Hamster Gangster

by Angela Robb

  The Big Cheese chuckles down the pipe. For once, I think he is pleased with me.

  ‘THIS TRUE THEN, IS IT, ’AMSTER? YOU REALLY ARE THE MEANEST GANGSTER ON THESE STREETS?’

  ‘The meanest by far,’ I tell him.

  ‘SHOW NO FEAR, DO YA?’

  ‘None whatsoever.’

  ‘AND NO MERCY?’

  I can hear the rats around me growling and exchanging angry whispers.

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘WELL THEN. SOUNDS LIKE EVERYONE IN TOWN KNOWS JUST HOW ’ARD WE ARE, IF THEY DIDN’T ALREADY.’

  I would like to correct him by saying that they know how hard I am … but it might be best to say nothing.

  ‘COME UP WIF A BETTER USE FOR THAT TALENT THAN SELF-DEFENCE AND I MIGHT JUST ’AVE A JOB FOR YA.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  As the meeting breaks up, I catch the wary glances of the rats as they slink from the chamber. By the looks of it, thanks to my new and fearsome reputation, no one wants to give me any trouble.

  Yet for some reason, Nev is pulling me along the pipe that leads deeper into the sewer. We stop in the shafts of light beneath a drain cover.

  ‘Rocco,’ says Nev, ‘you and I both know that story’s been completely exaggerated.’

  ‘Well, it’s been embellished a little …’

  ‘You did not throw a bicycle on someone.’

  ‘Um, no. But I did mastermind its collapse.’

  Nev looks so worried that I can’t help but feel that I might still be tweaking the truth.

  ‘All I’m saying is this: you have to keep living up to this new reputation of yours. If the rats start doubting how deadly you really are, then next time there will be four of them and there might not be a careless cyclist to save the day.’

  ‘Don’t worry about a thing,’ I tell him. ‘I’ll live up to it no problem.’

  ‘How?’

  I’m guessing that ‘By demolishing a whole load of alley cats’ wouldn’t be considered a sensible answer.

  ‘I don’t know. But all I have to do is step outside, and I guarantee that some proper action will happen.’

  Nev opens his mouth to say something, but then hesitates. ‘That certainly seems to be true.’ He sighs, and I think he feels a lot better.

  Now he’s hugging me. If I sound surprised, that’s probably because I haven’t had a hug since the day I was taken away from my mother.

  ‘You’re an honorary mouse, Rocco. One of us. You’re also a complete nutter, but somehow it seems to work for you. Anyway, you should know us mice stick together. We’ll help you out, any way we can.’

  You know, until this moment I’d thought of myself as an honorary rat. But to be one of the mice seems a very fine thing indeed, and now I come to think about it, I realise that I’ve felt like one of them since the minute I arrived.

  ‘I know,’ I tell him. ‘And pretty soon I’ll have a big say in things around here. Then things will look a lot brighter for us non-rats.’

  Nev just smiles and squeezes my shoulder, and we’re off again, back to the mouse house, I suppose.

  16

  The Cat is Out of the Bag

  As it happens, we have indeed returned to the mouse house. But perhaps not for long.

  ‘Rocco’s fierce reputation is backfiring,’ says Nev’s dad. ‘The meanest, angriest rats know he’s their biggest rival for the top job, and they’re already out looking for him. And this, right here, is the first place they’ll look.’

  ‘You’re right,’ says Nev’s mum. ‘It’s not safe for Rocco to stay here. In fact, it’s not safe for any of us to stay put.’

  ‘There’s only one thing for it!’ cries Tina. ‘We have to declare open war!’

  ‘Good thinking, Tina!’ I tell her.

  ‘All right. Here’s an alternative plan,’ says Nev, very forcefully. ‘Rocco should leave, keep on the move and out of sight. We’ll stay here, and when the rats come by, we’ll say he’s no longer our friend because we want no part in his crazy schemes. The rats are less than smart – they’ll believe us and go away.’

  ‘Then what?’ asks Cousin Pip.

  ‘Then … we’ll put a scrap of white napkin by the bins behind Chef Claude’s. Rocco, when you see that, you’ll know it’s safe to come back. Although you mustn’t be seen with us mice again, or they’ll know we lied.’

