Raffie on the Run

by Jacqueline Resnick

17

  Not a Spring Chicken Anymore

  “Ahh!” the old lady rasps. “A—a—a MOUSE!”

  I skid to a stop. “What did you call me?” I spin around. Blood pounds in my ears. I see Kaz out of the corner of my eyes, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. All I hear is that awful word.

  Mouse.

  I lash my tail. “Would a mouse have a tail this strong? Or teeth this sharp? Or—ow!” Something stabs at my tail.

  “Payback,” Kaz says. He clamps his beak around my tail and flaps his wings. He rises into the air, bringing me with him. My stomach seizes. I’m dangling upside down, hanging by my tail.

  Kaz flies crookedly over the line of plants. I swing through the air. Leaves and flowers spin beneath me. Behind us the woman shrieks again. “There’s also a—a—PIGEON! GET OUT!”

  The woman swings her cane. It smashes into Kaz from behind. “My wing!” he moans. He tilts to the side. I jerk wildly beneath him.

  “Hurt…” Kaz pants. “Can’t … stay … up…”

  We lurch to the left. We lurch to the right. We go spiraling down. The floor rushes up to meet us. “Oh no,” I gasp. “We’re going to—”

  We crash down hard. I’m flattened against the floor. Pain shoots from my head to my paws. On the other side of the plants, the woman’s shrieks grow louder. I hear pounding footsteps, and then Sal the doorman’s booming voice. “What’s wrong, Mrs. Pilly-Wink?”

  “Hide,” Kaz rasps. I peel myself off the ground. Every inch of my body aches, but I drag myself into the largest plant I can find. Kaz limps in behind me. Big yellow flowers bloom on its branches. We duck underneath them. Their sweet stench is so awful I have to cover my snout with my paws.

  “What took you so long, young man?” Mrs. Pilly-Wink scolds. “I could be dying over here!”

  “Are you?” Sal gasps.

  “Well, of course not, but something nearly as bad happened. I saw a mouse! And a pigeon! Inside the building.”

  “Did you now?” Sal asks kindly.

  “I did! They were right here. The mouse was squeaking and the pigeon was hooting and then the pigeon picked the mouse up by his tail and flew him over there!”

  “Behind the plants?” Sal asks. A shadow looms over us. I burrow deeper under the flowers and try not to gag. “I don’t see anything,” Sal says.

  “They were right there!” Mrs. Pilly-Wink insists. “I got them with my cane!”

  “Okay, I’ll look for them,” Sal says gently. “You go on your way, and I’ll be sure to take care of it.”

  “Don’t leave this area,” Mrs. Pilly-Wink commands. “They have to be here somewhere.”

  “Of course,” Sal says. “Now you have a good night, you hear?”

  Mrs. Pilly-Wink grumbles something in return. Then her uneven footsteps move away, punctuated by the clunk of a cane. “Bye, Mrs. Pilly-Wink!” Sal calls after her.

  A new, heavier set of footsteps makes its way over. “Everything okay?” I recognize the voice. It’s Thomas, Marigold’s chauffeur. “Sorry it took me so long. I couldn’t get Marigold back in her bag. I don’t know what’s gotten into her tonight.”

  “Everything’s fine.” Sal sighs. “Just Mrs. Pilly-Wink. She’s not a spring chicken anymore. Poor gal must have forgotten to take her medicine again. Says she saw a pigeon flying back here, carrying a mouse in its beak. Can you imagine?”

  Sal chuckles, and Thomas joins in. “Well, I better get Marigold home,” Thomas says. “See you later, Sal.”

  As he walks away, I hear the muffled sound of Marigold yapping in her bag. “It was a pigeon and a rat, ’kay? And while we’re at it…”

  There’s a sharp ding, and Marigold’s voice fades to nothing.

  “A pigeon and a mouse,” Sal murmurs. He chuckles again. “Poor old Mrs. Pilly-Wink.”

  CHAPTER

  18

  A Dog-Eat-Dog World

  I wait for Sal’s footsteps to retreat before I stand up. I shake out my paws one by one. I’m sore, but my paws are still working. I turn to Kaz. He’s leaning on his side. The green feathers on his neck are flared, and his full wing looks funny. “Are you okay?” I whisper.

  Slowly, Kaz lifts his full wing. He makes it halfway up before he gasps out in pain and lets it flop back against his side.

