‘The
Rat and His Dream’
Christina McCarthy.
Copyright
© 2012 Christina McCarthy
Smashwords Edition
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Praise for the Book.
‘Deserves
a very wide audience! The book will appeal to children and adults
alike.
I couldn’t put it down!’
(Steve Biddulph best-selling author of ‘The Secret of Happy Children,’ ‘Raising Boys’ & ‘Stories of Manhood.’)
Contents
Copyright
page
Praise for the book
Contents page
Title
page
Dedications
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter
Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter
Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter
Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter
Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter
Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter
Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter
Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
THE
RAT AND HIS DREAM
by
Christina McCarthy
ISBN:
978-1-4659-2328-8
Cover art &
design by P.A. Guala
To
my father and mother – fellow dreamers…dreaming still,
and to all of the others in this world, and beyond, who dare to follow their dreams.
May
you realize the wondrous magic of your own true
self.
Inspired
by my son Bartlett Cadogan, who was born in the Year of the Rat!
And with thanks to everyone who shared my own journey and who continue to do so, especially my partner, Peter Guala, who helped me with the technical details of computer wisdom; my children Adam, Bartlett and Rhiannon Cadogan and my ex-husband Steffan Cadogan, who have all waited so long for Lubin to share his dream!
Prologue
Beyond the shadows…beyond the fear…
something
is waiting for you…something is hoping.
In the deepest corners
of your mind, a dream is growing.
Dare you follow it?
This is
the story of someone who took up that dream…
and found there
were others.
CHAPTER
ONE
‘The sun, the moon, the stars, the
seas, the hills and the plains,
Are not these, O Soul, the Vision
of Him who reigns?
Is not the Vision He? Tho’ He be not that
which He seems?
Dreams are true while they last, and do we not
live in dreams?’
(Alfred
Tennyson – The Higher Pantheism)
****
It had been a cruel winter. Most of the time it was a struggle to survive, but this winter had been the most severe any rat could remember.
Lubin, a brown rat of rare character, had seen many of his friends brought down to the level of mere existence; fighting for every scrap of food they could obtain. Many little ones had died. Their mothers’ weeping had echoed throughout the great tunnels and gutters. Rats whom most had thought of as decent, upright folk had been dragged down to unheard levels of despair; grabbing food from the innocent and pillaging honest rats’ nests for a morsel of sustenance.
This cold season had disheartened Lubin and many of his friends, though some he no longer cared to call ‘friend’. The young rat’s own mother had lost three little ones and had been in the depths of despair, almost dying herself, though more from loss of will than hunger.
Lubin had seen enough. He had experienced untold horrors during those first few weeks of winter and he had become almost completely disillusioned with his own species.
‘Why can’t we help each other father?’ Lubin had asked his father, Derfael. ‘Why can’t we stick together and share the things we have.’
Derfael had smiled then. But it was a strangely sad smile. ‘Son, you are still so young. Perhaps one day you will be able to accept the way of things. The order of our lives is a hard one, but if you would stop fighting your nature, you would find it easier.’
‘My nature?’ cried Lubin angrily. ‘I’ll never accept the ways of our kind. Never!’
‘Then you had better leave the tunnels now,’ Derfael was trying to hold his temper. ‘There is no place for a rat who strives to be different.’
The raised voices had upset the youngest rat pups and Lubin’s mother comforted them, licking them and pushing them gently together for warmth. ‘Please,’ she whispered, ‘can’t you both be still now? Always arguing, you are. You’re too alike. Both stubborn and with wills of rock! Why not just agree to differ?’
But neither Lubin nor Derfael were listening. Both minds were already made up. There was to be no compromise. Lubin, like his father, found it difficult to hold his temper. He was shaking with fury. He knew he had to leave his home and now was as good a time as any.
‘It’s all right mother. I’ll leave…today.’
‘No Lubin! Derfael for pity’s sake stop him can’t you? Lubin – your father said things in the heat of the moment. He didn’t mean — ’
Derfael cut in, his face now glowering with anger. ‘I meant every word, Leda, and I spoke the truth. There is no place for rebellion here. Whoever heard of a rat with a cause? We are creatures of habit; animals of instinct. There is no room for anything else and there is especially no room for a spiritual life! Why the whole order of our society would collapse if we allowed this kind of thing to go on.’
Lubin laughed angrily. ‘Order? Oh, father – the word means nothing to you! Disorder! Isn’t that what you mean? Chaos reigns in our dark little world! Chaos, hatred and despair! Sure there are a few who yearn for better things. But they have no voice in the affairs of the Brown Rats. They go unheard in the sea of greed that you call society!’
‘I love you Lubin.’ Derfael’s voice was suddenly quiet, resigned to the fact that his son was a heretic. ‘I love you. You are my firstborn. But you are a fool. I pray you survive.’ He turned to go, looking like an old rat, his shoulders hunched and his head hanging.
Lubin was sorry. But he would not go back on his word. He took a few steps forward towards his father.
‘No son,’ Leda’s voice was trembling. ‘He needs to be alone.’
Lubin’s heart was heavy. There had never been a family rift like this.
Leda placed a hand on Lubin’s shoulder. ‘Let’s talk before you go. It has been a long time since we last had anything to say to each other.’
The young rat nodded. His mother was right. It was not the time to continue with the argument.
The rat pups drew up close beside the two older rats and listened intently, hearing of old times when Lubin was their age. After the tension that had filled the nest, it felt good to hear laughter again.
Lubin helped settle his five younger siblings, kissing each of them and wishing them happy dreams.
‘Come back tomorrow, Lubin,’ the youngest rat pup begged, her tiny whiskers twitching with excitement, ‘It’s been so good having you home again.’
Lubin hugged her. ‘I’ll be back my darling. You can be sure of that.’
‘Tomorrow!’ she insisted, ‘say you will big brother!’
‘Say you will,’ echoed the others. ‘Say you will!’
‘Hush now! Let your big brother be. He is tired now. He will be back.’ Leda looked oddly doubtful. ‘He has promised you.’
The little rats scowled, but did as their mother had asked and soon all five were sleeping soundly and Leda and Lubin could talk uninterrupted.
‘Don’t judge your father too harshly,’ began Leda, gravely. ‘He cares so much for you.’
