Pete's Rat

Another one from the vault.

Pete's Rat

Pete's bar is not the cleanest or most reputable establishment in the city, but it is close to where I live, and as long as I drink the beer from a fresh bottle I'm no all that worried about catching something exotic.

I'd been waiting around for something to happen. Sometimes I get these feelings. It had been a busy night. Lots of drinking, cursing and general carrying on; exactly the sort of atmosphere I like. It was around one AM when something happened behind the bar.

Pete is a big guy. He has to be to keep things orderly and profitable in that part of town. I'd seen him take on three angry drunks at once and not even work up a sweat. He was bending down behind the bar when he let out a yell and a curse. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a large gray shape run from behind the bar and out through the legs of several of the patrons. The hair on the back of my neck started itching. I slapped my money down on the table and headed out the door just behind Pete. I know a rat when I see one.

I hung out in the shadow of the doorway to see what would happen next. Pete was wandering around the street calling out to somebody named Jennings.

"Jennings? Come out here you stupid rat. I want you back in your cage!"

Jennings? Who names a rat Jennings and sticks it in a cage behind a bar? I hadn't thought Pete was that imaginative. He ran past me muttering under his breath "Jennings! You bastard! Get back here!" He kept it up for the better part of an hour. The police came out eventually and carted him off when he got unruly with them. Magic can have a strange effect on some people. It’s kind of like an allergic reaction. Pete was apparently one of those. I might have been able to help him out but I had bigger fish to fry.

The patrons had been taking care of the bar during the owners little 'illness'. I walked behind the counter and checked the till. It looked like somebody had been sober enough to recognize the possibilities there so I wasn’t going to be able to do Pete any favors on that front.

On my way out I grabbed a package of crackers from behind the bar. I walked over to the Dumpster and dropped one. "Ok Jennings you can come out now, he's gone." Silence, or the closest thing you can get to it in the big city. "Look, we can do this easy, or we can do it hard. So make it easy on both of us and come out."

"Say I did, what's in it for me?"

I smiled, my hunch may have been correct. "Besides the cracker? That depends."

"On what?"

"How did you happen to become a rat in a cage in the back of the bar at Pete’s?"

"Oh, that. Well, it’s kind of a long story."

"Do tell."

"You really want to hear this?"

"Yes."

"Well, I used to be a Poodle. Then one day I woke up as a rat. That was a bit of a shock, especially since I'd been curled up next to Solips, the family cat. Luckily I managed to get out of there before he noticed me; out the dog door through a hole in the fence and into the street. I've been running ever since."

"And before that?"

"I was one of those big sea turtles. A good life, and not to bad if you know how to avoid the pitfalls. I had to be careful though. Speed, at least on land wasn't my strong point."

It was all made sense to me. All that was left was arranging payment. "I'll bet you started life out as a human?"

"Yep, near as I can remember it I started life out as a tinker in 18th century New England."

"And did a brass ring come into your possession a short time before these problems started?"

"Let me think... Could have been, it's been awhile you know."

"Well then, I think I can help you. All I want is the ring."

"You’re welcome to it if you can find it."

"Good, are you going to come out from under there now?"

"Oh sure."

Out he waddled, one of the biggest rats I had ever seen. He paused long enough to quickly eat the cracker and then looked up at me "What now?"

I pulled the wand from the inner pocket of my coat, mumbled the words to the unbinding spell and stood back. The spot that had held the rat a moment before now held a short swarthy brown haired man dressed in the clothes of an old time merchant. On the ring finger of his left hand was a brass ring. "The Ring?"

"No problem, happy to be rid of it." He replied. He took it from his finger and handed it to me. It was well worth my trouble; I'd recovered one of my earlier devices and saved myself a finder’s fee.

The tinker scratched his head "Now all I have to do is figure out how to make a living."

I smiled and did my best to look reassuring "You can spend the night at my place. I have a friend that would be glad to have your services. There's still work for a craftsman."

As we walked back to my apartment I smiled to myself. "Yes," I thought. "Still work for a craftsman."

Copyright 2011 Michael J. Miller Jr.