The Silence of the Rats

Part 3

	The Brisby home was a lonely and cold place that night.  Elizabeth came home wrinkled shawl and mangled fur covered with sweat in a daze of disbelief of the events that had taken place.  Her shawl reeked with the decay of rotting bodies from the morgue and hated it, not because she had ruined it but for having to ride in this beautiful Mustang that a friend lent her for the long journey.  Being a convertible as it was, not to mention how old it was which she loved trolling in with the top down was in great shape and well taken care of only made the drive harder.  It wasn’t because where she was coming from or for what the purpose of her trip but had to sit in this beautiful car and leave the scent of doomed rats then give it back to her friend.  But there’s little point of worrying about it now seeing she was already home and worrying would only make the night even more unpleasant.  Elizabeth met Jay, the owner of the Mustang, at a car show in a small town in Southern Maryland where he lived.  Elizabeth always had a passion for older cars; her children found themselves in love with an Orange Charger that these two cousins drove around a certain county.  And who would blame them, Elizabeth too had a crush on the blonde cousin and she was sure at least one of her children did too.  She didn’t like to go to far from home but she was drawn in, besides, the show was on the town square making it the ideal spot.  There she ate at Nonk and Monks, the local restaurant then went joyriding with Jay and the police commissioner with her in the back seat.  Jay did mentioned to his new friend if you ever needed a car, you can always depend on Traveller as it was called.
Now she wished she had a better car, a 1967 Mustang Convertible wasn’t a car you want to drive to a morgue and back.  But the drive to the morgue was a rather long, being out in the country did have it’s disadvantages so she went ahead and phoned Jay and asked for his noble steed.  Like the previous night, Auntie Shrew babysat the Brisby children, she sat at the end of the couch and as usual was staring at the coffee table moaning and bitching to herself.  When Elizabeth came home that night, she literately jumped off the couch and started their usual argument about how terrible the rats were.  Elizabeth listened to this for nearly an hour before the shrew stormed off still in complaint.  Mrs. Brisby could only shake her head at their aunt’s ungratefulness.  Will she ever learn what the rats were like-what they done for the family?  The thought turned in Elizabeth’s head but removed it, there was the matter of housework she’d been neglecting.  Since she volunteered for this assignment, the amount of dishes continued to build in the sink and the business of washing the childrens’ delicates which had to be done.  Very eager to shower, Elizabeth undressed putting her beloved cape in the washer, turned the knobs for the tap and slipped in.  Oh sure there were other things to be done, since Elizabeth been out, the usual daily chores had also been uncared for.  The usual dusting and vacuuming awaited for her return but decided against it seeing it was getting on to midnight.  Liked it or not, the rat silencer was scheduled to report on duty sharply at six o’clock the next morning. But now letting the water run and lathering soap over her body, Elizabeth enjoyed her stress free moment, she did however did wondered over Jay’s Mustang whether if the interior stained of the stench of chopped rats but there wasn’t much she could do.  Jay, being open-minded as he was, was the only human that didn’t freak and run screaming at the sight of her.  I mean everywhere she went out-which was rare every soul on the street would ether drop what they were doing and stare or as I said, ran or faint.  This proven to be a nuisance, needing to go in public now and again did had its draw backs, she did needed to pick a few things time to time, no one could live off vegetables alone.  Moving on to her hair, Elizabeth considered asking Jay if he could run her errands but quickly disregarded that thought putting it aside as she did with the other.  That would be asking to much from him; living on a farm out in the country and Jay living in a small residential area, it would be virally impossible for her friend to drive all that way even in his noble steed no matter how stylish it may be.  She just had to settle hiding in the shadows whenever she needed to be in public which was a pain but what are ya gonna do?  After showering Elizabeth stood under the water to rinse before wrapping a towel around herself and stepped out.  The hard tilled floor felt cool under her hind paws as she went to her bedroom to redress.  That done she went ahead with the dishes before checking on her shawl and her children and retired to bed.

