Raffie on the Run

by Jacqueline Resnick

  The bus screeches to a stop. “I want to go down to the water, Daddy!” a boy says from somewhere behind us.

  “All right, y’all,” a man replies. “Looks like we’re hopping off.” Feet pound past us, one after another. They climb down the stairs and fade into the distance. I poke my head out from under the seat. There’s no one left. We’re all alone on the top floor of the bus.

  Kaz flies straight to the ledge of the bus. “Come look at this view, Raffie!” he calls out.

  I glance around. There are no humans to see me. I can do whatever I want. I scamper up onto the ledge, next to Kaz. The sun warms my back. A sparrow hops around down below. From this high up, he looks teeny tiny.

  “There’s the Statue of Liberty,” Kaz says. I follow his gaze across the water to something standing in the distance. It looks like a human, but it’s taller, and straighter, and stiller. The statue-human holds one arm up in the air. “I used to watch her back home in Brooklyn,” Kaz says. “I’d escape from my flock for a few minutes and stare at her across the water, imagining what it would be like to just take off and fly to her—to be free from it all.” Kaz pauses. “And now I am,” he says slowly. He lifts his wing into the air, just like the statue’s arm. “The Kaz of Liberty!” he shouts.

  I laugh, but inside I feel all jittery. Kaz might be free, but Oggie isn’t. And every second we’re here is another second he’s trapped in that cage. Or worse.

  “Off we go!” The bus’s booming voice is back. I hear a shuffle of feet below, but not a single human climbs to the top of the bus. I blow out a sigh of relief and relax on the ledge. “Welcome to the Big Apple! We’re going to cruise our way uptown, ending at Central Park. Next stop, Union Square!” The bus lurches forward. I have to dig my claws into the ledge to keep from tumbling off. But then we’re moving, and it’s nothing like riding the subway.

  Wind whips through my fur and whooshes in my ears. Smells race past, one after another, so fast I barely have time to sniff them before they’re gone. The voice keeps booming out of the black box, but I’ve stopped listening. There are too many other sounds blasting on every side of us: honks and sirens and voices and music.

  We move faster. Buildings stretch toward the sky, shiny as tinfoil. Lights flash: green, yellow, red. Sidewalks unspool like thread, and humans hurry down them. For a second I worry a woman spots me, but then she’s gone, and it doesn’t matter.

  “This is Union Square!” the voice booms. The streets are crowded here, filled with cars and humans and lined with windows. One window is packed with clothes. Human-sized dolls pose stiffly inside it. They make me think of the doll Mom made Lulu once out of a cotton ball and Twizzlers. “My sister would love this place,” I murmur.

  And then we’re moving again, the wind whistling in my ears. We pass fountains and patches of green; we pass signs that seem to float in midair; we pass more windows filled with clothes and windows filled with food. One window is filled only with cheese, and my stomach rumbles with a reminder that I’ve never in my life gone this long without eating.

  Soon, the bus slows down again. “Here we are at our next stop: the Empire State Building,” the booming voice announces. “This skyscraper stands one hundred and two stories tall!”

  I look up. The building towers above all the others. A needle juts out from the top of it, stabbing the sky. It’s the biggest thing I’ve ever seen. I feel itsy-bitsy beneath it, smaller than an ant. Down below, I spot a human eating a muffin, and my stomach lets out a hungry roar. Kaz laughs. “You better do something about that before your stomach gives us away.”

  I scurry off the ledge and start sniffing around for food. I find half a sandwich wedged under a seat. It’s nice and slimy, just the way I like it. I gobble part of it up and bring the rest to Kaz. “It’s no grass seeds, but I’ll take what I can get,” Kaz says.

  “Not on my bus, you won’t, darling.”

  I whip around. A squirrel is standing at the top of the bus’s stairs. His voice is low and breathy. He glitters in the sun, and as he glides over to us, I see why. The squirrel is dripping in diamonds. A diamond watch is belted around his stomach. A diamond necklace is twisted up his tail. Diamond rings glitter around each of his paws. “This bus, and all of its fabulous spoils, belongs to me. So just give that divine little sandwich to Sparkle here and get off the bus, and no one will get hurt.”