  ‘Agreed!’ I reply. ‘I’ll sneak out of here, and keep well out of sight!’

  That didn’t sound nearly as daring as I’d have liked.

  I am wandering around the streets, diving for cover each time I suspect there is a rat nearby. Not because I am not fearless, but because I am following Nev’s plan, and anyway, I prefer to spare their lives.

  It would be wise, then, to stick to the backstreets. I run up the nearest one, and hide under a parked car. It’s cool and shady under here … but a fat drop of motor oil on the head is enough to make me lose my patience. I need to do something. Something major. Something that will add to my reputation for fearsomeness, or courageousness, or general awesomeness. But what? I’ll just have to keep hanging around until I hit on a brilliant idea …

  There’s a tapping on the cobbles up ahead. It’s faint, but unmistakeable: the sound of someone with large, clawed toes running across the street.

  I peek out from under my parked car just in time to see a monstrous shadow looming on the wall at the end of the street. It is the shadow of someone with gaping jaws and jagged teeth, huge pointed ears and a bushy tail … Wait a minute, a bushy tail surely means … Yes – there he is: it’s a fox. But it can’t be one of our foxes, I mean this guy is not to be messed with.

  Actually …

  Is that Maurice?

  I remember what Nev said about the foxes being experts at acting fierce, and I must say I’m impressed. Maurice has slunk out of sight. Perhaps I’ll go after him, see where he’s off to …

  I stop dead, because it seems that our canine client is not alone. The shadow of a smaller animal is darkening the wall – someone low and sleek. I can hear a van rumbling along the road, so I duck behind the front wheel of my parked car. As soon as the van’s gone past I hurry straight out again, but the fox’s companion has slipped from my sight.

  So now I’m running to catch up. At the end of the street I round the corner at such speed that for a moment my back feet swing right out past my front ones. I tear across the road, and leap over the kerb … and press my back to the wall and stay very still, because … okay, because I really have to catch my breath, but also … I saw enough cartoons on Gary’s TV … to know that this is the proper way to spy.

  I’m just in time to see that bushy tail disappearing down the lane that leads to the foxes’ yard. Maurice’s mysterious acquaintance must have entered the lane first. I follow – tiptoeing at first, because that’s what spies do. But on the other hand, I’m small, which means I’m quiet even when I’m running, and also means that for me the lane is quite far away.

  So now I’m running again, as fast as I can.

  I pause, peering into the lane. It is very dark, despite the broad daylight. So this time it really is best to tiptoe.

  As I move along the lane I can hear voices. I can’t make out what they’re saying, so I tiptoe faster. Just ahead, the wall on the left has partly collapsed, allowing open access to the foxes’ yard on the other side. I scramble over a pile of broken bricks and peer cautiously through the gap.

  Maurice is sitting calmly in the middle of the yard, licking his paw. But where is his slippery friend?

  I can see movement inside the doorway of the nearest shed.

  ‘So what do you think?’ asks Maurice. ‘You’ve seen everything now.’

  ‘I most certainly have,’ replies a voice from the doorway, cool and aloof but definitely impressed.

  ‘Well then,’ says Maurice, ‘sh
all we be doing business?’

  ‘Oh, I think so.’

  The speaker steps out of the shed. I see pale fur, pointed ears, eyes gleaming with murderous intent. I see a cat.

  But no fluffy, pampered pet like my former housemate; oh no, this is a scrawny, mean-faced feline, face and tail black with dirt. She has bigger plans than attacking hamsters in plastic balls. I can’t breathe.

  This is an alley cat.

  ‘It’s perfectly simple,’ Maurice is saying. ‘You bring your payment, as discussed, and all of this is yours.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to it,’ purrs the cat. ‘As shall all the other members of my social circle.’

  I can’t believe it. The alley cats are coming. They’re taking over the docklands. The foxes are selling their patch to them.

  It’s a betrayal. And it’s about to become a war.

  ‘You know what we cats have to deal with. All this trouble over some ridiculous hyperactive hamster. I’ll soon take care of that, but it will be nice to do so after a well-earned rest and some delicious refreshments.’

