Only Fred was dry-eyed. And confused. To her mind, the Rat was telling a pretty ordinary story. About a little deer getting bigger. What kind of a tragedy was that? Would there be a fatal bee sting? Or a hunter? She was still waiting for the part of the story where the Hart ran into an electric fence, or broke a leg, or at the very least failed his math exam. Something bad must have happened.
The Rat Queen said, “When I think back, I regret how little patience I had with Hart’s questions. Why is water so flat? When do numbers end? What are mean people for? Why can’t I eat only chocolate ice cream? How I would love to hear those questions now, even if he asked them again and again and again and again.”
Gogo blew her nose with a honking sound, Downer with a hinking sound, and the Rat with a sort of hazow, hazow. Fred started to space out, in her Fred way. She thought about a doll she used to have, with green eyes, whom she had called Green Eyes. She hadn’t seen Green Eyes for years; where could she have gone? Was Green Eyes with that round coin that had TUIT written on it in red letters? What about that little fire truck that was also an eraser? Where was the bead necklace of many colors but with one golden bead that was larger than the other beads? What about the fuzzy puffy pumpkin stickers she had saved? Where were the overalls with the small rainbow on them? Where was her foam sword? Her deep interest in penguins? Her detailed knowledge of the moons of Saturn? Where had all that stuff gone? For that matter, where had her mom—
Something was shaking Fred’s arm. It was Downer, whispering: “Pay attention!”
The Rat was saying: “… so you can see why I decreed that time could no longer pass. You understand, right? You understand the Essential and Very Good and No One Can Disagree with Rat Rule 79 now? I had no choice. I made that decree the day before Hart’s… well, I’m allowed to say it, since I’m the Ruler… before his Birthday. Hart was angry, of course. Every young person loves their Birthday. But sometimes you have to make sacrifices for the greater good. Clearly it would be a tragedy if Hart—if any creature!—were allowed to get older. Children Are the Best Thing in the World, right? And we all know that too many birthdays can kill you. They do. It’s a fact! Do you know anyone who doesn’t die after too many birthdays? Not to mention that it’s easier to remember your age if you don’t change it all the time. Hart should have been thanking me. Everyone should be thanking me.” She blew her nose. “But no one is thanking me. And Hart stormed out of the house, and I haven’t seen him since.”
She paused and, this time using an old watermelon rind, wiped tears from her ratty eyes. When she spoke again, her voice was different, softer. “Please don’t tell anyone that I’m not being held captive by the Fearsome Ferlings. Please don’t tell anyone that I’m just really, really, really, really, really, really sad. I had no choice but to hide away. Even though I did the right thing with The Essential and Very Good and No One Can Disagree with Rat Rule 79. I’m not wrong, right? If I let children grow up, then there would be no children left anymore. It’s either No Children or No Birthdays. Either Left or Right. Either Right or Wrong.”