     Bullets ripped through the paper targets for what they were.  Elizabeth reported to Justin in the guardhouse promptly at six as scheduled, from there they headed to the shooting range with the others.  Now not only the thought of why am I doing this and or why did I accept this assignment ran through her mind but what am I doing with this gun ran through her mind as well.  Is there an answer to this madness Elizabeth was putting herself through, if there was, it strayed from her and that what bothered her most of all.  It only takes a sight of a needle-no make that, the mentioning of the word needle would and will make her fur stand at end.  These thoughts ran in circles for a moment longer until the mouse removed them as she put a fresh clip in the 440 that lay heavily in her paws.  Somewhere off on the far wall, the sound of cursing could be heard loudly when a gun misfired.  That’s another thing Elizabeth noticed, whenever a gunrat made a mistake or a stray bullet was called, the shooter took it out on him or herself.  She could understood the bullets, one might ricochet and hit a fellow rat.  But was that the reason they use blanks or rubber pallets, just in case someone does get hit?  Yes of course, someone getting hit at a shooting range is probably more common then most people realized.  But still, wasn’t the point of going to the range?  To work on your marksmanship?  Elizabeth considered this and that for another moment longer then also put that aside as she reloaded and fired when a fresh target came into view.  The gunmouse only could get a few shots in when Alastair, the Lieutenant of the guards came behind her.  He was a good-sized rat well built and appeared to be thirty-two by the looks of his features.  By his outer garments, wearing the usual guard uniform; a guard vest over a blue or white tunic, it’s assumed by Brisby he was a well if not a very respected rat.
“How things proceeding?” he asked reaching Elizabeth.  Slightly startled from the voice, Elizabeth dropped the revolver and turned to face her visitor taking her earplugs out.  “Excuse me?” she noted to him.
“I asked how you were doing?”
“Oh..” she noised now fully aware of Alastair’s presence, “I just got from the morg last night.  Apparently, they recovered a body from the Mississippi River and I went over to examine it.”
This somewhat disturbed the rat, tilting his head a bit he came in the booth with her not sure what to say.  He stood there for what seemed a minute wanting to say something comforting, not to Elizabeth but to himself.  The truth was, he didn’t like the idea of Mrs. Brisby dealing with the dead, not only he never cared for bodies himself but this case brought his own quarries of why she took the mission.
“Mrs. Brisby,” he said not sure or if he wanted to continue the conversation, “I’m not sure going through with this assignment is right for you.”
The mouse now holstered the pistol turning toward the opened space that occupied the range.   She knew he was right, deep down, Elizabeth hated what she was doing but considering how far she had gone, there’s no possible way she could turn back now.  She frowned, “Yes I know,” she said turning to the Lieutenant trying to find the right words.  “But I was the only one Nicodemus could trust after everyone in the colony ran at the mentioning of NIMH.”
Alastair could only agree to the comment, he himself ran cowardly as soon NIMH reached his ears.  He continued to stand there, straightening his vest then nodded, “I see your point Mrs. Brisby.” the guard said matter of facty.  “I too ran and hid when Nicodemus asked me.” he added.  Elizabeth couldn’t help but chuckle knowing he did, matter of fact, since she got back to Thorn Valley from NIMH she was stopped by someone wanting to congratulate her and while at it, confess their fear.  It was getting tedious, being the second day, Elizabeth longed for privacy but so far, no counts for an end was seen.  They stood in silence for a moment longer until Alastair broke it, “How’s the children?” he asked trying to lighten the ausmophare in the booth where they were standing.
“Oh they’re doing fine,” she repeated, “Teresa’s excited about coming here and as usual Martin moping around complaining about it.”
It was the guard’s turn to laugh, all of the rats in the colony knew the Brisbys well.  Alastair stumbled in his laughter leaning forward, placing a paw on the wall; he struggled to stable himself.  After about a minute of hysterical laughter, the guard finally got it under control, he rested with unsteady legs at first then caught his balance and walked back to Elizabeth still giggling.  Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the comment, a few of the rats she talked to and told this did laugh but not to the point of total chaos.  This annoyed Elizabeth of course, every man-err-rat in this case should respect a woman.  But of curse, she hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting Alastair, Justin did introduce them but never had the chance to properly get aquatinted.  But now when they met, Elizabeth wished for better circumstances.  All she could do is to stand and let the unsteadiness of the comment pass.   After it did, Elizabeth return her attention to the guard before her, “Well it isn’t that funny..” was all Brisby could say.  Rude comments wasn’t Brisby’s best department, having to listen to Auntie Shrew’s rambling was bad enough but listening to this was another matter all together.  