Lubin placed a comforting paw on Leda’s shoulder. ‘I didn’t think for a moment it was otherwise, Mama.’
‘You’ve never really had a chance to know your father properly,’ said Leda, sighing softly. ‘He has always been too busy trying to keep us all alive. But once upon a time, he was a young, headstrong rat… just like you.’
‘Mama, you don’t need to make excuses for him.’
‘I have too much respect to ever make excuses for your father. I merely want you to know more about him’
Lubin looked a little ashamed. ‘I meant no disrespect.’
‘Your father hasn’t always been as careful as he appears to be now,’ Leda continued. ‘There was a time when he knew nothing of caution. His high ideals were all that mattered. He stood out as a rat of courage and honor; a rat prepared to meet his enemies and to maintain his beliefs at all costs. I was younger than him and I held him in great esteem. He was always so proud, so brave. But I was very young. I could only watch from a distance whenever he walked past our nest.
‘Then one day, when I was of age, there was a gathering of the younger rats and my parents finally allowed me to meet Derfael, face to face.’ She laughed remembering her innocence. ‘I was so awkward! But Derfael was so kind. From that day on we began to see more of each other until, at last, my parents gave their permission for us to become one. Soon after, I gave birth to you and your brothers Drogo and Tully and your sisters Chilla and Par.’ She paused. ‘We hadn’t given much thought to surviving the winter. I had always relied on my parents. Now it was different. Derfael and I were responsible for five tiny lives and we knew we couldn’t fail them. We had to keep them alive at all costs.’ Leda met Lubin’s eyes. ‘Ideologies? Beliefs? They were a luxury. Your father would hunt every night for the merest scrap of food, scavenging in the farthest tunnels and even occasionally venturing to the Outworld. He learned to harden his heart against any sick or old rat he passed in the tunnels. The food had to be for his little family. Without nourishment I could not have suckled you all. We would have perished.’
Lubin fidgeted awkwardly, feeling his mother’s hurt perhaps more than he felt his own.
‘Winters are always hard, Lubin. We too saw many crimes. We heard stories we could barely believe. Our world had become a nightmare!’ Leda stopped talking and closed her eyes, and as her soft face reflected her thoughts, Lubin took her paw in his.
‘Don’t tell me anymore, Mama. I understand. Don’t cause yourself any more grief.’
The she-rat opened her eyes. ‘I needed to tell you Lubin. Both Derfael and I have done many things that have caused us shame; not in the eyes of our kin of course. But we had thought we were different and we were not. We were not strong enough to honor the Spirit of Love and the truth of the Dream.
Lubin started, with surprise. These words were taboo!
Leda’s face brightened. ‘Yes Lubin. We were followers, just as you are. Your father and I have known for some time that you have had the Dream. How could we not have seen the brilliant glow in your eyes? We have experienced all that you have been through. But we were not ready. Our courage failed us. Perhaps with you it will be different.’
Lubin shook his head. ‘I never realized.’
Leda smiled. ‘It would have been too dangerous for you to have had this knowledge as a child. Now you are of age and can take responsibility for yourself. Do not be too hard on your father.
‘You must go quickly, before you change your mind. You may have a great task before you and you should honor the Spirit that gave you the Dream.’
Leda’s eyes were filled with tears, and there was urgency in her voice, ‘My dearest son. Leave, before I beg you stay!’ She turned her back on him.
Lubin knew the time had come for him to face his destiny. Surely, though, there was a choice. But no! To stay meant a life dedicated to survival at all costs. An existence governed by instinct, a long life perhaps, but a life without true meaning. To leave the nest, to leave the great tunnels of the Brown Rats was to go blindly into an unknown world. He didn’t know what would be waiting for him beyond the perimeters of the tunnels. Perhaps he would die tomorrow, perhaps — he didn’t know. Everything he knew was right here among his fellow rats. Everything!
All at once the damp, dark tunnels with all of their risks seemed strangely safe and desirable. The sensible thing to do would be to stay and to survive. It was almost as though somebody or something had hold of him and would not let him go and yet there was a small voice within him that urged him onwards towards the light above. After what seemed like an endless struggle, the young rat moved a few steps forward. From somewhere out of the grayness he heard his father’s voice.
‘Don’t turn back now Lubin! Remember me! Don’t make my mistake. Remember your grandfather’s tales! Go!’
Lubin ran. He ran faster than he had ever done before and he kept on going until he collapsed, exhausted.
He could no longer hear the familiar sounds of his home. Gone were the busy rustlings of rats scavenging for food and nest building. Gone were their high pitched calls to each other. He was in new territory and for the first time in his life, he was alone.
CHAPTER
TWO
‘There
is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in.’
(Leonard Cohen)
****
Lubin had never
felt lonelier. His sleep had been restless, filled with unsettling
dreams and nightmares.
Lubin woke to his strange, new world, ravenously hungry and thought it curious that such a basic need should overcome any feelings of insecurity or foreboding at his new predicament.
Perhaps, he thought, he wasn’t so spiritual after all. Perhaps it was all a mistake. Yet the thought of returning home held no real prospects. Might as well give it a go, thought the young rat, after all, what have I got to lose? Quite a lot actually — yes, quite a lot! Just for starters I have a whole lifetime ahead! I’ve only just reached maturity. All red-blooded young rats, like me, should be looking for a mate or two and fighting off rivals for the she-rats’ favors!
Damn it all! I’m stronger than almost all the other he-rats of my age and I’m good looking too. If I went back now I could start from where I’d left off and pretend none of this had ever happened. I could rise to new status!
So much doubt inside! So much fear of going onward. I’m faced with the most important decision of my life! What shall I do?
Lubin’s stomach rumbled loudly and once more his thoughts turned to more gastronomic matters. He walked towards a small light at the end of a narrow tunnel. Maybe he would find something to eat; some moss perhaps or some sweet fungus. His nose twitched, sniffing low to the ground and as the mustiness of the air became sweeter he found himself sniffing a scent he had known many times before. A familiar and savory experience was awaiting him.
Cockroach!
As the young rat moved forwards, slowly now, he became more and more excited at the prospect of the meal he would soon be enjoying.