  Maurice is saying something, but his voice is nothing but a dull echo in my head. I feel dizzy. The mice – some of them at least – suggested something like this might happen. Am I giddy with alarm, or excitement? I’m going to say excitement, and I’ll tell you why: because I swear that this is it. This is my chance to shine exactly as the Big Cheese wants me to.

  The evil meeting seems to be at an end. Maurice slinks into the furthest shed, and the cat – that smug, plotting, skin-and-bones alley cat – slips from the yard.

  I run as fast as any hamster can, all the way to the sewer, almost skidding as I pass behind Chef Claude’s on a white rag that was supposed to bring me back home to the mice, but I can’t go to the mouse house right now.

  17

  Visiting Old Friends is More Dangerous Than You’d Think

  The rats have stopped looking like they’re about to kill me. Instead, they appear panic-stricken. Even the Big Cheese has gone quiet.

  ‘SO … YOU MEAN THE ALLEY CATS ARE MOVIN’ IN?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘TO ENJOY THE FINE CUISINE, OR TO KILL THE HYPERACTIVE ’AMSTER?’

  ‘Both, I think. In that order.’ This feels like a very proud moment. ‘News of my deeds has reached the alley cats,’ I declare. ‘They feel threatened and their pride is hurt: we, the rodents, are the most feared gang of all.’

  Murmurs of agreement from the crowd.

  ‘Their desire is to sneak into these docklands, destroy us, and take all the glory. Not to mention the food: let me tell you, no scrap is safe.’

  Cries of alarm and outrage.

  ‘Of course, they know now something of the foxes’ true nature – Maurice was his usual well-mannered self. But those foxes are cunning animals. I’ll bet they’re letting those cats believe they really do have a murderous side that’ll soon shine through if the cats try anything clever. Because these kitties are not so big; in fact, the one I saw was puny and thin. That’s why, rather than risk a fight, they have offered the foxes some kind of payment they cannot refuse, in exchange for their territory.’

  A cloud of fear and fury hangs over the chamber. Puny and thin as the cats may be, it now seems that they’re also rather smart.

  ‘I ALWAYS KNEW THOSE FOXES WAS NOTHIN’ BUT TROUBLE.’

  I hope that’s not all the Big Cheese is going to say. Everyone looks uncomfortable, waiting for the boss rat to announce his plan of action. I risk looking around for my friends. I can see Nev up the back of the room. And Tina, already practising her karate chops.

  ‘So what do we do?’ someone shouts at last.

  ‘We need more facts,’ says a small rat near the back. ‘We need to know exactly what them cats is up to, and when they’re plannin’ on comin’.’

  ‘WE NEED MORE FACTS.’

  ‘You mean someone should go see the mole?’ asks another voice.

  ‘I MEAN SOMEONE SHOULD GO SEE THE MOLE.’

  They must mean my good friend, Dwayne. It would be so much fun meeting him again.

  ‘I’ll go,’ I say.

  ‘ALL RIGHT THEN. THE ’AMSTER WILL GO SEE OUR MOLE AND FIND OUT WHAT HE KNOWS.’

  ‘Absolutely. I’ll find out what he knows.’

  ‘AND ’OO ARE YOU TAKIN’ WITH YOU?’

  ‘Actually, I’m quite happy to work alone.’

  A rat standing near me shakes his head and draws a finger across his throat.

  ‘NO CAN DO. YOU GO SEE THE MOLE IN PAIRS. IN CASE ONE OF YOU GETS POUNCED ON BY AN UNFRIENDLY GANG, OR EATEN ON THE WAY BACK.’

  ‘Eaten?’

  ‘THEM’S THE RULES. SO ’OO’S IT GONNA BE?’

  ‘I’ll go with Rocco,’ shouts Nev. ‘A white-and-gold hamster sticks out so badly that he might as well wear a target on his back. Especially one who’s made such a name for himself. So you want someone small and hard to spot going with him.’

  I don’t feel hurt by this, because you must remember that Nev is playing the part of someone who no longer wishes to be my friend.

  ‘THAT FIGURES. IT’S SORTED THEN. THE ’AMSTER AND THE MOUSE WILL GO SEE THE MOLE TONIGHT.’