  “Is it…?” I can’t even finish the sentence. We’ll never make it to Central Park West if Kaz has a broken wing.

  Kaz tries again. His feathers ruffle with pain, but this time he lifts his wing all the way. He blows out a breath as he lowers it back down. “It’s just bruised,” he says. “I’m not gonna be able to fly for a bit, but it will get better.”

  I collapse on a yellow flower. I’m so relieved I barely even notice its awful stench. Kaz peeks out through a gap in the leaves. “Elevator’s opening again,” he whispers. “We’ll just have to wait for the coast to clear.” He shifts, and a moan of pain escapes him.

  “I’m so sorry, Kaz,” I whisper. “This is all my fault. The woman called me a mouse and I just … I got so mad that I forgot everything else.”

  Kaz focuses his round, beady eyes on me. “What’s so bad about mice, anyway?”

  “Have you ever seen a mouse?” I blurt out. “They’re weak! And they can barely gnaw through anything! And they’re just … so tiny!”

  “Dude, you’re tiny,” Kaz says.

  “And I hate it!” I explode. I lower my voice. “I’m smaller than all the girl rats! And big rats like Ace are always beating me to the good forages. I just…” My whiskers quiver angrily. “I want to be a normal rat.”

  Slowly, Kaz sits up. He grunts with pain as he waddles closer. “Do you think I asked for this wing?” He lifts his stubby wing. It’s half the size of his full wing, with a jagged edge. I shake my snout. “Of course I didn’t,” Kaz says. “But you don’t get to pick who you are. You only get one choice in the matter, and that’s how you feel about it. Are you gonna like you? Or are you gonna hate you? That’s it. Your only choice.” Kaz gives his stumpy wing a flap. “I’ll tell you,” he continues. “Liking is a whole lot easier than hating. Besides, half a wing is better than no wing, right?”

  “I guess.” I lick at my sore paws. “How did that happen to your wing, anyway?”

  “Ziller found me like this when I was a baby.” Kaz leans against a branch with a groan. “He said a falcon must have attacked me.”

  I flinch as my tongue hits a sore spot on my paw. “Does it hurt?”

  “Nah. It just makes me fly funky.” Kaz cocks his head. “Does being small hurt?”

  “Of course not,” I say.

  “There you go,” Kaz says. “You can’t hate something that doesn’t hurt, am I right?”

  I keep my eyes on my paws. I don’t know how to explain it to Kaz. If I’d been large enough to save that pizza from Ace, Oggie would have never left home. He would have never been rat-napped. I would have never had to run away. We’d be on the subway platform right now, foraging for food together. I lick harder at my paws. Being small doesn’t make me hurt on the outside. It makes me hurt on the inside. And it hurts the people I love, too.

  I clear my throat. “Do you remember your home before Ziller found you?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “Not really.” Kaz stretches out his talons. “Just this one thing. I remember a branch. It was real nice and thick. It forked into two, and it had a nest tucked into the crook of it.” He shrugs his wings, then flinches in pain. “But maybe I just made that up in my head. Ziller says he’s got no clue what I’m talking about.”

  “It sounds like a memory to me,” I say. I peek through a gap in the flowers. The elevator doors are closed. There are no humans in sight. “Coast is clear.”

  “We better hurry,” Kaz says.

  I scurry out of the plant. Kaz limps out after me. There’s a large wooden door nearby. The wood is warped, so it doesn’t close all the way. “That’s it,” I whisper.

  We squeeze through the opening. The stairwell is dark and narrow. I scurr
y down. Kaz moans a little as he follows. The stairwell leads to a dingy room with low ceilings. I take a deep breath. The aroma of dirt and rust fills my nostrils. “Now that’s more like it,” I say.

  “Well, well, well,” someone growls. “Look what we have here.”

  I spin around. A dog is standing across the room. But this is no tiny, pampered Marigold dog. This dog is massive. He’s nearly as wide as a door, with paws so large they could squash me in a single step. His tail is short and thick, his fur is coarse and dark, and he’s wearing a sharp, spiked collar around his neck. This must be Rex.

  Rex snarls, baring his large, gleaming teeth. Drool runs down the side of his snout. “Perfect timing,” he growls. “I was hoping for an evening snack.” He unhinges his jaw and lunges right at us.

  CHAPTER

  19

  Every Dog Has Its Day

  “Wait!” I squeak. “We’re friends of Marigold’s!”

