Brian Plante - Papa Rat

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Papa Rat

by Brian Plante

Through the infra red glasses Dennis saw a half dozen orange patches moving along the wall,

congregating on a spot behind the kitchen table. Billy, dressed in a reflecting Faraday suit, quietly tiptoed

to the area and set up the microwave projector in front of the wall where Dennis pointed. Dennis

motioned right, then left, and Billy moved the projector to his signals until it was centered directly over the

hot spots.

"Zap 'em," Dennis whispered.

Billy powered up the microwave and the orange spots burst into incandescence in Dennis's heat-sensing

glasses as the targets absorbed the microwaves. Within seconds the bright spots stopped moving.

"That's enough," Dennis called to Billy, no longer whispering. "We don't want them to cook." Dennis

always hated the smell when Billy got too eager with the microwave, and it was bad for business.

Billy cut the power to the microwave projector and started packing up the electronics. Dennis used a

stud sensor and marked the centers on either side of the hot spot, and then cut into the wallboard with his

utility knife. In a few minutes he had the wall opened to reveal the nest.

One adult brown rat, probably the mother, and four young ones. Damn, thought Dennis, he had counted

six through the glasses. And it was definitely the nest of a smart rat. If it was the smart one that got away,

it would be long gone by now, so Dennis packed away the infra reds.

While Billy put away the equipment, Dennis examined the nest. It was typical for a smart rat's nest.

Orderly. Paper cups and jar lids filled with cereals and vegetable matter. Neatly arranged rows of

buttons, beads, coins, a few pieces of cheap jewelry, and a couple of marbles; the smart ones liked shiny

objects and tended to collect them. Above the stockpile of items, stuck in a hole in the stud, was a lone

yellow dandelion flower.

Dennis cleaned up the mess, throwing the dead rats and their hoard in a plastic grocery bag. Reaching

lastly for the dandelion flower, a brown blur entered his field of vision, dropping down from the void

between the walls and landing directly on the back of his outstretched hand.

Dennis flinched as he recognized the brown ball of fur as his escapee. It was a big one, probably the male

of the group. Papa Rat. The rat clung tightly onto the back of his leather work glove, staring defiantly at

Dennis with its beady black eyes. Dennis shook his hand several times but the rat held on fast. When

Dennis stopped shaking his hand, the rat quickly scrambled up to his wrist and bit into the exposed flesh

between the glove and his shirtsleeve.

Dennis let out a yelp and whacked both his hand and the rat into the wall. The rat fell to the floor,

stunned.

"Son of a bitch!" Dennis yelled. "Did you see that? Damn rat came out of the wall and bit me."

Billy came over to look at the bite mark, which was already filling with blood. "Jeez. You better wash it

out good, man. You never know what kind of diseases the friggin' rats are carrying."

Dennis walked over to the kitchen faucet and ran some water. He found some Palmolive dish soap in the

cabinet under the sink, squirted some onto his bleeding wrist, and lathered it up under the running water.

The owner of the co-op was out, as was usual when the exterminators were nuking smart rats, so he

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Brian Plante - Papa Rat

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