At last Lubin spotted the unsuspecting insect. It was rather plumper than normal, and he was in luck because the cockroach was dozing in the light that streamed through the grating above. This was going to be an easy kill. Lubin inched his way forward until he was just a whisker’s breadth from the fat beetle. He paused, taking in the delectable vision that lay before him. Then he gingerly picked up the cockroach. But before he could pop it into his mouth it opened its eyes, staring in shocked disbelief. For a moment it almost put the young rat off his food, but good sense prevailed and he opened his mouth again.
‘Fire! Fire!’ a shrill voice screeched.
Lubin dropped the cockroach to the ground in surprise, scanning the tunnel for the raging inferno that had invaded his mind. But glimpse of flame or sniff of smoke, there was none. Neither was there a soul to be seen, save one large cockroach desperately trying to bury itself into a rather unyielding rock.
‘It was you, wasn’t it?’ asked the rat, staring down at the pitiful creature. ‘You can speak!’
The bug gazed worriedly at the young rat.
‘Go on! Stuff your face,’ it choked. ‘You may as well. I don’t seem to have the right survival techniques. I won’t last another day anyway.’
Lubin grinned. ‘Well, well! A talking cockroach! Whatever next? Don’t worry old bug. I shan’t gobble you up. I think you’d give me indigestion now.’
‘You’re not just teasing? Because I’d rather die now than go on feeling safe and then…’ but it couldn’t go on.
‘On my honor’, said the rat. ‘Let me introduce myself. I’m Lubin. And you?’
‘And me?’ the beetle spluttered nervously. ‘I’m…I’m a cockroach.’
‘That’s obvious for the entire world to see,’ chuckled the young rat, ‘and a fine fat juicy one at that.’
The poor cockroach began to whimper.
‘Sorry!’ said Lubin as his stomach growled fiercely. ‘But you really are a wonderful example of…’
‘Don’t!’ cried the unfortunate creature. ‘Please don’t!’
Lubin shrugged, apologetically. ‘I haven’t eaten in a while!’
‘I understand,’ the cockroach said. ‘It’s just very upsetting being described as nothing more than a brief snack.’
‘But surely you have a name?’
‘My name is Narga,’ said the cockroach, breathing a little easier.
‘That’s a fine name old fellow,’ said Lubin.
‘And I’m not a male,’ Narga sounded quite miffed.
‘Come to think of it, you do look quite feminine,’ said Lubin, obviously embarrassed, ‘Something about your eyes and the pretty gloss of your fine shell-like coat.’
Still not sure of whether to trust the rat Narga was, nevertheless, oddly flattered and her beady eyes brightened.
‘Good to meet you Narga,’ said the rat, and something in his eyes made Narga smile for the first time since their strange meeting. ‘But what are you doing all on your own?’
Narga hung her little head, sadly. ‘I had some good friends once. But we were too different to the others in my tribe. In the end we were banished and –’ Narga’s voice cracked a little.
‘How sad,’ said the rat, ‘Where did your friends go?’
‘Well,’ said Narga, ‘Here’s an example. One moment you’re strolling along, minding your own business and the next moment…Crunch! Some rotten Awyuk has blessed you with a big foot and you’re thrown into the Light!’
‘Into the Light!’ echoed Lubin, ‘Into the Light!’
‘Well…that’s what I’ve heard,’ continued Narga, thoughtfully. ‘Not that I, or anybody else, really knows. But I suppose something must happen when you…’
‘Die?’ offered Lubin.
Narga nodded. ‘The others of my tribe thought nothing of life or death. Life was something you did because you had no choice. You hatched, you ate, you reproduced and finally…the dark. But we thought differently, my friends and me. There had to be something else.’
Lubin leant forward, eager for more.
‘We had heard from a wise old cat that beyond this existence there awaited a life, so bright, so brilliant. I suppose we should have kept quiet. But we wanted to share it! The others decided between them that we should be banished. I think they knew we wouldn’t last long. But perhaps my friends are luckier than me. Perhaps they are bathed in the Light at this very moment. I do hope so. I can’t bear the thought it was all in vain.’
‘Somehow I knew I would meet another,’ began Lubin. ‘Though I thought he or she would have been another of my own kind. But no matter! Let this be the beginning of a great journey for the both of us. Will you come with me? Will you travel the great tunnels and beyond? Why together we can discover the meaning of the Dream!’
‘The Dream!’ exclaimed Narga wide eyed. ‘You’ve had it too? Oh yes Lubin! I would be glad to travel with you!’
CHAPTER
THREE
‘A friend is a person with whom I
may be sincere.
Before him I may think aloud.’
(Ralph
Waldo Emerson 1803 – 1882)
****
The discovery, for both of them, that they had found fellow seekers, had been a happy one. But happy as that revelation was, there was still the immediate problem of food, especially for the rat, whose stomach would not stop rumbling.
Narga agreed that they should satisfy their appetites as soon as they were able. Being a city girl, she knew of some wondrous places and took great pleasure in telling Lubin of them.
‘Up above these tunnels, there are some amazing sights,’ she enthused. ‘We’ll have to wait a while longer, until the moon arrives and the skies are dark. Then we can explore the Great City.’
‘The Great City!’ exclaimed Lubin. ‘Why I’ve only ever heard of that place in rat mythology. It was said that Arak died there.’
‘Arak?’ questioned the cockroach.
‘Arak is a part of the Dream for some of us rat folk. He was a black rat – sworn enemies of my kind. But I remember my grandfather telling me stories about him when I was younger. My brothers and sisters and I used to sit around the old rat when the moon was up. Grandfather would hold our minds for what seemed like forever.’
‘Go on!’ urged Narga.
‘I remember a song he would sing.’ Lubin’s eyes glazed over, remembering happier days.
‘Sing it to me Lubin!’
Lubin grinned, ‘Well, I’ll have a go, though my voice isn’t exactly sweet. Singing is for the birds, eh?’
Narga laughed. She was enjoying the company of this brown rat; this predator of her own kind. It was all so peculiar and yet it seemed so right.
‘I’ve never honestly understood all of this song,’ Lubin went on. ‘Perhaps one day I will. Who knows?’ And he began to sing, very hesitantly at first because he felt awkward and self conscious. But as he sang on, his voice became stronger and he almost forgot his audience.
‘It was visions that he spoke of,
And a dream so bright and strong,
That the elders cried out “Heretic!”
