A Hartfelt Chapter
“Objection, Your Honor!”
The Pegasus rapped his gavel again. “Whoa, everybody. Whoa.”
“Objection, Your Honor,” the voice from the audience repeated.
It was a sweet voice. And young. But not very young.
Hart! Fred thought joyfully. Hart has arrived!
“Step up and state your objection, young sir,” commanded the robed flying horse.
Hart elegantly trotted forward. “11:43 p.m. Fred is the same person as the 11:21 p.m. Fred,” Hart said. “It doesn’t matter how long or short her nails are. It doesn’t matter how old or young she is. Fred is Fred. We know it in our hearts.”
Fred’s heart sank. In her heart, she agreed with Hart. She stood up and at long last spoke for herself. “Hart is right. What the hart is saying is what I think, too.”
A shocked murmur rippled through the crowd. Pegasus said, “Little lady, you just admitted that you broke the law. You got anything to add, Owl?”
The Know-It-Owl sat quietly. She also knew Hart had a point.
“Not so fast, Your Honor,” Hart said with dignified calm.
The room was silent.
“Your Honor,” Hart continued quietly, “Rat Rule 79 requires Fred to not grow up. But that’s asking the impossible. Fred is a kid. Kids grow up. They can’t help it. And you can’t be guilty of a failure to do the impossible.”
“Why not?” asked the Pegasus judge.
Hart replied, “Because the girl has done no wrong. It’s Rat Rule 79 that’s in the wrong here. It’s not essential, it’s not at all good, and I disagree with it.”
There were gasps. Even the judge gasped.
“That’s what I wanted to say,” Hart said. “Also: when I was a stranger, Fred and her friends shared their Irrational Love Noodles with me.”
Hart stood his ground.
There was a loud scuffling and clattering—the sound of aluminum cans, orange peels, old glass bottles. The mongeese were suddenly streaming down from Downer’s back. Onto which the Rat had climbed up. She was still in her shabby robe. But she seemed to have a dignity within her. She seemed, again, like a Queen.
From above, she looked around. Would she be angry? Vengeful? Hurt? Would there be a New Law?
The Rat coughed.
The Fears leaned in.
Picky Mouse checked his watch.
Dogma stood at attention.
The rabbits were at the ready.
The fish held their breath.
The Ferlings were flushed.
The Unlearning students covered their ears but kept their eyes open.
The Rat took a deep breath and said: “I owe you all an apology.” She coughed again. “I was wrong. Very wrong. I’m sorry about Rat Rule 79. It was stupid. It is not true that Too Many Birthdays Can Kill You. It only sounds true. I took unfair advantage of that. The truth is that The Person Who Has the Most Birthdays Lives the Longest.”
Clapping and cheering and even party horn tooting erupted from the audience.
“And to you, Hart, I especially owe an apology. I am so proud of the deer you have grown up to be. I loved you when I met you, I loved you as you were at 11:21 p.m., and I love you now, and I will love you forever. Happy birthday.”
Hart approached the Rat, and the Rat scurried across Downer’s back and down his trunk and approached Hart. They hugged.
Then the Rat climbed up onto Hart’s back and shouted: “For the avoidance of doubt and further heartbreak, I declare Rat Rule 79 to be null and void!”
The Pegasus rapped the gavel with great enthusiasm. “Yippee! Time is hereby un-adjourned! Folks of the jury, you are discharged. Fred, getting older is no longer a crime and never was. You are free to leave and celebrate your birthday. I declare as follows, by golly: it’s time for cake.”