An American Tail: Tony Toponi's Story
Chapter 1
New York City: 1885It was another exhausting day just like any other in Moe's Sweatshop. The room was poorly lit by a single kerosene lantern, as dozens and dozens of mice toiled at making hundreds of mouse sized garments. Some mice were cutting fabric with large human-sized scissors; others huddled over rows of sewing machines. The air was hot and steamy, enough to make many of the mice cough. The bleak conditions were enough to make even the bravest of mice lose hope.
Tony Toponi hopped out of the way of an approaching human to avoid being stepped on, carrying a large load of clothing off to be ironed by fellow worker mice.
"Work faster, ya lousy bums!" Moe shouted over the noise of the room, "And Tony, don't you drop any of that clothes or it comes outta your pay check! Warren T. wouldn't be to happy about that now would he?"
Tony let out a deep sigh and continued carrying the huge pile of clothes from one end of the sweatshop to the other. He had been working here for nearly a year now. It had at first seemed like a good opportunity to get himself off the streets, but now Tony was beginning to think he'd rather go back to living in Orphan Alley than stay here. But of course, it wasn't up to him to decide. He might as well have been a slave at this point. True enough he wasn't getting paid himself for any of this, his salary went straight to Warren T. Rat's pocket to help keep the cats away. Tony cursed the day he had bumped into Warren on the street and had been offered this job. Warren had fooled Tony into thinking the job would be a good career starting opportunity.
With a grim expression as he turned these thoughts over in his mind, Tony at last dumped the pile into a wheel barrel and began pushing it towards its destination. He dropped it off over at the ironing boards and walked back to the sewing machines for the next load. It was then, that he first caught a glimpse of the little mouse that would change his life forever.
"Papa!" a little mouse exclaimed as Moe opened the door, causing everyone to turn their heads. The mouse then let out a shriek as Moe picked him up by the collar. Tony turned to watch as he lifted up the next pile of clothing, seeing none other than Warren T. Rat at the boy's side.
"You don't need a family now kid, you've got a job!" Warren chuckled, "Just send me his salary eh Moe?"
"But Warren…" Moe began.
"Hey ain't his money worth it to keep the cats away Moe old pal? Y'don't see any cats around here, do you? Let's keep it that way."
Moe groaned miserably and threw the new little mouse down hard. He got to his feet and dusted himself off, looking around the dirty, steamy sweatshop. His head turned suddenly as Warren T slammed the door shut and left.
"But…but I thought-" started the boy.
"We don't pay you to think!" yelled Moe suddenly, making Tony jump and nearly drop his clothing. Moe dumped another huge pile of cloth into the boy's arms and shoved him toward the sewing machines. "Get back to work you bums!!"
For the remainder of the day things went more or less normally. Incidents like that happened nearly once a week and though they were nothing special they were a welcome break from the daily toil and monotony. The fact that the boy was so young wasn't unusual either, there were already plenty of children working there, most of them orphans taken off the street, just as Tony was. Still, it bothered Tony greatly whenever a child was forced into the sweatshop, particularly one as innocent as this new addition seemed to be.
For the next few days as Tony sewed and carried clothing endlessly he found himself keeping an eye on the boy. A few times when he would get pushed around or made fun of by the other workers Tony would intervene and tell them to lay off the kid, until Moe yelled for them all to be quiet. Tony didn't know why he was so drawn to this boy, there was just something about him. But Tony had earned the respect among the younger workers; they weren't about to confront him whenever he defended the little mouse. But it wasn't until the forth night after his arrival however, that the two of them ever actually spoke.
Tony was sleeping on the top bunk of one of the bunk beds set up for the workers when a gentle sobbing awaked him. He looked around, and realized it was coming from the bed below him. There he saw that same child, his face buried in his pillow, crying his eyes out. Tony's heart sank.
"H-hey kid…" Tony whispered calmingly.
The boy's ears perked up, and he turned to look at Tony with tears rolling down his cheeks.
"What's the matter?" asked Tony in a whisper, though realizing this might be a pointless question given where they were.
The child wiped his eyes with his sleeve and sniffed, looking up at Tony. "I…I need to get out of here. I have to…so I can find my family…"
"Your family? You…have a family?" Tony asked with surprise. So this kid wasn't just another orphan, Tony thought. "Well…any idea where they might be?"
"I don't know, they were on a boat to America." The boy sighed, "I just arrived from Russia, but I was swept overboard…"
Tony nodded silently. Tony recognized he was in serious need of some help. His family probably didn't even know he was alive. Tony decided from that moment on he would do anything he could to help. He quietly climbed down from his bunk, and the child crawled out from under the covers to meet him.
"Tony Toponi's the name." Said Tony, patting the child's back.
"My name is Fievel, Fievel Mousekewitz." He said.
"Fievel?" Tony replied, having never heard a name like that. "That name's gotta go, you're in America now kid. Say how about…Fillie? Fit's you perfect!"
"Fillie?" Fievel repeated, giggling.
"Well then Fillie, we need to get you outta here somehow." Said Tony.
Another mouse, apparently overhearing then, laughed. "You'll never get out of here!"
"Nobody's ever gotten out of here." Added another sadly.
Another kid sat up, "The only way out of here is out the window, and its ten stories down!"
Fievel thought it over in his head. "I wish we had that mouse from the fairy tale, the one with the long, long hair. Then we could climb down."
At this several mice burst out in laughter and ridiculed Fievel. But Tony thought about what Fievel had said.
"Hey, I think he may be onto something here…" said Tony, glancing first at the bed sheets and then the piles of cloth in the next room.
The rest of the mice didn't get it at first, but when they saw what Tony was glancing at and then thought about Fievel's fairy tale, the idea came to them too. At once they began tying their bed sheets and the clothing together at the ends. With some effort, in a few hours they were able to make a rope of fabric long enough to reach out the window and down to the street below. One by one, each mouse climbed out to freedom.
Tony couldn't believe he hadn't thought up this plan sooner. He beamed proudly as he helped each mouse out the window, anticipating the first feeling of freedom he had tasted in nearly a year. But when he turned to leave himself, he noticed one thing…Fievel was missing.
"Hey Fillie, where'd you go?" Tony asked out loud. Perhaps Fievel had been so eager to get out and find his family he had left without Tony noticing. He bolted to the window, yelling, "Fillie! Fillie Mousekewitz! Hey Fillie!!"
Tony now felt worried. Could a small, innocent child like Fievel survive in the streets? Tony decided he had better track Fievel down himself and make sure he didn't get into any trouble.