And the princes shouted, “Wrong!”
‘It was friendship that he hoped for,
For the black rats and the brown,
And he told them of a future
Far beyond their little town.
‘Then he told them of a great light
That would shine in every heart,
And he spoke of magic mysteries
In which they’d all take part.
‘Well, a few brave rats went with him,
But the others cried out “Shame!”
He was the first of many,
And Prince Arak was his name.’
Narga could see by the faraway look on Lubin’s face that his mind was elsewhere. ‘The song has the ring of truth about it,’ she said. ‘Perhaps it is more than mere legend.’
‘The rats mentioned in the song really did exist, that much I know from grandfather,’ said Lubin. ‘As for the rest…who knows?’
Lubin cast Narga a smile. This strange and rather ugly beetle warmed his spirits. He had an unexplainable sense of oneness with her and a feeling that they had known each other, before. ‘But look,’ he said, ‘the moon is up and the stars have appeared and I’ve been indulging myself, prattling on about my short and uninteresting life. You must be as hungry as me by now and probably bored stiff too!’
‘Bored? Never! I’ve found another friend! But…but then I’m assuming too much! After all, I’m only a cockroach and you are a fine rat and — ’
‘Does everything have to be named? Do I have to be ‘rat’ and you ‘cockroach’? Can’t we both be soul-mates sharing this world together?’ Lubin met Narga’s eyes. ‘I would be proud to call you friend,’ he said.
****
Narga peered
through a metal grating, ‘I can see Awyuks!’ She sounded
excited. ‘We must be very near the Great City. We’ll be able
to eat our fill soon.’
‘Climb onto my back,’ said Lubin. ‘I can move quicker than you. There’s no reason why both of us should tire ourselves.’
As Lubin walked briskly along, he passed time by telling Narga of more childhood tales and she told him of life with her old tribe. Time passed quickly and soon they began to hear, what were, to Lubin, strange and terrible noises. So fearful were the sounds that he stopped in his tracks and Narga could feel him trembling.
She guessed immediately what was worrying him. ‘Don’t fret, Lubin. The sounds you hear are nothing for us to fear.’
‘But it’s like the roar of a great monster and even the ground is shaking above us!’
Narga hopped down from the rat’s back and stood confidently before him. ‘Do I look afraid? If there were really anything to fear, wouldn’t I be trembling?’
‘I…I suppose.’
Narga continued. ‘The sounds you hear are merely the sounds of dead things and — ’
‘Dead things?’ Lubin froze. His voice had a sense of panic about it. And then a sound erupted from his throat; a high pitched whistle. The sound of a brown rat in terror!
Narga jumped in surprise. ‘Lubin, no! Oh, how silly of me. I didn’t mean it at all as it sounded.’
Lubin became quiet. He was trying to control himself.
‘When I said ‘dead things’ I just meant that these things…these things aren’t actually alive.’
Lubin eyes widened further. ‘Not alive?’
‘They are just things – not beings. They have never been alive. They have no heartbeat, no brain, no feeling and no soul. They are merely objects.’
The rat appeared somewhat comforted, but puzzled. ‘But Narga, they move! How can dead things move?’
Narga shrugged, ‘I’m only a beetle and not at all sure of a great many things. I know the Awyuks control them somehow. They call them ‘cars’. An old feline friend of mine tried to explain it once. The Awyuks use them to travel in. They come in all the colors of the rainbow and they have hard, shiny shells. They look a bit like beetles really, but huge. They’re very powerful and they move very quickly. They travel on pathways called roads. But they can’t think. They really are just objects and they can’t hurt you.’ She paused awhile, in thought. ‘Well, they can hurt you – accidentally. Every now and then, in the Great City, you’ll see a squashed bird or cat. These ‘cars’ can’t stop quickly. You just have to be careful of them and keep your distance.’
Lubin’s breathing slowed to almost normal.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Narga. ‘I never thought …that’s my trouble really. I just don’t think! The Great City is my home and — ’
‘Don’t stress Narga,’ said Lubin. ‘The things I take for granted would, no doubt, be strange and even horrifying to you.’
‘Perhaps there are other things I should tell you before we travel on.’
‘Perhaps,’ agreed the rat.
‘I’ll keep it short,’ said Narga, ‘or your belly may get the better of you and I may end up satisfying those rumblings yet!’
The two laughed together and Narga began to tell Lubin of many other weird and wonderful experiences he would soon be having in the huge metropolis above.
‘Come rebel rat,’ she said, finally. ‘It is time to savor new things. Are you ready?’
Lubin nodded.
‘Forward then!’ exclaimed the cockroach. ‘In search of truth, in search of the Light, in search of the unknown…’
‘In search of food!’ Announced the rat.
****
As the two friends neared the opening of a storm water drain, the noises and smells of the Great City grew ever greater. The din of traffic, people, dogs and all the other things that make up a city seemed like one continuous drone to Lubin, but he began to gradually pick out the separate sounds. Looking out at the new world that lay before him, his eyes fixed on one thing, then another, his face changing from astonishment to amusement.
Together, the two creatures watched the Great City buzzing with life. The night sky hazy with blue smoke from the traffic and the many colored lights sparkling and shimmering in competition with the silver stars and soft gold moon above.
Lubin turned to his little friend and smiled widely. ‘What an amazing place!’
‘My birthplace, my home,’ said Narga, pleased with his reaction, and suddenly Lubin lifted her high into the air, dancing and twirling her around and around.
‘We’ve made it!’ he cried happily, ‘We have reached the Great City!’ And he laughed and laughed, while Narga watched the lights whizz into a rainbow haze as she was spun again and again.
The young rat and his friend collapsed into a dizzy heap and lay for a moment or two on the ground; but not for long. Soon they were back on their feet and making their way out of the drain and onto the busy road, the traffic roaring past them and the wind touching their faces. But this time Lubin was not afraid. This time he was ready.
Lubin kept close against the walls of the buildings, which seemed to him to touch the sky. It was hard for him to take everything in. Every sense was invaded by the wonder of the Great City. It was difficult too not to be hypnotized by the lights, twinkling like many colored jewels all around. But he kept his mind on Narga’s words as together they traveled the city streets.
Soon Lubin sensed a change of mood in Narga. ‘Turn at the next corner,’ she said excitedly, ‘We’ll stop awhile to eat.’