  The dog skids to a stop in front of us. He’s so close I can feel his hot, chalky breath. A line of drool swings from his mouth. He shakes his head, and the drool sprays everywhere. Droplets rain down, soaking into my fur.

  “Marigold?” he snarls. “I haven’t heard from her in weeks. And back when I knew her, she wouldn’t be caught dead with a rat or a pigeon.”

  “Are you Rex?” I ask.

  “That’s Mr. Rex to you.” Rex snaps his jaw. His teeth flash, huge and sharp. “I like a little respect from my meals.”

  “Marigold wants you to know she still loves you!” My heart’s rattling so loudly, I’m sure he can hear it. “She asked us to tell you.”

  “She wants you to find a way to get to her,” Kaz adds. His voice is tense with pain. His wing hangs limply at his side. I scoot in front of him. If Rex wants to eat Kaz, he’ll have to get through me first.

  “It’s true,” I plead. “Marigold misses you. Heart emoji!” I add. I picked that up on the subway platform recently. It’s fancy human talk for love.

  Rex cocks his head. “I don’t buy it,” he growls. “And I’m really hungry, so…” He gnashes his teeth.

  “There was another message,” Kaz says. “What was it, Raffie?”

  I try to dredge it up, but my brain goes blank. Everything darkens around me. All I see are Rex’s huge, white fangs.

  “I do love a warm snack,” Rex growls.

  Kaz is talking, but his voice sounds distant. “She misses your tail … No, it was your fur…”

  Rex lunges.

  His mouth opens around me. Razor-sharp teeth graze my fur. Huge paws knock into me. “Pawsy wawsies!” I gasp. Adrenaline pumps though me, bringing the world back into focus. “That’s it! That’s what Marigold misses!”

  Rex freezes. His mouth is locked around my back. Pinpricks of pain shoot through me.

  “He’s right,” Kaz jumps in. “Marigold said she misses your pawsy wawsies, Mr., um, Rex, sir…”

  Slowly, Rex lifts his head. His teeth slide off me. “You really do know my Maripoo,” he breathes.

  “That’s what we’ve been telling you,” Kaz says.

  Rex’s tail wags. “My Maripoo,” he blubbers. “She still loves me!” He opens his mouth and pounces at me.

  I cry out in surprise. He’s still going to eat me.

  “Please,” I beg. I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to look. “I’m not very tasty! Eat some pizza instead!”

  Something soft and wet strokes my back. I open my eyes. A huge, pink tongue lolls over me. Rex is licking me. “My Maripoo really didn’t find anyone new?” he asks.

  “There’s only you,” I promise. “Her human-mom found out about you two and banned her from the laundry room. But she never stopped loving you.”

  Rex gives me another slobbery lick. It’s so rough, it sends me stumbling backward into Kaz. “She wants you to find a way to get to her,” I add.

  “A lover’s path.” Rex beams. “I guess it really is true what they say. Every dog has its day.”

  “Every dog has its day,” I repeat. “I like that.”

  “The problem is, Marigold lives on the very top floor of this building.” Rex’s tail droops. “How am I supposed to reach her without getting caught?”

  “The elevator?” Kaz offers.

  Rex shakes his head. “Everyone in this building knows I live in the basement. I’ll be stopped and returned to my human-dad before I make it to the second floor.” He backs away and starts circling the room. “What I need is a path outside the building…” He pauses in front of a high window. A rusty metal contraption hangs outside. “The fire escape ladder,” Rex says thoughtfully. “That could work.” Rex lifts onto his hind legs to examine the window. “I’ll need to find a time when my human-dad is out, of course…”

  I interrupt before Rex can get too caught up in planning. “Before we go,” I say, “we were hoping you could help us.”

  Rex drops back down and turns around. He pulls back his lips, revealing his long, sharp teeth. I immediately tense. But this time, no snarl comes. Only a wide dog smile. “Anything for friends of my Maripoo,” he beams.

  I relax and sink onto my belly, resting my sore paws. “Marigold said you go to Central Park.”

  Rex nods. “Every Saturday.”

  “How do you get there?” I ask. “We’re trying to get to Central Park ourselves.”

  “Easy.” Rex sits back on his haunches. “My human-dad’s brother drives a City Tours bus. It’s a sightseeing bus,” he explains. “One of the buses ends at Central Park, so he lets us ride it for free.”

  “Do you think Kaz and I could ride it?” I ask eagerly.