  Kaz bursts out laughing. “Get a load of this guy.” He pecks hungrily at the sandwich. “Like some squirrel could kick us off the bus.”

  “Yeah,” I agree loudly. It comes out a little shaky, though. The squirrel might be the same size as Kaz, but he’s a lot bigger than me.

  “Oh, sweetie,” the squirrel says in his breathy voice. “You’re not from around here, are you? Otherwise, you would know I’m not some squirrel.” The squirrel swishes his tail. His diamonds glimmer and clink. “I’m Sparkle the Sassy Squirrel, and I’m more famous than you can imagine. Last I heard, I have five hundred and sixteen YouTube features.”

  “Whoa!” I exclaim. “What kind of tubes are those?” Sparkle the Squirrel gives me a weird look, and I shake my snout. It doesn’t matter anyway. Rubber tubes, plastic tubes, paper tubes—any of them would make a killer tunnel if you had five hundred and sixteen.

  Sparkle climbs up next to us. “I have thousands of adoring fans. And do you know why? Because I give the tourists what they want. Glamour. Excitement. A taste of the New York City high life. And when they switch from fawning over me to admiring the photos they took of me, I slip into their shopping bags, and I do some shopping of my own.” He tosses back his head to show off a chain of diamonds looped around his neck. “The bus’s next stop is in the Diamond District. That, honey, is where the magic happens. If you’re not off the bus by then, I’ll have to make you get off.”

  Now even I’m laughing. “Make us? How?”

  Kaz looks up from the sandwich. “There’s two of us and only one of you,” he points out.

  “Oh, to be so deliciously innocent.” Sparkle shakes his head. His gems wink in the sunlight. “I’m going to tell you one more time. This is my bus. And I want you off.”

  “No.” The word slips right out of my snout. I can’t help it. I’m finally getting close to Oggie. I can’t let anyone stop me now. “I’m getting to my brother,” I insist.

  Sparkle glides closer, until we’re snout to snout. His breath smells like mint. “Let’s try that again, sweetie.” His black, beady eyes lock with mine. He doesn’t blink. “I said, I want you off.”

  My breath catches in my chest, but I don’t back down. “And I said no,” I repeat. “This bus is going to Central Park, and so are we. Nothing is getting in our way.” My snout curls up, revealing my incisors.

  Sparkle flicks his glittery tail. “We’ll just have to see about that,” he says.

  The bus rumbles. Footsteps pound onto the first floor. The booming voice returns. “Welcome to the Big Apple!”

  “Do you hear that voice, darling?” Sparkle asks. “That voice belongs to the driver, Carlos. He’s my most adoring fan. When I come aboard, Carlos’s tips triple. He would do anything for me.”

  The bus pulls into the street. Sparkle turns away from us. Slowly, he climbs along the ledge, toward the front of the bus. Buildings swirl past. Wind blows back my whiskers. The booming voice keeps talking as the bus picks up speed. Sparkle stops at the front of the bus. He crouches down on the ledge and looks back over his shoulder. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he calls out. Then he jumps off the bus.

  For a second, I can see him in the air: legs splayed out, tail ruffling, diamonds sparkling. He gives us a wink, and then he plummets to the street.

  The booming voice is replaced by a gasp. “What in the—no! SPARKLE!”

  The bus lurches. It shrieks. It jerks to a sudden, short stop.

  I can’t hold on tight enough. I fly off the ledge and tumble through the air. The world spins around me: ground, sky, ground, sky. And then I’m plunging down and it’s only
ground, ground, ground.

  I catch a glimpse of Sparkle landing gracefully on all fours. He planned this, I realize. Then I smash into the sidewalk, and everything goes black.

  PD Publishers Daily

  FAMOUS SQUIRREL NABS PICTURE BOOK SERIES

  A NEW YORK CITY institution in his own right, Sparkle the Sassy Squirrel has the stats of a star. He’s been featured on YouTube over five hundred times, and his videos surpass eight million in views. His photograph has been published in New York Magazine, Time Out New York, and multiple guidebooks. Now Sparkle will add another credential to his already impressive resume.

  The diamond-loving squirrel will be featured in a new picture book series by famed children’s book author Tommy Rivers. The first book, Sparkle Takes Manhattan, is slated for publication in the summer and already has thousands of preorders.

