry. And standing right behind him are none other than Nev’s family.

  ‘You are fools! The whole lot of you! Brainless, blundering fools!’

  ‘What you on about?’ shouts Vinny. ‘No one ain’t listenin’ to you! You’ve been ousted!’

  The ex-Big Cheese is shaking both his fists. ‘How dare you! Don’t you see what you have done? You have closed Claude’s bistro down! It is shut, and it will remain shut, thanks to you and your little food fight!’

  Vinny and the other rats gasp in horror.

  ‘So you see,’ continues the one-time Big Cheese, ‘I’ll be the one doing the squashing around here! For the love of French cuisine, I shall leave tyre tracks on your swollen bellies!’

  He signals to the mice, who, as one, give the roller skate a good push.

  Now the roller skate, complete with enormous rat, is tearing down the embankment.

  ‘RAAAAAAHHHHH!!’ cries the ex-Big Cheese.

  The world has gone into slow motion. Vinny and the two bodyguards reach out their arms as if to ward off the roller skate, their jaws dropping in horror. The bleary eyes of the other rats seem to gradually open wide.

  Nev and I perform a giant, leaping sidestep … taking a bewildered Dwayne with us …

  But the rats are less light on their feet.

  The old Big Cheese knocks his bodyguards over like skittles – smacks into Vinny – now Vinny’s in the river and the roller skate is upside down, wheels spinning in the air. The former boss rat and his two guards land squarely on top of two party-goers each, pinning the lot of them down.

  Vinny is doing a lot of splashing. ‘GET ME OUT OF HERE!’ He keeps disappearing under the water then popping up again. ‘YOU IDIOTS! DON’T— JUST STAND THERE!’

  Nev’s family reach the bottom of the bank.

  ‘Thank you, all of you!’ says Dwayne. Nev is hugging his little sister.

  ‘That,’ I add, ‘was inspired.’

  Now Tina, Nev and I are looking at each other.

  ‘Roller skate,’ we say together.

  All eight of us take hold of the skate, and flip it back on to its wheels.

  ‘Just what … do you think you’re doing?’ murmurs its dazed owner.

  Everyone scrambles on board, except Uncle Alfie and me.

  ‘DON’T YOU— EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!’ gasps Vinny, still splashing desperately. ‘STAY RIGHT— WHERE YOU ARE!’

  ‘Not likely,’ mutters Nev.

  ‘But Vinny,’ I shout, ‘with me gone, you’ll get to be Big Cheese! Isn’t that good news?’

  ‘TOO— RIGHT!’ he gurgles. ‘I WILL BE BIG— CHEESE!— AND HERE’S WHAT I’M— GONNA DO!’

  At that, there is a familiar fluttering of wings. Francis descends out of nowhere, clutching Vinny by his shoulders and keeping his head above the water. Clearly, the ever-present spy would like to hear exactly what the next Big Cheese is going to do.

  ‘I’M GONNA KILL YOU!’

  No surprises there, then. Uncle Alfie and I begin to shove the roller skate. The others each push one foot against the ground, and we’re off.

  ‘I’M GONNA KNOCK DOWN EVERY PET SHOP IN THIS CITY JUST TO MAKE SURE THERE AIN’T ANOTHER ONE OF YOU!’

  Uncle Alfie and I hop on to the skate.

  ‘COME BACK ’ERE!’

  Looking over my shoulder, I don’t think I’ll ever forget this image of a spluttering rat being held at the water’s surface by a desperately flapping pigeon.

  I give him a wave, to show that there are no hard feelings.

  ‘JUST YOU WAIT TILL I’VE— DIGESTED—’

  Vinny’s voice fades out of earshot. I feel a tiny bit rude for hurrying off while he’s in the middle of threatening me … Okay, I’m over that now.

  The roller skate is speeding along nic
ely. Tina is riding up front, whooping and punching the air.

  But the embankment is shallower here and there are people up on the pavement. So we bring our trusty transport to a halt and hop off, safely hidden behind a litter bin.

  Now we’re all standing in silence, catching our breath, just looking at each other.

  ‘I’m sorry things worked out this way,’ says Nev. ‘I know how much it meant to you to become the Big Cheese, and you deserved it, Rocco.’

  I find myself shrugging. ‘I always believed I’d be a superstar action hamster. And it’s turned out to be so. But I guess there’s no point in any of that unless it means doing some good. Not just chasing glory, but helping out my friends. I think, from the moment I left Gary’s, all I really had to do was find out who those are.’

  ‘You’re the bravest kind of hamster there is, Rocco,’ says Tina.

  ‘And there are a lot of things I couldn’t have done without some other seriously courageous rodents.’

  Nev’s little sister is grinning from ear to ear.

  ‘So what do we do now?’ asks Pip.

  It seems everything’s back to normal, because I don’t know about the others, but I have no plan whatsoever.

  ‘How about,’ says Nev, with a sly smile, ‘we throw ourselves into goodness-knows-what, have a flash of inspiration, and somehow become the most amazingly awesome rodents in the city?’

  ‘Sounds good,’ says Nev’s mum.

  ‘Then let’s randomly choose which way to go,’ says Nev’s dad. ‘Dwayne, since your eyesight’s so poor, I’d say you’re the perfect mole for the job.’

  ‘Oh … I suppose so.’ Dwayne hesitates, then points to the left.

  We run along the water’s edge with the evening sun in our eyes. I’ve no idea where we’re going, but so long as we stick together we can never fail. I am Rocco the Unstoppable, Rocco the Honorary Mouse, and I’ve never felt better in my life.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  A big thanks to the creative writing tutors and mentors who’ve supported me along the way since I first hatched the crazy plan of becoming a writer, and who’ve always convinced me that I had to keep going.

  I’m also ever grateful to the folks at Strathkelvin Writers’ Group for friendship, feedback and help, not to mention that all-important sense of togetherness. And to the children who commented on the story for me: hearing how much you enjoyed it has been the best source of encouragement I could have wished for.

  Special thanks to Dave Hill for his fantastic cover artwork, and to the team at Matador for all their input.

  And last but by no means least, an extra big thanks to my family and friends for your love, support and belief in me and in a hamster named Rocco. I’m lucky to be part of a gang like this one.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Angela Robb lives in Stirlingshire, Scotland, and likes nothing better than getting thoroughly lost in the landscape. She studied in Glasgow and Edinburgh and still spends plenty of time in both, soaking up ideas for settings and stories. Small furry pets are, she has discovered, another source of inspiration. Hamster Gangster is her first novel.