“I’m sorry if I upset you.” Alastair said trying to take back the rudiness of before.  He leaned against the wall with his back against it now looking innocent.  The unsteadiness returned as quickly, if not, quicker as it developed.  Rolling her eyes a bit more turning her attention back to the range so not to arouse suspicion, Elizabeth paused, then, “I’m sure you didn’t mean anything Alastair.  Others did laugh when I told them about Martin, it’s just he seems to be the one who gets the most,” Elizabeth paused trying to find the appropriate word.  Alastair, sill leaning against the wall turned his gaze on her.  Elizabeth continued her distant look among the grass that the shooting range was.  The distant sound of firing boom around them as they went along in their conversation.
“He’s the one who gets the most attention.” Elizabeth finally said returning to the guard.  He nodded an agreement knowing Martin’s reputation quite well despite he never met the mouse but Alastair doesn’t need to.  It’s funny, at times you don’t need to meet a person but yet, you know everything or almost everything about him or her.  Is that the way you find true love?  By meeting a person that you seem to know all your life?  Possibly, but love is known to pop up when you least expected and could happen to strangers that run into each other on the street, although I would avid those romances counting the deaths they tend to lead.  
Alastair backed away turning, putting his back to Elizabeth, he stared upward not really focusing much of anything.  It occurred to her he was drawing out the conversation or perhaps trying to stall her for he was pretty sure what the young mouse is up to, and he had a good reason to fear.  It wasn’t everyday you see a pretty little mouse such as Mrs. Brisby going all out trying to bring a homicidal maniac to justice and he too concerned for Elizabeth.  She started to fidget with her paws while she stood before the guard looking hard upward at him.  A feeling of uneasy and somewhat annoyance came over Elizabeth as Alastair continued his long, hard gaze.  Not being able to bare the silent rat any longer, the mouse finally broke the deadful silence, “If that was all you wanted,” she said pawing her pistol going back to her post.  The rat behind her raised a paw wanting to go on walking toward Elizabeth but abandoned the idea and headed off putting his paw in his pocket.   He exited the booth still moaning and cursing to himself in complaint of Elizabeth’s stubbornness, Elizabeth simply fired endlessly reloading then fired again.  In a few booths down from her, a gunrat lowered his 440, and looked over at Mrs. Brisby nodding an amazement at the control she had over her weapon.  He had no way of hearing the conversation she had with the guard or whether if it was a wanted conversation or not.  All he knew the mouse was a natural shooter and always admired that in a woman-any woman.  But again, not many women in the valley wasn’t interested or won’t go near a gun.  Maybe that’s why Nicodemus chose her, many rats do have schoolboy crushes on her-even me, not for her attractive body-well that was probably and most likely a plus but they all admire her courage.   Not many woman, at least none I know would seek help from perfect strangers, but again, Elizabeth isn’t any other mouse.  The rat stared blankly at her for a few moments eyes fixed, he almost let go of the gun that was in his paws he stared too hard and too long.  He did find himself getting hard which was a bit strange for him since he doesn’t go for mice.  But as I said, Elizabeth wasn’t like any other mouse anyone had known.  Therefore, I guess anyone could fall in love with her.  The gunrat, whoever he was looked toward her direction for at lest few minutes more before finally returning to his target shooting.  Elizabeth reloaded her 440 unaware a fellow shooter was silently hitting on her, well, perhaps it was for the best.

	The beltway, as usual at mid afternoon was crowded-there wasn’t enough room for a compact even if they drove bumper to bumper down the road.  A man on a bicycle swerved between lanes of traffic, onto the sidewalk, then back on the highway again.  A convertible like hers carrying three half dressed teenagers cruised beside her with loud heavy metal blasting from the speakers.  The girls hooted and yelled over the music as they bounced around in the seats, Elizabeth, with an arm out the open car’s window can only smile and shake her head at the scene.  Why can’t they just put on some sixties sunglasses and play that good ol’ time rock and roll Elizabeth thought to herself as she checked her shades-pushing them up letting the pink lenses cover her pretty blue eyes.  Reaching over, Elizabeth twisted the left knob on the radio but quickly gave up and returned the knob to its original position.  