  Rex studies me. “You’re tiny enough to sneak on.” He looks at Kaz. “And I’ve seen pigeons hitch a ride before. No one seems to care as long as they stay out of the way.” He gives a gruff nod. “Yeah. You could probably get away with it.”

  Kaz looks interested. “How do we get there?”

  “The stop is four blocks away. Follow the smell of flowers to the smell of paper to the smell of squirrels. You’ll find it there. You want the northern side of the street,” he adds.

  “The nacho side?” I repeat. “Are there always nachos there?” My eyes flutter dreamily. I can almost taste the cheesy, crunchy goodness of rotten, hardened nachos. My stomach grumbles. It feels like a long time since I ate Marigold’s treat.

  “Not nacho,” Rex corrects. “Northern.”

  My stomach grumbles more loudly. “So there are no nachos at all?”

  “Ignore the rat,” Kaz cuts in. “Northern side. Got it.”

  “Be sure you get on the bus that smells like leaves. That’s how you’ll know it ends in Central Park. Whatever you do, don’t get on the bus that smells like rice. That one ends in Chinatown.”

  “Rice,” I say dreamily. “With soy sauce.”

  “Focus, Raffie.” Kaz hits me with his stubby wing. “Flowers, paper, squirrels,” he repeats. “Northern corner. Leaf bus. Got it.”

  Rex wags his tail in approval. “Impressive.”

  “Pigeons are great at directions,” I explain. “They’ve got brain compasses.”

  “Rex? Where are you, buddy?” A human voice rings out from the other side of the basement.

  I stiffen. “Is that…?”

  “My human-dad,” Rex confirms.

  “The rat hater,” I breathe.

  “He doesn’t like pigeons much either,” Rex says. “You better go.”

  I dash to the stairs. But Kaz is limping. Slowly. He’s still making his way across the room when a door slams on the other side of the basement. I peek out from the stairwell. A tall man is petting Rex. Everything about him is big. His hands. His head. His hair.

  Come on, Kaz, I beg silently. Kaz limps faster. But he’s not fast enough.

  I can tell the moment the man sees him. His eyes pop. A vein bulges in his forehead. “How?” he gasps. “The exterminator was supposed to get rid of the pigeons!”

  He reaches for something. It looks like a branch. A really thick, really hard bra
nch. “Not the rat bat!” Rex howls.

  The man takes no notice. “I have to do everything myself around here,” he grumbles. He lifts the baseball bat and swings it at Kaz.

  CHAPTER

  20

  Kill Two Birds with One Stone

  “Watch out, Kaz!” I scurry out from the stairwell and ram myself into Kaz. He tumbles onto his side. The bat misses him by a sliver.

  “Are you kidding?” the man roars. “A rat too? I’m going to kill that exterminator. But first—” He lifts the bat above his head. “I’m going to kill you two.”

  The bat smashes down.

  CRACK!

  It just misses my tail.

  CRACK!

  The floor shakes under my paws.

  The man storms toward us, swinging wildly. Kaz yelps as the bat slams down next to his hurt wing. I scurry backward, dashing left and right. Suddenly my tail bumps into something.

  I turn around. I’m backed up against a wall.

  “Got you.” The man smiles. He lifts his bat.

  “Stop!” Rex bounds toward his human-dad. “They’re friends of my Maripoo.” He leaps into the air. His front paws crash into his dad’s chest. The man trips backward and falls to the ground. The bat falls with him. “Go!” Rex calls.

  We hurry to the stairs. “You’re not getting away,” the man yells. I hear a scuffle behind us. The man is dragging himself across the floor, even with Rex’s paws firmly planted on top of him. “What’s gotten into you, Rex?” he grunts. He shrugs the dog off and clambers to his feet.

  “Get through the door!” I tell Kaz.

  We throw ourselves at the stairwell doorway. But the man reaches it first. The door slams shut in our faces.

  Our exit is blocked. We’re trapped.

  The man lunges for his bat. “Don’t do it,” Rex whimpers, but his human-dad ignores his cries.

  “Any ideas, Raffie?” Kaz asks shakily.

  My whole body trembles. Think, I order myself. I remember my dad’s three Ds. Duck, dash, disappear.

  My eyes land on a vent in the bottom of the wall. It’s small, but not so small that Kaz won’t fit. The man lifts his bat into the air. “Now I’ve got you,” he growls. “First, the rat.” The bat whizzes toward me.