“There must be a way out of here,” said Brutus, searching around. “Some secret passageway or hidden door?”
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Brutus, but this isn’t like the kind of place Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys always end up in,” said Harriet. “No trap doors or secret passageways. There’s only one way in or out of this basement and that’s through that door.” Harriet sat down on the cold stone floor and heaved a deep sigh. “We’ve been had by a mouse, Brutus, and we probably have to learn to accept that horrible truth.”
He took up position next to his mate and both sat there for a moment, contemplating what could have been, when suddenly a squeaky voice sounded from right behind them.
“Can I help you with something?”
They both looked in the direction the voice seemed to be coming from, and Harriet was the first one to discover its source.
“Oh, hey, mouse,” she said.
“You can call me Molly,” said the mouse.
“A member of your family managed to lock us up down here,” Harriet explained, “and now we’re kinda stuck.”
“That will be Rupert,” said Molly, a frown on her face, her tiny paws planted on tiny hips. “If I’ve told him once I’ve told him a million times: don’t mess with the humans or their pets. But does he listen? Of course not. He thinks he’s engaged in some sort of noble battle with our mortal enemy or something. Are you our mortal enemy, cats?”
“I guess… we are, in a sense,” said Harriet. ‘”Or at least Odelia sent us down here to get rid of you, so there’s something very enemy-like to that.”
“Look, we don’t want any trouble,” said Molly. “And if Rupert has given you trouble, my sincerest apologies. He runs a little wild, my Rupert does.”
“Is he…”
“My husband? Yes, he is. And also the father of my four hundred babies.”
“Four hundred babies,” said Brutus, gulping slightly. “How about that?”
“Four hundred is a lot,” Harriet admitted.
“Yeah, they’re a handful,” Molly agreed.
“Brutus and I can’t have babies, you see,” said Harriet. “We tried but it turns out our humans had him castrated and had me spayed, so now we can’t have kittens.”
“We thought about adopting,” said Brutus, “but it’s such a hassle, with all the paperwork and the home visits and all, so we just figure, why bother, you know?”
“Yeah, I’m not even sure I want to be a mother at this point,” said Harriet. “We live a very full and happy life, Brutus and I, along with our dear friends and of course the humans who graciously take care of us. So why have kids, I mean? We might regret the decision and then what?”
“It’s not as if we can give them back,” said Brutus.
“Well, technically we could,” said Harriet.
“You mean…”
“Yeah, we could always tell the adoption agency it didn’t work out and then they’ll probably find another family to place them with.”
“But that’s not fair on those kids.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Well, all I can say is that kids are a lot of work,” said Molly. “But it’s worth it.”
“You think?” said Harriet, placing her head on her paws so she was closer to Molly’s level. “It’s very interesting to hear you say that.”
“She hasn’t completely given up on her dream,” Brutus explained.
“No, I haven’t,” said Harriet. “Though it took this conversation to realize that.”
“Not for me,” said Brutus. “I’ve always known that about you, snookums.”
“You have? That’s so perceptive of you, my turtle dove.”
“You’re lucky in that you have a good partner,” said Molly. “A good partner is key. If I had to do this all by myself, I wouldn’t have done it. But with Rupert it works great.”
“Oh, so Rupert is a good father, is he?” said Harriet, surprised to hear that the obnoxious and frankly annoying rodent they’d met had another, softer side to him.
“Oh, yeah, he’s great with the kids. Likes to play with them, but can also be strict when he needs to be.”
“You have to be strict,” said Harriet. “You need to raise them with a firm paw.”
“They need to know their limits,” Brutus said, nodding.
“I think you’d make a great daddy, buttercup,” said Harriet.
“You really think so, honey bug?” he said, touched.
“Yes, I do. I’ve always thought that.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet of you to say. I think you’d make a great mother.”
“You do? Why, thank you, pookie bear.”
“And I think you two would make great parents,” said Molly, adding her two cents.
“You know, Molly,” said Harriet. “Now that I got to know you a little better, I have to say my entire idea of mice as a species has taken a radical turn for the better.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that, Harriet,” said Molly. “Likewise. I mean, listening to Rupert it’s almost as if cats are the worst creatures on the entire planet, and I always told him, ‘Rupert,’ I say, ‘cats are probably a lot nicer than you think if only you would bother to get to know them a little better.’ You know? But does he listen? Of course not. ‘Get to know them better!’ he’ll say. ‘Do you want to be eaten? Huh? Do you want to become breakfast, lunch and dinner to a bunch of vicious hairy monsters?’”
“We’re not vicious monsters, are we, Brutus?” asked Harriet.
“I don’t feel like a vicious monster,” said Brutus. “I really don’t.”
“Live and let live has always been my motto,” said Harriet. “There’s a place under the sun for every creature on this planet. Isn’t that what I always say, Brutus?”
“It is,” Brutus confirmed. He couldn’t actually remember ever hearing those exact words from his partner’s lips, but it did sound like something she could have said.
“I think we should all try to live together in perfect harmony,” said Molly now. “That’s what I teach my kids, and that’s the kind of life I try to live as an example for them.”
“Inspiring,” said Harriet, nodding. “You’re an inspiration, Molly. My hat off to you.”
“Likewise,” said Brutus, who wondered why Harriet was suddenly talking about non-existent hats. Then again, a large chunk of the conversation had gone right over his head, including but not limited to the virtues Harriet had suddenly extolled of motherhood.
“A quick question, though,” said Harriet now.
“Shoot,” said Molly. “Anything for my new best friends.”
“Could you tell your husband to open the door so we can get out of this basement? He accidentally closed it.”
“Oh, you don’t need that door,” said Molly. “There’s plenty of ways in and out. Just follow me.”
And with these words she headed to a corner of the basement, Harriet and Brutus right on her heels. The mouse moved beyond an old toboggan, and they followed suit, though they had to displace the object to fit behind it. And then the mouse vanished from view. Harriet and Brutus searched around, but found no trace of her, until her tiny head with the long whiskers came peeping out of a tiny hole at the bottom of the wall.
“Over here,” said Molly. “If you follow me I’ll lead you straight to the next floor.” And then her little head popped off again.
“Um, Molly?” said Harriet.
Molly’s head reappeared, her nose twitching as she sniffed the air. “Yah?”
“Um… not to put too fine a point on it, but we’re too big to fit in there.”
“Nonsense,” said Molly. “You’ll fit just fine. Just make yourself small.”
“But…” said Harriet. “I’m not sure if…”
“Oh, don’t be such a pussy,” said Molly. “You know what they say, if your head fits, the rest of your body does, too. So just follow me, and you’ll be out of here in no time.”
“Oh, all right,” said Harriet finally, and proceeded to stuff her head into the tiny hole.
And then she was stuck.
She couldn’t move forward, in spite of the theory about the fitting head Molly had expounded, and she couldn’t move back either, as her head was wedged in too tight.