“I’m only blind lookin’ frontways,” Scratch said on their way to the tailor. “My sideways vision’s OK. I can’t see where I’m goin’, but I know where I’m at.”
Scratch was a cranky old rat who hissed and snapped at everyone, but that was just his way. He told the Incredible Impostor he was the oldest rat in Rat City. In fact he may be the oldest rat in Rat Land. He started counting the years when he became Scratch and stopped when he reached 120, but he didn’t know how long ago that was. He thought that he would probably live forever, so why count?
On a busy alley corner Scratch opened up his rat pouch and they drank the juice to go. Scratch drank it down quickly, then crawled off to a humping hole on the corner. By the time the Incredible Impostor finished his drink, Scratch visited two more humping holes and came back with a smile.
“To the tailor hole,” said Scratch. “You got a name, now you need a suit. There’s nuthin’ like seein’ ya win in a good suit.”
A sign in the dirt wall above the hole said, STAR TAILOR WRESTLING SUITS—TWO MINNET FIT.
The Incredible Impostor would soon find out that rats are excellent stitchers as well as cutters.
The chief tailor greeted them at the entrance. He wore a torn-off piece of measuring tape around his neck. Through narrowed eyes he examined the Incredible Impostor, and he sniffed him up, down and sideways. On a piece of cardboard, the tailor rat drew a wet nose sketch of a costume. Scratch hissed dissatisfaction at him, then out of his pack he took the sketch of his own. They borrowed from one sketch, added to the other. In that manner they created the costume for the Incredible Impostor.
THE IMPOSTOR, it said, big gold letters on the front and on the back.
Scratch took two steps back and studied it.
“That ain’t right,” said Scratch.
From a storage hole the chief tailor dragged out a can of gold paint and he opened the paint can and added another word to the costume. He took his time and he used a lot of paint. Finished, he stepped back and now it said THE INCREDIBLE IMPOSTOR.
The tailor stuck the design on the dirt wall.
He scratched the dirt floor and six gray rats came out of another hole, spools of black thread stuck around their sharp tails. They shuttled up and down, back and forth, crisscrossing the tall impostor. They sewed the costume right on him using their needle tails.
The sign outside the tailor’s hole is correct. In two minutes they had a perfect fit.
“He’s a big rat,” said the rat tailor. “I charge extra for materials.”
Outside, Uncle Brucker stood at the store front, admiring his new suit in the mirrors. Two silver mirrors stood side by side. The mirror on the right was broken. He saw the reflection of a man in the left mirror. In the cracked mirror on the right he saw the reflection of a rat. Man, rat, man, rat, and on and on.
Rat Land was a strange and beautiful place to Uncle Brucker. Beautiful to the rat in him and strange to the man in him.