Lubin needed no second command; for he could smell food wafting on the breeze, and his mouth had begun to water at the many aromas that had met his sensitive nose. So many different foods — and he didn’t recognize any of them! But they all smelt scrumptious!
At the back entrance of a large hotel, the sight that greeted the two friends was almost more than Lubin could believe. Five enormous metal garbage bins overflowed with leftovers from the hotel kitchens. The odor was extraordinary and in no time the two were attacking everything they could put their mouths to. Lubin had no idea what he was actually eating. All he knew, or cared about, was that the gnawing pain in his stomach was fast disappearing and that his taste buds were enjoying the most delightful experience in his short life.
They stuffed themselves on the myriad delicacies that lay scattered on the ground: crusts of poppy seed bread, soft pink pate; fruits of all colors and textures; cream covered cakes and pastries, meats of all sorts, fish heads, lobster claws, vegetables of all kinds and so many other varieties of food that Lubin’s head was spinning at the sheer wonder of it all! He ran around from scrap to scrap, taking bites from everything and savoring every mouthful. When at last he had eaten his fill he quenched his thirst on fruit juice and the two friends lay together in a little heap, full and content, grinning at each other with satisfaction.
‘And I thought I could eat!’ exclaimed Narga. ‘You glutton! I’ve never seen so much food disappear so quickly into one body!’
Lubin laughed. ‘You didn’t do too badly yourself, old girl! I only hope we can move after all this.’
Narga giggled. ‘We should rest awhile. But it’s not safe to stay in one place too long. There are dogs and cats to beware of — to say nothing of the Awyuks and the rats! Oops! No offence, but not all rats are as friendly as you.’
Lubin grinned, ‘I couldn’t agree more,’ he said.
Narga led Lubin to a
little opening in the wall of the restaurant, just big enough for the
two to squeeze inside comfortably. And there they slept until they
were ready to venture further.
****
‘Good grief!’ exclaimed the rat, waking with a start. ‘How long have we slept?’
‘A lot longer than I meant us to,’ confessed the cockroach. ‘I don’t like to stay in one place for too long. Our scent could be picked up by a stray cat. But luckily, we have just enough time left to find a really safe place before daybreak.’
Lubin heaved a sigh of relief, well aware that once the sun had risen it would be too dangerous to carry on with their journey.
Narga climbed onto Lubin’s back and directed them, once more, through the city streets, the feelings of excitement and expectation high in both of them.
Suddenly, Narga ordered Lubin to stop.
She scanned the area ahead. ‘Just a little further and we’ll be on safe ground. A few moments more and I shall be introducing you to a very old and special friend.’ Her voice trembled with anticipation.
Soon they came to a narrow cobbled alley, lit not by the sharp brightness of the main road’s neon lights, but by the softer, golden glow of aging street lamps. The place seemed curiously quiet after the busy street they had just left for there were no vehicles apart from a rickety bicycle propped up against a wall.
Lubin’s nose was again assaulted by an array of strange aromas. ‘We’re here!’ voiced Narga, happily. ‘We’re here.’ And sliding down Lubin’s silky snout, she landed clumsily, on the cobbles below. ‘Can you smell that!’ she exclaimed, more than questioned. And then she leapt high into the air, landing with a small thud beside him. ‘Oh Lubin! It’s Mushroom!’
‘Mushroom?’ queried Lubin. ‘What’s so special about mushrooms? They are quite tasty, I suppose, but we’ve just eaten fit to burst!’
‘No, no! It’s my friend, Mushroom Borlotti, the Italian restaurant cat. See! He’s dozing under that tree over there.’ And she turned to Lubin with a wide grin. But at the first mention of the word ‘cat’ Lubin had disappeared leaving Narga staring dumbly at a brick wall.
‘I’ve done it again!’ exclaimed the beetle, irritably, and she peered around anxiously, hoping to catch a glimpse of the rat to convince him that all was well.
‘Where are you Lubin? No need to worry. Mushroom is a very friendly cat. And…and he’s a vegetarian!’ She paused, hoping for some sign of life. There was none. Narga sighed, ‘I could kick myself. It really is safe. Honestly.’ She glanced around; sure the young rat could hear her.
Suddenly, she heard a rustling and looking up to one of the restaurant windows, she saw her friend, peering from the midst of a prolific display of scarlet geraniums that grew from a wooden window box. A small flower dangled over one ear. His face held a wary expression and he looked quite pathetic.
Narga tried very hard not to laugh. But it was more than she could bear. ‘Oh Lubin,’ she choked. ‘You look ridiculous!’ And she fell about catching her breath in short gasps, laughing until her sides ached.
‘Well, thank you very much!’ the rat yelled indignantly, his fear forgotten.
‘Careful!’ teased Narga. ‘The cat might hear you!’
Lubin thrust his head through the flowers, his eyes blazing with indignation. But suddenly aware of how absurd he looked, Lubin began to chuckle too; slowly at first and then he burst into raucous laughter and the two friends roared together, pausing only to catch their breath.
‘I need to pay more attention to explaining things more clearly,’ said Narga, finally.
‘But I should have known better,’ said Lubin. ‘I don’t believe you would ever lead me into harm’s way…well, not deliberately anyway.’
‘Thank you Lubin,’ said the cockroach, touched by his trust and she hurried forwards, her feelers twitching with excitement with Lubin following, hoping after all that he was doing the right thing and all the while the smell of cat becoming stronger.
At last they were so close to the sleeping tomcat that Lubin could feel the warmth of Mushroom’s breath. Narga eagerly clambered up to his nose and pulled one of his whiskers, tugging a little harder when the cat showed no signs of moving.
Mushroom opened one emerald eye very slowly, obviously trying hard to focus. Then, with instant recognition, he opened the other eye.
‘Bella! Bella!’ he exclaimed. ‘Little Narga, my dear friend. Ciao bambina!’
Narga giggled. ‘Hello, Mushroom. Long time no see!’
‘Too long,’ agreed the cat, ‘And who have we here? You’ve brought a little amico to see me. No?’
Lubin studied the huge cat very cautiously. Mushroom was the biggest cat he had ever seen — the size of a not so small dog! His ginger fur had been bright once, but there were only a few patches of real red left. The rest of him was a more faded orange and he was graying around the mouth.