“Jay, when are you going to get that thing fixed?” she scowled, but then let it go leaning back into the driver’s seat to enjoy the wind in her fur.  A pair of fuzzy dice bounced and swayed in rhythm of the potholes.  Somewhere, a horn tooted Dixie, Elizabeth straightened and finicky looked about wondering indeed her favorite Charger was behind her.  She took a second go around but as for she could see, no orange Charger, it was probably just some redneck or maybe a “Dukes” fan was passing by.   She turned her attention back forward feeling a bit disappointed not to mention a little dumb not paying attention to the road, she was sure Jay wouldn’t get too upset knowing these 60s Mustangs were pretty abundant and easy to replaced but still Elizabeth wouldn’t forgive herself if she plowed ol’ Traveller into anything.   She drove on turning the bend of the beltway, Traveller turned off onto Route 5 heading South.  As much as she hated it even though it came easier now, she neared the entrance of NIMH, Elizabeth needed to meet with the doctor regarding the car he had propose, her butterflies did leave her stomach but the unsteadiness still lingered with her.  The car went back and forth in her head and it bothered the catnip out of her, it kept eating at her to the point that it drove her insane.  
Driving in to the parking lot, Elizabeth got out of Traveller and headed toward the heavy door that separated the sane world from the harsh realm beyond.  She walked the steps, opened the door and entered; the door swung rustily on its hinges as it closed behind her.  Earlier, the sky didn’t seemed threatening, bright orange sun over a dark blue sky but in the last few minutes darken clouds started to rolling in from the East.  Elizabeth did drove with the top up so there wasn’t that much of concern but the two main windows had a lick near the front so the interior would get damp if it rained heavily.  However, she had bigger fish to fry, this mysterious car burned rubber and used her memory as a drag strip.  NIMH, this morning, like the last time she visited didn’t look at all inviting especially knowing what went on along those walls.  Thunder cracked in the distance as more threatening clouds rolled in, if Elizabeth hadn’t went into the blackened abyss of a hallway few seconds sooner maybe she’d consider getting out the cover and placing it over Traveller so if the storm hit, he’ll be toasty and dry.  Oh well, too late now.   

	Death filled her nostrils again as offices passed her as she walked.  Lightening now flashed along with the crashing thunder as harsh rain beated the roof and what windows lined the darken walls of the institution.  Hesitating for a moment before going any further down the four sets of stairs, Elizabeth wrapped her shawl tighter around herself.  Somewhere off to the right of her sounds of pain could be heard as a jolt rip through a patient’s body, chains rattled behind her when someone in restraints moved about in his cell.  In her last visit, Dr. Schultz accompanied her but tonight-like nights in bed was alone in the darkness of the building the rats once had called home.  Like I referred before, it came easier to enter a place repeatedly such as this but it’s always on the other paw when going solo isn’t it?  You start to notice every little motion-every sound and your bones chill, don’t they?  Why?  I’m not sure if the scientists of NIMH hadn’t even figure that out yet!  I myself gone solo during nights these past weeks so yeah I guess it does get easier, but that doesn’t make it any less freighting or makes it more ensuring.   Elizabeth went on about calming herself and trying to get control of her emotions as she reached the top of the sprawling staircase that lead to the basement where Rater’s cage was located.  Other doctors and nurses rush up and down the corridors to see their clients or perhaps just to give an existing client his or her medication.  She curved with the stairs as she head for the ground floor then to the sub floor.  The metal gate swung open letting her to press on as they say to the familiar rows of cages that loomed over her.  
“Good to see you again!” a familiar voice echoed after the mouse as she continued cautiously on paying much attention to keep to the center of the hall.  And like her previous visit, rats and mice hooted and made rude comments as she passed, but being cute as she was, I guess she got used to it by now.  When Elizabeth reached the cage in question Barney had caught up with her and smiled then peeked in the cell but only saw blackness.  
“I won’t be a bother.” She said now looking through the bars, she allowed herself to approach the cage.  “Dr. Rater-”
“Your convertible is getting rained on.” Came a voice within the darkened cage, Elizabeth could only stare blankly in the dark and then took the seat that faced Dr. Rater’s cage.  Barney had left Mrs. Brisby said he’d be back in about fifteen minutes to let her out.  Even it had little point in it, Elizabeth stared harder between the bars leaning a bit forward, “How did you-”
“Your hair,” Rattibal cut in, his voice booming loudly through the empty hallway as the lights to Rater’s cell flipped on.
“Thank you Barney.”  
