Dear friend, I wish I could inform you that we slept through that long train journey and woke refreshed, but that was not the case. Signal meant well, but he forgot to tell us that the train stopped at all stations. As soon as we settled down, we experienced unsettling jerks and clangs. The wheels slowed, screeching on the rails, and the wagon shuddered to a stop. Our door opened, some bags were taken out and other bags were brought inside. The humming bean who arranged the luggage wore heavy boots that rang unpleasantly on the metal floor. We were accustomed to the sounds of metal pipes in the old apartment building but this was much louder. Roger was the only one who slept through the station stops.
My whiskers twitched for the safety of my family. By chewing on the corner of one of the cartons, I discovered they contained cakes of rose soap, nothing edible, and each was heavy enough to stay in place during the bumps and jerks. But supposing these cartons needed to be unloaded at one of the stations? I fossicked about in the dark for an emergency hiding place and found it behind a large canvas bag of mail. If the worst happened, the guards might not see seven rats scuttling for cover. After all, the light was poor.
The worst, however, was not what I expected but something much more hazardous. This, dear friend, is what happened. Although I thought I would not sleep, I must have dozed, for I woke to cries from Retsina. “Alpha got off the train!”
“What?” I saw it was no longer night. Sunlight streamed through the open door, and the guard was lifting out two heavy leather bags. I looked at the ratlets. There were only three. “When?”
Retsina was crying. “Just now! Alpha was among the bags when the train stopped. The guard saw her. She ran out the door. Spinnaker, find her! Quickly!”
“Stay hidden!” I said, and then I raced past the guard and out the door, falling quite heavily onto the platform. I’m sure the guard didn’t see me, but the humming beans who were boarding the train did. They pointed their fingers and made loud noises. I ran alongside the carriages in a large station that had a glass roof. Morning sunshine flooded through, splashing heads and coat-skins and striking the rows of train windows. To one side was another platform with a green train pointed the opposite way. It would be easy to become confused and get back on the wrong train. Where had Alpha gone?
It is not easy to find a small rat among dozens of moving humming-bean feet. In fact, it was impossible. I ran the full length of the station, weaving between shoes, my whiskers twitching like grass in a gale. Why had she left the train? What direction had she taken? At any moment the train doors would close and I would lose the rest of my family. Oh, I assure you, I felt sick with fear. Then I saw her. She was leaping up the step of the carriage next to the engine. Yes, indeed, it was Alpha, my foolish, adventurous daughter. I ran after her, and horror, the whistle sounded and the doors began to close! All I could do was jump into the nearest carriage, several behind the one she had entered. I whisked my tail inside just in time. The door clamped shut behind me.
My vision was blocked by the large legs, but I was aware that something was happening in the carriage. It was only when the owner of the legs dropped a rectangular card on the floor that I realised the guards were looking at passengers’ tickets. It was time to move. I slid under the next seat before the owner’s eyes and hand made contact.
It occurred to me that the best way to get to Alpha’s carriage was under seats and past feet. Few creatures look down while they are talking to each other or staring out of windows. I moved stealthily down the row.
It had not occurred to me that Alpha would be trying to find her way back to the rear of the train. I suppose I should have guessed that my enterprising daughter would be returning to her family. From seat to seat I went, carefully choosing those moments when I was exposed, and about a third of the way along, I picked up her scent. I stopped, sniffed again. Yes, Alpha without doubt! Every good rat parent knows the scent of his or her offspring. But where was she?
Guided by my nose, I found the place where the smell was strongest, and I peered out between two trouser-skins. Here, there were seats facing each other, one occupied by a grown male and a young one, the other by a grown female and a sleeping infant. Next to the infant were some animal toys, and the smallest one was a grey rat. My Alpha was pretending to be a fluffy plaything. Oh, the clever ratlet! She had her eyes closed and was very still, but I could see from the prick of her ears that she was alert. I made a small squeak at a pitch above humming-bean hearing. Alpha’s eyes opened. She saw me and blinked in recognition, but did not lose her composure. Slowly, carefully, she slid away from a patchwork dog and crept under the end of the blanket covering the baby. From there, she dropped over the edge of the seat and ran behind the trouser legs. No one saw her. The big male was reading a newspaper and the female was talking to the young male. Clearly, they were a family.
“Papa!” Alpha whispered in my ear as she snuggled against me. “You were looking for me!”
I whispered back, “Why did you get off the train?”
