Chapter 37

Rodney’s Prisoners

Tramp sat in the middle of the floor, happy to see Pauly, but sad because he had no idea how to get him out of the cage and into the backyard.

Pauly’s golden crest was drooping alongside his beak. He tried to rock and step to an unheard tune.

“About time,” he said and tripped, falling to the edge of the cage that kept him captive.

The cage was centered between two bars that ran from the ceiling to the floor through one shelf. There were nine bars. That made ten spaces for stolen animals. Pauly was five spaces from the left.

Each space had a different smell that told Tramp a little about the prisoner inside.

Calico had been here, Finn had been here, a St. Bernard had been here. Tramp ignored most of what he heard and smelled.

He had to get Pauly out.

He put his nose between the cage and the edge of the shelf. Suzette stayed at the stairs, her ears up for any sound from Rodney’s room. “It’s okay, Pauly. Calico’s waiting for you. I’ll get you out of here.” He had no idea what to do next except try to make Pauly feel better.

“Here’s what we’ll do,” said Pauly. “Rodney put the cage door against the wall. He knows I can’t get my beak around the stupid stick that’s holding the door closed. In his mind, I’m locked in for the night. You just have to turn the cage around and pull the stick out. The door flies open when you pull the stick out. Be careful. And look on the wall,” Pauly said.

“You mean there’s no lock?” Tramp said.

Pauly pulled himself up off the floor of the cage, and stared right into Tramp’s eyes.

“No lock. Eddy and Rodney are too cheap to buy a lock if they can keep me in here with a stick. Now turn this cage around,” he almost hissed.

Tramp jumped and pushed the cage to the left with his nose.

No movement, the door was wedged against the wall.

One more jump and a push to the right. The cage rotated a few inches.

“That’s it, just a couple more jumps,” Pauly sounded hopeful.

The fifth jump got the cage facing front.

“Now jump up and pull the stick out.” Pauly’s voice sounded almost normal.

“Suzette, can you come over and help?” Tramp asked. “You’re taller.”

She walked nervously towards them, looking back at the stairs. “What can I do?”

“I’ll stand very still. You climb up on my shoulders and pull that stick out,” Tramp said.

She looked at Tramp, her head tilted to the side, “You sure?”

“Yup. Sure.” He knew from his experience with Calico he had the balance and strength. He knew nothing else was needed.

“Okay, let’s try,” she said as she jumped on his back, quickly put her paws on the shelf and pulled the stick out. The door sprang open, hitting Suzette on the muzzle and knocking her to the floor. She jumped up and leaped towards the steps, her ears alert.

“I’m fine. Let’s get out of here,” she said.

Pauly stepped up on the edge of the cage and jumped out onto Tramp’s head. He dug his talons into his fur.

“The wall, look at the wall,” Pauly said. Tramp ignored the instruction. He ran to the steps.

“There are other animals here, and they need rescue too,” Pauly said.

“What can I do about the other animals?” Tramp asked.

“You can talk to them, tell them you’ll help. Start with that bulldog over there,” Pauly said.

“Okay. Back there, huh.” Tramp headed towards the bulldog smell, without Pauly.

“Please help me,” said a voice from the back of the dark cage. “My name is Flip.”

Flip? Flip the bulldog? Tramp had seen him on Big Bob’s TV, on news programs. Flip had been stolen from an old lady across the lake and had never been found.

Until now.

Flip lay on his back with his legs flopping in the air. His eyes stared right into Tramp’s when he looked in. Flip’s talent seemed to be the ability to sleep all day in one position. He became a celebrity when his owner put pictures of her upside-down bulldog with his legs in the air on the Internet. His upside-down pink lips made him look like he was smiling right at the viewer. His short floppy legs made it look like he was waving at the viewer.

Tramp could tell he had been in Rodney’s basement awhile. His cage hadn’t been cleaned, probably since Mrs. Rodney took off. Flip was hardly moving. Tramp knew he was alive by his breath. But he might not live long without help.

“I’ll be back.” Tramp meant every word.

Flip rolled over and stood on wobbly legs. “I believe you. But you have to hurry. I don’t know how long I can hold out. And we can’t leave the mice,” he gestured with his wrinkled face towards the other end of the shelf.

Tramp had ignored what he thought had been a ringing in his ears. It wasn’t a ringing. It was a bunch of brightly colored mice in a cage jammed against the other wall. They were standing against the mesh of their cage singing in high pitched voices. “Get us out. Get us out. You’ll be glad. You’ll be glad!”

Tramp put his paws on the shelf. “I have to get Pauly out of here and bring the police back to get Rodney and Flip and you guys. Who are you anyway?”

“We’re the Angel-Mouse Chorus. Rodney’s gang grabbed us at the airport on the way to our last gig,” the whole chorus sang. “We used to be white. Rodney dyed us the color of his suits. We don’t know what’s going to happen to us. The other animals we met down here never came back,” they chimed and pointed at the empty spaces on the shelf.

“I’ll be back for you,” Tramp said as Pauly jumped on his head. Tramp followed Suzette up and towards the kitchen door. They had to get out before Rodney showed up.