‘This is my new friend! Lubin,’ began the cockroach. ‘And Lubin, this is Mushroom Borlotti — one of my first real friends outside my tribe.’
‘I’m pleased to make your acquaintance,’ said Lubin, bowing formally.
‘And I am delighted to meet you too Lubin,’ beamed Mushroom. ‘If you have little Narga as your friend, you can count me as your friend also.’
****
And so began a strange and special friendship – the fellowship of a brown rat and an old ginger tomcat. But no stranger, Lubin supposed than that of a brown rat and a cockroach, or of a cockroach and a cat called Mushroom.
CHAPTER
FOUR
‘Peace like a river ran through the city,
Long past the midnight curfew
We sat starry-eyed.
We were satisfied.’
(Paul Simon – ‘Peace Like a River.’)
****
Lubin and Narga
rested contentedly in the basement of the restaurant. Lubin’s
sleep was deep and dreamless and he woke full of vigor, ready for
anything the world had to offer him.
He stretched and yawned, curiously sniffing the air, his eyes becoming acclimatized to the dingy basement. And as Narga still slept and Mushroom was nowhere to be seen, Lubin took the opportunity to investigate the place.
The room was small, and the air a little musty. Sawdust covered the terracotta floor. Dappled sunlight filtered through a tiny window at the top of the far wall, beneath which various wooden and cardboard boxes were placed. A wine rack half covered in cobwebs sat beside huge flagons of olive oil. Assorted green herbs and garlic hung side by side with strings of white and purple onions and golden shallots.
The restaurant had sprung into life and Lubin could hear human voices and the clattering of crockery above him. He walked over to the sleeping cockroach, feeling fortunate to have found such a companion. Now he had another ally in Mushroom and as he was thinking how well things were going, Narga woke.
‘Good sleep?’ enquired the rat.
‘Brilliant!’ exclaimed Narga, preening her feelers. ‘There’s nothing quite like a bit of healthy inactivity to revitalize the old joints. I feel almost young again.’
‘There’s a lot of movement above,’ said Lubin. ‘Nothing for us to worry about I hope?’
Narga smiled reassuringly. ‘Mushroom’s people have begun work. Just stay out of sight if you hear them coming down the stairs. They may need some wine or some bottled tomatoes.’
‘And talking of food,’ said Lubin. ‘I’m beginning to feel a little peckish again.’
Just then there came the sound of a creaking door and a man’s voice. ‘What’s the matter, you old tomcat? Why are you in such a panic to get down there? You want to chase mice, eh?’ A cheery laugh followed and a deep purr and the sound of the door softly closing. The soft padding of cat’s paws down the wooden steps followed and then a familiar voice.
‘It is okay bambinos! It is only me — Mushroom!’ The old cat’s eyes gleamed in the dusty gloom. ‘You slept well? Yes?’
The two friends nodded together. ‘We had a lovely rest, thank you!’ Said Narga.
‘That is very good,’ Mushroom smiled like a Cheshire cat. ‘You are hungry now?’
‘Famished,’ said Lubin eagerly.
Mushroom seemed amused. ‘There is nothing quite like a rat’s appetite! And we will have to satisfy it or else you may end up chewing the electrical wires … or worse.’ He nudged Lubin playfully. ‘But no doubt you’d prefer some ripe cheese or a little smoked meat? Am I right, ratto?’
Lubin grinned sheepishly.
‘It is getting dark and soon it is safe to go outside. Then you will eat. Not long to wait now, my friend.’
‘It’s really decent of you to help us like this,’ said the young rat. ‘I just hope I can pay you back one day.’
Mushroom’s brow furrowed slightly. ‘No need to pay back, amico. It is good to have friends.’
‘I’ve offended you!’ groaned Lubin.
‘No, no! I am just a little touchy sometimes. It is a cat’s nature.’ Mushroom patted the rat affectionately with a white paw. We have a lot of talking to do – a lot of thoughts to share.’
‘I’ve missed you, Mushroom,’ said Narga quietly. ‘It’s been a long time.’
‘It has been a long time for me too bambina. But we will make up for it! We will talk and talk and talk some more!’ The old cat sat beside Narga and she snuggled into his soft fur, giggling delightedly.
Lubin marveled at the closeness between the friends as he listened to them reminiscing over old times. And as the sun began to set, the sky changed from yellow to orange and through to red and purple, slowly sinking and finally disappearing behind the city skyline. One by one the stars appeared and together with the silver crescent moon they lit the evening sky. All through the Great City things were changing. Brightly lit signs appeared and as night creatures emerged the animals of the day hid themselves away.
In the restaurant the comings and goings continued. Mouth-watering smells of pasta and garlic wafted down the rickety stairs. Then another sound emerged; the soft strumming of a classical guitar and a young man’s velvet voice singing a winsome love song. Lubin tilted his head from one side to the other, his tail twitching in time to the beat, mesmerized by the melody. Narga chuckled, quietly remembering the first time she had heard the beautiful music of the Awyuks.
But abruptly Lubin’s tranquility was brought to an end by the sound of dogs fighting; a terrible, menacing growling and the sound of raised voices.
‘Mama Mia!’ cried Mushroom, ‘He is at it again!’
Lubin’s ears went flat against his head and the hair on his back stood up in a bristly line.
‘It is okay ratto!’ assured Mushroom, ‘It is just Torbo. He is the dog of the house and he loves a good scrap’
‘He hasn’t calmed down then,’ said Narga, knowingly.
Mushroom shook his head. ‘Torbo? He may never calm down. But what do you expect, eh? He is a dog after all. Ah, but that is unfair of me, it is just…’ he shrugged resignedly.
‘Just what?’ asked Lubin.
‘Oh, you know dogs! Aggressive, smelly, impetuous…and Torbo is a real dog. But I guess his heart is in the right place.’
Just at that moment the door at the top of the stair creaked open and a man’s voice yelling obscenities was heard, followed by a terrible thump, thump, thump and a loud yelping as Torbo bounced inelegantly down the rickety steps.
‘And you stay down there!’ the man’s voice came again. ‘Stupid mongrel!’
The smell of dog permeated the cellar and the sound of shameful whining.
