The raccoon pulled out some food from the garbage can and offered it to Hunter.
“Thank you,” Hunter said. It wasn’t nearly as tasty as the meat Taylor had given him, but it was still good. Besides, Hunter wasn’t here for food. He was here for conversation.
“How is your family?” the raccoon asked.
“The kittens are getting bigger all the time. They are becoming such good hunters,” he said proudly.
“And Mittens?”
“She’s…well, everything that’s going on with the junkyard is upsetting her.”
“It should be upsetting to everybody.”
“Not everybody,” Hunter said. “Some of the cats are acting like nothing is happening.”
“They would have to be deaf and blind and without a sense of smell to not know something was happening.”
“They know something is happening. They just don’t believe it is going to affect them in a bad way.” He paused. “Maybe they’re right. What do you think?”
“What I think isn’t important. What do you think?” the raccoon asked.
“I’m not sure what to think,” Hunter said.
“Then what do you see? What is happening?”
“They’re moving the wrecks out of the yard, but the older cats say that has happened in the past,” Hunter said.
“I’m older than any of the cats in the colony, so I, too, remember that they used to move cars out of the yard all the time.”
“So they’re right?”
“They’re half right,” the raccoon said.
“How can they be half right?”
“Because they are half wrong.”
“I don’t understand,” Hunter said. “Can you explain, please?”
“Certainly. When the junkyard was open, the humans moved the wrecks out.”
“Like now.”
“But they also moved cars in. Are they bringing any wrecks in or only removing them?”
“I’m not sure. They could be moving wrecks in.”
“They could be doing anything, but don’t tell me what you want to believe. Tell me what you do believe,” the raccoon said.
Hunter thought about the increasingly large tracts of open space in the junkyard. He thought about the whole rat colony being gone. He thought about the cars he had seen leaving and how he had not seen any entering. He knew he had to think with his head, not his heart. He had to decide what was right, not what he wanted to be right.
“They’re not moving wrecks in,” he said. “They aren’t filling up the yard, they are emptying it.”
The raccoon nodded his head.
“But there are so many wrecks. The humans could get tired or give up before they get to our colony.”
This time the raccoon shook his head. “These humans do not get tired or give up. They are going to clear out the entire yard, and that will be just the beginning. They will work until they have built new dens, tall dens. The dens will look like the pictures on the fence.”
“How can you be so certain?” Hunter asked.
“Aren’t you certain?”
Hunter was afraid to say what he believed. But not saying it wouldn’t change it from happening. “I know we have to leave,” he said. “I just don’t know where we’re going to go. Do you know a place?”
“I can look. I can ask other raccoons,” he said. “Would it be a place for a few cats or for everybody?”
“Most of them won’t be willing to leave.”
“Then you need to convince them,” the raccoon said.
“I don’t know if I can.”
“You have to. If they don’t leave, they will die. Try to convince them. Who knows, they might realize you’re going to be a good leader and leave with you.”