Sitting in a folded chair just a foot away from the bars, Dr. Rater stood fixing his daze on the mouse almost having to look down at her.  “..And ones that drive convertibles only wear shades with pink lenses like that.” he observed pointing at her sunglasses.  In embarrassment, Elizabeth took off her glasses that she forgotten to pocket when she entered NIMH.  She proceeded in doing so, putting them in her breast pocket then turned her attention back to the psychologist.  “Yeah I guess it was pretty obvious wasn’t it?” Elizabeth laughed nervously although she clearly saw her host didn’t find it amusing.  Now pacing in front of her and seemed to be in his own world, Dr. Rater balled a fist in front of himself now in his psychotic mood going through every conclusion imaginable Elizabeth couldn’t help herself but squirm in her seat, whatever Rattibal had to say ate its way through her and it melted her nerves.  Sweat began to bead on her pretty little forehead worried she had angered her host knowing what kind of person she was dealing with.  But he just paced and kept pacing focusing on nothing in particular; finally he turned to the mouse dropping his paw and coming to the bars that surrounded his enclosed quarters of a cage.
“You know, Elizabeth,” he started eyes fixed onto hers, “..sometimes the hardest things to find is right under your nose.”  Dr. Rater tapped the tip of his nose although he was speaking to a little child.  The mouse in the chair blinked and stood herself not knowing how to come back as they say, she was dumbfounded; how did he knew what she needed?  But again, Nicodemus did know her problems back in the rosebush but still, it is freaky no matter how you cut it.
“I came to you for a lead on that car you-” Elizabeth managed to get out before the large rat cutted her off.  “I know your needs,” he said in a low but calming voice.  Even though it was risky, Elizabeth stepped closer to the bars; somewhere in the distance the chains rattled again and moments later the screams returned as the bolt rocked NIMH’s foundation.  Mrs. Brisby jumped a mile high freakily looking about trying to find wherever the poor rat was kept and somehow help him but decided against it, she was sure in spite of her nature there was nothing she could do for whoever the tortured soul.  Oh she could go to the warden or whatever what they call them in mental hospitals and plea to let him go or at least stop tormenting him but again the changes even for that were slim.  She turned her attention back to the psychologist shaky as ever imagination racing like the General Lee being chased by Rosco over the events that laid in these walls, Dr. Rater stood just behind the bars unfazed, being as cool as a cucumber like what was going on around him wasn’t a big deal.  It’s like the old saying goes; “It’s only a thing.”  Elizabeth backed away deciding she was getting too comfortable being with Rattibal in spite he was in fact he was celled.  
“But Dr…” she begins as sweat now covered the majority of her face and ran down the back of her neck.  “..I had already searched for the car you asked and the only car I found was crushed..” 
“Elizabeth,” Dr. Rater stated glancing downward at her with a bit of anger in his voice but let it go.  Thunder crashed along with the flashing lightening rattling the window pains causing NIMH to rock its foundation.  Elizabeth literally jumped out of the folded chair almost landing on the concrete floor, she straightened herself turning back to the cage.  The psychologist started pacing again in the tiny space that he was forced to call his home, “You think since the car you find at the bottom of a pile of mangled gas tanks and rusty mufflers is the only one.” he went on turning to the other direction walking intensely keeping his eyes on the mouse narrowing his look directly on her. She however shivered at the sound of his voice now frightened Rater would lunge at her eating her flesh until only her skeleton was left-if that.   Rattibal stopped short turned and almost glared in Elizabeth’s direction before turning to the wall of the cage and continue his pacing.  The storm pounded the Washington area for all it was worth while the awkward conversation moved on.
“Garages can hold secrets,” he said turning back to Elizabeth mouth curing into a smirk causing his guest to quiver even more.
“Wh-what do you mean?” Mrs. Brisby questioned putting her paws to her sides in a “I don’t know” gesture.  But Rater won’t have it, he rushed over to the bars with such fury he nearly ran into them and glared down at the mouse, he grabbed the bars with both paws and came to inches from poking his head out into the hall.  Relaxing, Rater dropped his paws baking away from the terrified mouse knowing he would make things worse.
“You don’t want to test me, Elizabeth,” he finally said calmly but with his usual tenseness that almost made Elizabeth wish she could run, run from the hell she had put herself in.
“A rat tested me,” Rater went on eyes still on her, “I ate his liver with fava beans and a nice Chianti.” Rattibal finished his statement with a nod and a satisfying sound deep in his throat.  He then came forward pointing with a finger with such force he nearly hit the bars again, “Just go, go now!”
Elizabeth couldn’t think straight, she just bolted from the chair into the empty hall and out of NIMH as she could not bothering to say “Bye” ether to Rattibal or Barney.  All she wanted was to get out and home, home again to her children, away from this terror she had entered.  She literally jumped into Jay’s Mustang and sped off into the dark of the night.