  We’re back in the mouse house. Nev’s parents, Uncle Alfie and even Cousin Pip are in a gloomy mood. Nev looks as though he’s thinking very hard.

  ‘Nev,’ I say, ‘I want to thank you for coming with me. I know it must seem like my courage is endless, but I do know that this could get dangerous.’

  ‘It’s like I said,’ he replies. ‘Us mice stick together. I couldn’t let you go with any of those rats, could I?’

  ‘You know,’ says Nev’s dad, ‘it’s true that we small folk stay out of trouble as much as possible. But going looking for danger, and facing up to it when it comes knocking, well those are two different things. And we face danger head-on most days of our lives.’

  ‘And besides’ – Nev points towards the wall with his thumb – ‘you don’t have a whole lot of choice, when you’re trying to hold on to someone who’s wriggling like crazy, and you’ve got your hand over their mouth, except they’re biting it like they’re trying to draw blood …’

  Until now I hadn’t really noticed Tina, lying curled up in the shadows. Without getting up, she turns herself around to face the wall. I realise now that she wanted to come with me, and tried to say so back in the chamber.

  I feel sad for her. I’d go over and cheer her up … if only I knew how …

  ‘So Nev,’ I say quickly, ‘you’re the expert on visits to Dwayne. I’ll leave it to you to decide when we should begin our mission.’

  ‘Well, the foxes that live around the park only come out late at night … There are other rodent gangs, of course, and pet cats, but you can come across them any time. The biggest threat will be the owls in the park. But again, they usually come out late. So the best time is probably sunset, just as it gets dark.’

  Something he just said has given me a queasy feeling.

  ‘Did you say owls?’

  ‘I sure did. You remember what the Big Cheese said about being eaten?’

  Owls: silent assassins of the night. I’d mop the floor with their feathered faces, of course, but it’s rather difficult to hear them coming.

  ‘That’s settled then,’ I declare. ‘We leave at sunset.’

  18

  I, Spy

  It’s been a cloudy evening, and now, as the sun goes down, it’s already pretty dark. Nev says that’s a good thing. He’s stealing along the pavement like a secret agent whose cover’s just been blown, and I’m making sure to do likewise.

  It turns out that I went the long way when I surfed downtown through the drainage system. In fact the docklands are not far from Dwayne’s park; not when you’re running like we are, at least. Nev’s tail and the soles of his feet are all that I can see in fr
ont of me. He’s light and speedy and it’s a bit of a struggle trying to keep up. We’re running under hedges or close in against railings, pausing from time to time to hide from passing pedestrians.

  Nev stops suddenly, and I almost run right into him. He is pointing at something across the street.

  I recognise the park gates immediately, although it’s almost completely dark now and the orange street lights are just warming up. To my surprise, I am already alone on the pavement. Nev has sprung on to the road and, in an instant, has almost reached the other side. I can just about make out his small grey figure as he jumps on to the kerb opposite. He turns around.

  ‘Rocco!’ he hisses. ‘Why are you still standing there?’

  ‘Sorry!’ I whisper back.

  I leap on to the road. As my feet hit the tarmac, I am suddenly aware of a pair of bright lights, coming towards me fast.

  ‘NOT NOW!!!’ yells Nev.

  I lie flat. My hands are over my head. Mustn’t move. An engine roars loud. Mustn’t die. I open one eye: blinding white light … now pitch black.

  Am I dead?

  Well, the street lights are back … the engine is fading into the distance … and Nev is shouting.

  ‘Get up, Rocco, you crazy hamster! Get over here now!’ It seems I have curled myself into the tightest of balls. I untangle my limbs and hurry across the road. ‘For a second there I thought you were dead.’

  ‘Actually, that was carefully timed so I’d land in that exact spot just as the car passed over.’

  Nev gives me an exasperated look that quickly dissolves into relief. ‘Come on then,’ he says, ‘let’s go see the mole.’

  We turn towards the gates. It’s dark in the park; the way through is marked by a few splashes of white light from the lamps lining the path.

  ‘We stick close together,’ says Nev. ‘I’ll scan around and behind us, you keep a watch on the sky. You ready?’