  Following the announcement, Tommy Rivers went on The Today Show to discuss his new project. “I live near 47th Street’s Diamond District, so I’ve personally encountered Sparkle several times,” he said. “For me, Sparkle is one of the reasons that New York is such a unique city. Only in New York can you find a diamond-wearing squirrel showing off for tourists! I’m honored to bring Sparkle and his sassy New Yorker attitude to kids all over the world.”

  CHAPTER

  27

  In the Lion’s Den

  Ow.

  Ow ow ow ow.

  My head feels like a wad of gum on the subway platform: smashed and mashed all out of shape. Black spots swim in my vision. Everything looks fuzzy: my paws, the bowl of water next to me, the metal bars—

  BARS?

  I blink furiously. My head roars with pain, but slowly my vision clears.

  Bars. Thick steel bars. On every side of me.

  I’m inside a cage.

  My heart pounds harder than my head. This can’t be happening. I squeeze my eyes shut. I think of the last thing I remember. Sparkle the Squirrel … getting tossed from the bus … and then … nothing. I must have gotten knocked out. Which means this is a dream. I’ll open my eyes again and it will all be gone.

  I open my eyes.

  I still see bars.

  “Well, look. The sweet little sugar pie is coming to.”

  I tense. I’m not alone. Slowly, I inch forward. I peek through the bars of my cage. “Whoa,” I whisper.

  I’m inside a room. It’s lined with shelves, and on those shelves are several cages, and in those cages are animals. My eyes dart wildly from one to another. Raccoon. Possum. Cat.

  My vision goes fuzzy again. I sway on my paws. Why am I in the same room as a cat?

  A plump skunk lifts a glossy black paw in a wave. A thick white line runs down her back and along her tail. “Well, aren’t you precious,” she drawls.

  “Poor kid.” This comes from the possum. He’s long and gray, his fur streaked white with age. “He looks terrified.”

  “’Course he’s terrified, Pierre,” the raccoon snaps. “Look at where we are.”

  “Where?” I whisper. “Where are we?”

  The cat snorts. “Shocking that a dim-headed rat wouldn’t know.” His voice is sharp and scratchy, like claws scraping against subway tracks. I shiver. It almost makes me glad for the bars that separate us.

  “Sure, Slink,” says a shrill voice. I look down to find another rat in a cage beneath the raccoon. She’s long and lean and has several patches of fur missing. “If only we could all be as brilliant as the cat who got caught pilfering milk from the mayor’s home.”

  Slink the cat’s tail bristles. “Say what you will, Truella, but like I said, this rat clearly doesn’t know.”

  “Know what?” I ask desperately. I gnash at the bars of my cage, but they’re made of thick steel. I can’t gnaw through them. I can’t squeeze through them, either. The gaps between the bars are too narrow. This cage is built for a rat.

  Pierre the possum yawns, revealing old, yellowed teeth. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, kid, but we’re in Animal Control.”

  “No.” I slide down to my belly. All I know about Animal Control is that once you go in, you never come out.

  “Poor little peach,” the skunk coos. “It could be worse. We’re not in the bad room.” She shivers, making her white stripe ruffle. “That’s where they take the sick and crazy ones. This room here is just the nuisance room.”

  “I knocked over one too many trash cans,” the raccoon grumbles.

  “I made it here all the way from Savannah, Georgia, just to spray the wrong human,” the skunk says with a sigh.

  “I played possum for a minute too long,” Pierre adds.

  “And I hear that you fell off the top of a bus,” the skunk says. “Got yourself knocked out cold. And bless your heart, you got lucky, too. From what I’ve heard, Animal Control would normally have finished a rat off right then and there—”

  “A travesty,” scoffs Truella the rat.

  The skunk shrugs her tail. “Maybe so, Truella, but you know it’s true. But apparently there was a huge crowd around you and the pigeon, and Animal Control didn’t want that kind of publicity. So they shipped you off to us instead.”

  “How long have I been in here?” My voice comes out all raspy. I’m finding it hard to breathe.

  “You were out for the whole night,” the skunk offers.

  “What? That’s too long!” I ram myself into the bars of the cage. “I have to get out of here.” I claw and gnash. My head throbs, but I don’t care. Pain doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters is getting free. “My brother needs me. And I have to find Kaz!”