Bruised and shame faced, Torbo sprawled at the bottom of the steps, licking his wounds with a long tongue, oblivious to the friends. He was far too preoccupied with his own problems. Sighing mournfully, he stared sadly into the gloom. Only then did he see the rat, staring back at him and as a low growl began deep in the dog’s throat Mushroom leapt swiftly between them.
‘Enough!’ roared Mushroom, his rose colored nose touching Torbo’s big black one, eyeball to eyeball.
‘The rat is an amico — a friend. You understand, no?’
‘You’re friends with a rat?’ yapped Torbo incredulously.
‘He is one of us! You understand?’
‘If you say so matey,’ Torbo scratched his ear slowly with a huge paw.
‘This rat is a good friend of Narga’s.’
Torbo’s jowls lifted slightly when he saw Narga, and his tail began to wag madly.
Mushroom gave Torbo a warning look. ‘Lubin, this is Torbo….Torbo – Lubin. It has not been a good start, but things will improve.’
Torbo gave Lubin an awkward grin. ‘Force of habit really. Sometimes I just can’t help myself. Sorry mate – what more can I say?’
Lubin grinned back. ‘You had a natural reaction – instinct; and by my whiskers I know how hard it can be to deal with instincts. Sometimes we ignore them at our peril and at other times we can overreact.’
‘Then we’ll say no more about it, eh?’ the dog loped over to the rat.
Lubin smiled broadly.
‘Formalities over!’ said the ginger cat. ‘Time for eating!’
‘I’m starved,’ moaned Torbo.
‘You’re in the doghouse, Torbo and if our people had anything to do with it you’d have no supper!’ Mushroom gave Torbo a stern look. ‘But… I will bring you something…as usual.’
Torbo wagged his tail gratefully.
Mushroom nodded towards a fraying rope that hung from the open window. ‘Up we go!’ he said, as the others followed him. ‘And do be quiet, Torbo.’
‘Don’t be long though will you Mush? And if there’s any osso bucco – can you get me some?’ the dog thought some more, ‘and a bit of veal escallop wouldn’t go amiss.’ His jowls began to drip expectantly.
‘Okay,’ murmured the cat, halfway up the rope.
‘And if there’s any spaggers…’specially the bolognaise rather than the Neapolitan – because I do like my meat and — ’
‘You will eat whatever I throw down to you!’ Mushroom exploded.
Torbo hung his head, ‘Sorry,’ he breathed.
****
The garbage bins were directly outside the window and they were brimming with vegetable peelings and fine Italian cuisine. Lubin licked his lips in anticipation as thick tomato sauce crept slowly down one side of a bin.
‘Enjoy!’ Mushroom invited. ‘There is plenty for everyone…but if I may suggest…the ravioli.’
‘The what?’ queried Lubin.
‘Or the vegetarian lasagna,’ continued Mushroom. ‘That should be extra good tonight. Alfredo is the chef today and that is his specialty – firm sheets of green pasta covered with a rich cheese sauce and oozing ripe tomatoes and finely chopped mushrooms.’
‘This peoples’ food is very fancy,’ said Lubin.
‘And very fattening too,’ said Mushroom, patting his rounded belly.
Lubin, overwhelmed at the array of delicacies, and the waste of it, turned to Narga for advice but she was already tucking into a large pool of melting strawberry gelato.
At last Lubin decided on the lasagna. Mushroom pushed a large veal bone down through the window to the waiting dog, who quietly barked his approval.
Mushroom watched the two friends gorge themselves, with some amusement. The rat ended the meal with a small slice of watermelon and while Narga continued to nibble on a little parmesan cheese, Lubin also took the opportunity to groom, licking his small paws scrupulously clean and stroking his soft brown fur until it gleamed beneath the street lamp. The old cat had never realized rats could be so particular with personal hygiene and he was impressed.
Finally the three returned to the basement to begin some serious talking. Mushroom kept his promise to Torbo, bringing some succulent spaghetti bolognaise, which the dog demolished in a blink, belching his appreciation loudly.
‘It is good to have a new friend,’ said Mushroom.
‘Sure is!’ agreed Torbo, ‘Handsome young fella…for a rat.’
It was a far cry from the fierce reception Lubin had first encountered from the tenacious Torbo. But there was obviously more to the dog than first impressions.
Outside the world carried on living, the hustle and bustle of the Great City never ceasing. Within the cellar walls, the friends snuggled together, Torbo resting between Mushroom and Lubin, and Narga nestled deep within Mushroom’s fur. And as Lubin listened he learned of the others’ meeting, a chance meeting in the very same cellar.
Narga had been hiding one sultry summer evening, taking refuge within a gloomy corner and Torbo had come upon her; impetuous, aggressive Torbo, thrown yet again into the cellar for some wanton scrap. He was upset, he was indignant and he was angry. If another dog had been unlucky enough to have found himself within Torbo’s reach, there would have been another inglorious fight. But luckily for Narga, she was not a dog, and the wounded hound was in bad need of sympathy. As they came face to face, before Torbo had time to even think about it, Narga had said a quick ‘Hi there!’ Astonishment replaced anger and in moments Narga was soothing the tough mongrel’s hurt pride with her own special brand of sympathy and a very queer sort of friendship was struck up, which had naturally included Mushroom.
‘Friendship is a wonderful thing,’ murmured Mushroom.
‘I can hardly believe we’re all friends,’ said Lubin. ‘It seems so peculiar. We’re all so very different. Not one of us is even the same species.’
Torbo looked thoughtful. ‘Most of us only ever seem to be able to talk to our own, walk with our own — but you and me Lubin — we’ve got more in common than I might ever have with the dog up the road! We’re free thinkers. Know what I mean?’
Lubin nodded. ‘But it isn’t normal is it? And it seems strange to have more in common with a dog, or a cockroach than with one of my own kind.’
Mushroom shrugged, ‘Who wants to be normal?’
‘Certainly not you Mush,’ Torbo, gave a mischievous grin.
‘You should know!’ said Mushroom, cuffing Torbo playfully around the head.
‘None of us are perfect,’ muttered the dog, giving a little laugh. ‘But everyone here is a seeker of Love…and Light.’
Lubin’s ears perked up. ‘The Light,’ he said. ‘With most of my folk, the word is taboo.’ He turned to Narga. ‘You spoke of it the first time we met. My grandfather and mother talked of it. But what is it?’