“I had to, Papa. The guard with the luggage saw me. If I had come back, he would have followed me and found you all. The only thing to do was to jump out and get back in another carriage. Oh Papa, let’s go back to the luggage wagon.”
“We can’t. There’s no door between the carriages and the luggage.” Then I told her of a plan I had evolved. It had some risk, but could work. We would make our way to the last carriage in the train and wait under the seat nearest the door. When the train stopped at the next station, we would get out of the carriage quickly, before the porter came with the luggage cart, and then scurry into the back wagon.
She flicked her tail. “Good idea, Papa. Let’s go.”
We worked our way back under the seats, pausing at the end until someone opened the doors between carriages. The train was travelling fast, rocking from side to side, and people going through to the little poo and pee rooms were so busy finding balance that they did not notice two rats behind them. Going almost the full length of the train took a long time and I was concerned that we would stop at a station before we arrived at the last carriage.
As planned, we waited under the last seat in the final carriage. We leapt down the steps and onto the platform of a new station. Someone saw us. There was the old ratophobic cry, “Rats! Vermin!” But we didn’t hesitate. Alpha ran ahead of me to the steps of the luggage wagon. The door was wide open, and the humming bean with boots had not yet arrived. I followed and moments later we were behind the soap boxes, reunited with family.
Ah, what a joyful occasion! Retsina had greatly feared that she’d lost both husband and child, and she sobbed against me, soaking my fur. I hugged her. “Beloved wife, you should know I could never leave you,” I said, trying to comfort her.
Jolly old Roger lifted his head. “I told her you’d be all right.”
Retsina turned and hissed, “You said Spinnaker was gone for good.”
Roger put up a paw. “I was merely considering all options,” he said calmly.
With the delight of being together again, I had not noticed that all the suitcases had been taken off, and none put in. The train had been at the station for an unusually long time. Big feet clanged across the metal floor and two cartons of soap were lifted. My whiskers twitched. All the contents of the wagon were being unloaded!
“Where are we?” I asked.
Retsina sat up on her hind legs and peered around the edge of the cartons. “I don’t know. I think all the humming beans may have got off.”
It was Gamma who scrambled up a sheer wall of cardboard to see over the stack of boxes. “I see water,” he said. “In the distance! Blue water!”
I looked at Retsina. “Do you think we’re at Sunsweep?”
Before she could answer, the guard came back and lifted two more cartons. Now there was no doubt in my mind. We had to get off. I said to the ratlets, “This is as far as the train goes. The next time the guard comes in, we wait until he goes out, carrying the boxes, and we follow him. As he steps down to the platform, we come down behind him and run away from the train. Retsina, Roger, you lead the way. I will go last, should we be discovered and pursued.”
“And if they catch you?” Retsina was worried.
I smiled. “My dear, I don’t fancy the taste of humming bean, but if necessary, I will bite.”
I was so confident that the guard would be too busy to see us that I failed to notice the twitch of my whiskers. The heavy-footed humming bean grabbed another two cartons and turned towards the door. We slid out of hiding, Retsina first, Roger behind her, the four ratlets, and me at the back. The big boots went down the steps to a half-filled cart that stood on the platform. A line of grey fur slid down after him and turned sharply left. I followed, but the guard saw me. One of those heavy boots came down on my tail and I was caught! My claws scrabbled uselessly on the concrete as I watched the gap between me and my family widen.
The guard roared something and bent over. I struggled but his boot was crushing my tail and the pain was most unpleasant. I could do nothing to save myself.
I saw his hand come down. He was reaching for my head. The shadow of that broad palm and wide fingers came over me with the promise of death, and I struggled again. Then I sank my teeth into his thumb and held on.
He howled and tried to shake me off his hand. But his boot was still on my tail and every movement sent great pain through me. At last, he lifted his foot, gave a final shake of his fist and I fell back on the concrete. His boot rose up to crush me, but I was away like the wind, dragging my poor injured tail behind me.
Retsina and the others were waiting in the tall weeds at the end of the platform. I didn’t want to alarm my family, so I tried to make light of the incident, saying that the guard’s thumb tasted like mouldy cheese—although, to tell the truth, my tail was so sore that all I wanted to do was go away by myself and howl like a baby ratlet.
My fine tail was broken, dear friend. I knew it. I would have a lump near the end of my caudal appendage, and forever I would be known as Spinnaker the Ship rat with the crooked tail.