“Stop! Stop!” shouted Chollie. “Oo! Oo! My nose—”
“You better stop,” Tucker said. For a mouse he suddenly felt very strong. “And you’d better tell your friends to go home. Otherwise—” It was horrible—but—to save their home— “Otherwise, I’m going to claw a good gouge from your nose.” And he only hoped that his claws were big enough to carry out his threat.
“Go on, you guys!” whimpered Chollie Rat. He didn’t sound one single bit like his former bragging and blustering self. “Go on! Back to da gahbitch can. My nose—! Ooo—”
“Oh, wow!” said the Bump, who hadn’t said a single word till then. “An’ I t’ought I was da cowahd.” He tittered again.
The Bump and Spud backed out of the drainpipe.
Very gingerly, Harry and Tucker let Chollie go. And he went fast!—out of shame as well as pain.
Neither mouse nor cat had the strength to speak. For at least five minutes there was only relief—peace.
“He said they’d be back in a month,” Tucker Mouse finally found the breath to say.
“Now, don’t worry!” Harry Cat had long since realized that the best way, the only way, to quiet his friend was to flatten him gently on the floor with a paw, claws in. “With all the lunch stands here, I’ll be able to eat a lot. And in one month”—he reared up on his hind legs and showed off his growing muscles—“in just one month, I’ll be so big that all the rats in New York will tremble. Most of all, those hooligans!”
“Very impressive, I must say,” said Tucker, who knew that for the rest of his life he would always be a mouse.
“And by the way”—Harry tapped Tucker’s head—“Mousiekins, you saved my life. By biting that nasty creature’s tail.”
“Yes, and you saved my Life Savings,” said Tucker.
Harry Cat had to laugh at that. And it wasn’t just the purring murmur of a cat’s delight. It was more like the howling yowling of mirth. And happiness. And safety. And home. “And of course they are equally important. My life—and your life savings, that is.”
“Oh, Harry, I didn’t mean—”
But Tucker was abruptly distracted. A splash of silver fell at his feet.
“Come on, Master Mouse! I was only kidding—”
“Look, Harry.”
At a certain hour of the night a ray of moonlight, if the moon was full, fell through a grating, above, in Times Square. And fell like a silent poem—a prayer—in front of the drainpipe where Harry and Tucker now lived.
They both looked at the silvery light. And then they went out, to get the feel of it on their backs.
The moonlight made the fur of both animals shine. It felt as if it were shining inside them, too.
Tucker Mouse was silent. And then he coughed. The late stillness of the subway station—so beautiful and difficult—just had to be broken.
And then it was really broken—harshly: a clattering train rushed in.
One man ran to catch it. And made it.
A lady cried, “Oh, please wait!” The man firmly held the door open for her. “Oh, thank you,” she said. The train sped away.
“I’m glad she caught it,” murmured Tucker. But Harry said nothing. He shone.
Text copyright © 1986 by George Selden
Pictures copyright © 1986 by Garth Williams
All rights reserved
Published simultaneously in Canada by Collins Publishers, Toronto
First edition, 1986
eISBN 9781466863651
First eBook edition: January 2014
Harry Kitten and Tucker Mouse Page 4