‘Perhaps the greatest mystery in the Universe,’ began Mushroom. ‘Many search for the Light. All who search for it strive to treat others as they would want to be treated themselves. But there is more.’
‘More?’
‘Much more amico.’
‘And have all who seek this Light had the Dream?’
‘Whether they seek the Light or not, all beings have the Dream…sooner or later…every living thing on the face of this Earth.
Lubin gasped.
‘I too was surprised by such a revelation,’ admitted Mushroom. ‘I was told this by another friend, a powerful and good man. The Watchman. You shall meet him later,’ Mushroom washed a paw, thoughtfully. ‘It was he who told me that some are afraid of the Dream… and that others try to use it with evil intention. Yet there are some who embrace the Dream and recognize it as a path which will lead them to something greater.’
‘Is it a hard path to follow?’ asked Lubin.
Mushroom smiled, knowingly. ‘For me it is harder to close my eyes and stumble.’
Lubin nodded. ‘I could not ignore it. Though there were times when I wished I had.’
‘Soon you will meet others, who are on the same path,’ the cat went on. ‘But I must warn you that those who try to bend the Truth are believed by many. They are very dangerous, young friend.’
Mushroom’s voice had become very quiet. ‘Among your own kind you have had a great seeker. Perhaps you have heard of him. His name was Arak.’
Mushroom gave a small chuckle, as Lubin gasped with surprise. ‘You will be more surprised by what I have to say next,’ he said stretching and turning around to settle more comfortably.
Torbo and Narga moved closer to Mushroom. Mushroom was a good story teller and Torbo was looking forward to hearing the old tale again.
‘Like all youngsters, I was young and impetuous,’ began Mushroom. ‘The night sky was clear and the stars twinkled like fireflies. The full moon lit the alley so that everything in it cast a strong shadow. My belly was full and all was well. I sat on the window sill of the restaurant listening to music and watching my people talking to old friends.
Suddenly, the peace was broken by a great hullabaloo and into the alley rushed a huge black rat. He was the swiftest rat I had ever encountered. But he had not been swift enough because he left a trail of blood and following close behind him ran an enormous tabby cat.’
Lubin was so engrossed he seemed to have stopped breathing.
‘I recognized the tabby immediately,’ went on Mushroom. ‘His name was Magyah – a cat without people and a roamer of the city streets. He was the terror of the city. But I had not yet lost any of my nine lives.’ Mushroom gave a little laugh. ‘And I was a pretty tasty fighter in those days too!’
‘I love a good scrap,’ Torbo interrupted. ‘I wish I’d seen it all!’
Mushroom, glanced at Torbo, with amusement, ‘I threw myself between the cat and the fleeing rat. It was far more important to protect my territory from another cat than to catch a quick snack that I didn’t even need!’
Lubin recoiled at the thought of being a brief nibble for a cat.
‘Oh, Mushroom,’ said Narga her eyes bright with anticipation. ‘You were very brave.’
‘Perhaps more foolish than brave, little one,’ said Mushroom. ‘I fought like I had never fought before. The fur flew! If my people had not intervened, I may have lost my eyes to the city terror! As it was, I escaped with a torn ear, a bloody face and a badly hurt pride – and perhaps one life lost!’ Mushroom turned his head, displaying a deep scar behind his ear.
Torbo laughed loudly, ‘I know how you feel, Mush!’
Mushroom continued. ‘Although Magyah was afraid of no other cat, he was afraid of people and he ran from the alley in panic! There was a loud screeching and a man’s voice shouting. Poor Magyah was spread all over the main road, which was probably just as well for me for the great tabby was no ordinary cat. He was a follower of the Shadows and sooner or later he or one of his followers would have been back for me.’
Mushroom paused once more, deep in thought, while the others waited patiently, eyes wide in anticipation.
‘And if Magyah was no ordinary cat, then Arak was certainly no ordinary rat.’
Lubin’s eyes grew ever wider. To hear of Arak from someone who had actually seen him was almost more than he could believe. What luck!
Mushroom carried on, ‘As I lay beneath the street lamp nursing my wounds and my pride, I was suddenly aware of a presence and turning to look behind me, I saw him again. That rat! Arak!’
Lubin clasped his paws to his face eager for more and he wished, a little sadly, that his mother and father had been able to hear the tale.
‘Something I cannot explain stopped me from attacking this rat,’ continued Mushroom. ‘There was a feeling in the air, a tingling inside my head and as I peered into his eyes I saw a golden light, so deep there appeared no end to it.’
‘My grandfather said something about a golden glow in Arak’s eyes too!’ exclaimed Lubin. ‘I wish he could be here now!’
‘I was looking at no ordinary rat,’ continued Mushroom. ‘I couldn’t move. I could only wonder at this strange being, as the shimmering light grew brighter. Then Arak broke the silence, speaking to me in a voice both strong and gentle, thanking me for having helped him, albeit accidentally. Then he smiled and I was no longer afraid. Something deep inside had awakened and from that moment on I began to look at everything differently.’
‘What happened then?’ prompted Lubin eager to hear more of the mythical hero.
Mushroom smiled, ‘He asked me my name and then he told me his. Then he gave a little laugh and said ‘Sweet dreams young cat,’ and he vanished into the night, leaving me wondering.
‘I fell asleep then and when I woke I understood the meaning of Arak’s words. For that night I had ‘The Dream’ – a vision of such joy – but you all know how it is.’
The others smiled their understanding.
‘I never saw Arak again,’ there was a kind of yearning in the old cat’s voice. ‘But everything had changed for me. Even now, each day brings new revelations…some big…some small. My learning never stops. Life is a great adventure and the Dream is as strong, in my heart, as my first glimpse of it.’
There was a long silence, finally broken by Torbo. ‘Fantastic really! Woofing marvelous.’ And he yawned, stretching his strong white legs, turning round and round, as dogs do, before settling down for the night.
But the other three, being true night animals, continued to talk, until finally, the sun began to appear over the tops of the gray buildings. All of the friends slept then and they dreamt of the possible, and the probable and even the probably impossible.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘Somewhere
over the rainbow,
Skies are blue,
And the dreams that you dare
to dream
Really do come true.’
(Frank Baum)