  “Is that the pigeon?” Pierre asks with a yawn.

  I nod. “He was helping me find my brother. He was tossed off the bus too, and he could be hurt. He already has one wing that’s—”

  “Stubby?” the raccoon offers.

  “Yes.” My head snaps up. “How did you know?”

  “Psychic,” he grunts.

  “Oh, don’t you get too big for your britches on us, Rory,” the skunk scolds. “Honey pie, there’s a pigeon in the cage next to yours. He’s got one stubby wing, and he’s been sleeping ever since you two got here.”

  “Kaz!” I jam the tip of my snout through the bars. Out of the corner of my eye, I can just make out one of Kaz’s talons. “Kaz! Wake up!”

  “Raffie? That you?” Kaz’s voice is groggy. I hear the rustling of feathers. His beak pokes through the bars of his cage. “I’m in a small space.” Panic creeps into his voice. “This is not good. Really not good.”

  “Okay, stay calm,” I say quickly, even though I’m anything but. “We’re in Animal Control, but we’re just in the nuisance room. So we can find a way out, right?”

  “Sure,” Rory the raccoon grumbles. “In your dreams.”

  “I’m fixin’ to spray you right about now, Rory,” the skunk says.

  “You’re all talk, Sabrina,” Rory scoffs. “You know that spraying will get you sent to 3C.”

  “We’re all going there one day anyway,” Sabrina says. “I might as well get a good spray in first.”

  “What’s 3C?” I ask.

  “Room 3C,” Rory grunts. “Also known as the last place you’ll ever see.”

  A cry escapes me.

  “Not good,” Kaz whispers. “Really really not good.”

  “Don’t worry,” Sabrina says soothingly. “Just think of it as beddy-bye. A nice, long nap.”

  “Yeah,” Rory snorts. “Really long.”

  “But I can’t nap!” I say. “I have to get to Central Park West. I have to save my brother.”

  The door to the room swings open. The animals all fall silent. A man walks in. He’s short and thin and has so much hair, it looks like a bird’s nest. He slumps down at the table in the corner of the room and drops a key next to him. He’s carrying what smells like an egg sandwich and a soda, but for once, my stomach doesn’t even grumble.

  “Jimmy?” Another man pokes his head into the room. “Why are you eating in here?”

  “I
just want one breakfast without Mary breathing down my neck,” Jimmy groans.

  The other man nods. “I hear you. Well, take your time. But when you’re done, Mary says she wants this room cleared.”

  Jimmy’s eyes widen. “Cleared?”

  The other man shrugs. “That’s what she said. Something about wanting to take advantage of the publicity when those photos of the rat and pigeon hit the Internet.” He looks around the room with a sigh. “Seems extreme to me, but she’s the boss.”

  “And she never lets us forget it.” Jimmy takes a sip of soda. “I’ll start the transports to 3C after I eat.”

  The air in the room is suddenly much too thick. “Did he just say…?” I’m shaking too much to finish the sentence.

  Pierre’s old, tired eyes meet mine. “’Fraid so, kid.”

  In the next cage over, Rory glares at me. “Thanks to you, sounds like we’re all going to 3C.”

  CHAPTER

  28

  Nervous as a Long-Tailed Cat in a Room Full of Rocking Chairs

  My legs wobble like congealed jelly. I gasp for a breath, but I can’t seem to draw any in. Images flash through my mind. Oggie, climbing into my shoe box at night. Oggie, sliding down a slop-and-slide I made him out of leftover slop. Oggie, trapped in a cage, terrified and alone.

  I collapse onto my belly. I can’t believe this is happening. Oggie will never get home. I’ll never see my family again. And all these animals … My eyes dart from cage to cage. They’re all going to 3C. I bury my head in my paws. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper into my fur.

  “Don’t feel bad, sugar pie,” Sabrina says. “We were all going there eventually.”

  “Yeah, but not today,” Slink grumbles.

  I don’t look up. Slink might be an evil cat, but he’s still right. Oggie, Kaz, Sabrina … It’s over for all of them. And it’s all my fault. I’m like a train off the tracks, flattening everything in my path.