Author's note: How to Pronounce Cimarron (Sim-AR-on) like "let's simmer down" with an "on" at the end.
Chapter 1: The Thief
Cimarron ran as fast as she could, clutching the sack of food close to her, dodging in and out of the crowd as her violin case bounced against her back. Why oh why did she allow herself to be caught? She was better than this at sneaking food away. She was so stupid to have tried stealing the food while there were guards around, but she was so hungry. Usually, she would have bought the food with the money she made by playing her violin in the streets. But there were times when no one seemed generous enough to give her just one gold coin, and today was one of those days. And on those unfortunate days, she would be forced to steal food from carts in the street or sneak in the back of bakeries and snatch a few loaves.
Quickly she took to the alleyways, panting heavily as she sprinted, hoping to lose them in the maze of the alley. At the end of one long lane, she saw that she had run straight towards the Rat Trap, a grubby looking tavern full of ruffians and low-lives. She wasn't too fond of going there, but she did have a friend there who gave her refuge there when she was on the run. Deciding to hide and catch her breath there, she gripped her black cloak tighter around her and made for the bar.
As usual, the noisy pub was in full swing. The smell of cigarette smoke, beer, and sweaty rogues filled Cimarron's nose. Rough looking men and scantily dressed women sat at the tables, talking and laughing as they played poker, drank large tankards of beer, or sharpened their knives. Some men flirted with the waitresses as they passed by, earning them either a sly wink back or a punch in the nose. Smoke from the cigars and cigarettes slightly clouded the room, making it a little hard to breathe. A few young girls were dancing on stage for their entertainment as some of the men watching whistled and cheered for them.
As Cimarron went to find a seat, some men who saw her nudged others and pointed at her, wiggling their eyebrows. They leered at her, sly grins curving their faces. Ignoring them, she sat down at a table near the bar, wiping the sweat from her brow and taking deep breaths to slow her rapid heartbeat.
"Cimmy? Is that you, dearie?" a sweet familiar voice called. Cimarron looked up, smiling at her dear friend. Delara was a chubby mouse with light brown fur, curly black hair, and warm glittering brown eyes. Her face was very motherly, as well as her personality, but Cimarron knew full well that she was also a very tough woman, and did not let any rodent push her or her friends around.
"Hello, Delara," she panted, still trying to catch her breath.
"Cimmy! It's been a while since you came and visited our lil' pub!" she said happily, wrapping her large arms around her in a loving hug. As she pulled back to look at her, she frowned as she saw the flush in her face. "Sugar, you look like you've been running. What happened?"
"I didn't… make good money today, so… I had to steal some food. I nearly got caught… by the guards, but I lost them in the alleys," Cimarron panted.
"You were stealing again?" Delara sighed, rolling her eyes. "Sugar, I understand you want to be independen' an' make your own money an' all tha'. But I told ya before, if ya can't get your daily bread, come to me! We got plenty o' food in the pantry."
Cimarron sighed. "I know, I know. I just forgot, I suppose."
"Well, make sure it don't happen again, or I'll be sending your hide to the Yard meself!" Delara teased, putting her enormous fists on her wide hips in an attempt to look more intimidating.
Cimarron laughed. "I'll keep that in mind, you traitor."
"Be sure you do," Delara said, leaning down and putting one flabby arm around her shoulders, squeezing them. "Because my home is your home."
Cimaron smiled, putting her arm around her wide waist and hugged her back. "Thanks, Delara. I can always count on you."
"Not a problem," she said sweetly. She looked around, frowning at some of the people who were looking at them. "What are you all gawkin' at?" she snapped harshly. "It's not like you've never seen a mouse servin' a customer, have you?" The onlookers hastily turned back to their usual business; customers of the Rat Trap knew Delara was not a waitress to be messed with.
"You know they're staring because it's unusual for a rat and a mouse to be friends," Cimarron mumbled bitterly.
"Ah, these bags o' low-lives don't give a whit if you're a rat or not. The Rat Trap is a place for all walks o' life. Even if they do care, don't you mind them," Delara said, waving her large hand dismissively. "They want to be a bunch o' racist pigs, let 'em. Now, what can I get you, sugar?"
"A tall glass of ice cold water, please," Cimarron answered, opening up her bundle with her meal in it.
"You got it, sweetie. An' if any of these thugs come givin' you a hard time, give me a holler," Delara said, winking at her and heading towards the bar.
Cimarron chuckled as she helped herself to her food. She really had to admire her friend's spunk. She herself wasn't quite as loud as Delara was. Of course, she will speak up for herself when she needed to, but she didn't have Delara's tough attitude or quick comebacks that made her the head waitress of the Rat Trap. Cimarron was a little quieter and didn't get quite as worked up when someone bothered her, and she always tried to turn the other cheek before thinking about starting a brawl. But she was tough and determined rat, with shoulder length brown hair and golden fur, and bright blue eyes that shone with gentleness and spirit.
"'Ere you go, sugar," Delara said, who had returned and placed an enormous mug of water in front of Cimarron, perspiration trickling down the side. "Ice cold, and on the house. And 'ere's a canteen for you if you need it," Delara added, handing her a large silver canteen that was already full and cold to the touch.
"Thank you so much, Delara," Cimarron replied, taking large sips from her mug. The cold water felt so good and soothing sliding down her sore throat.
"You're welcome, dearie," Delara said sweetly. "If you need anythin' else, let me know, alrigh'?" With that, Delara left her to serve her other customers, including a skinny young fellow who smiled at her as he took his mug of beer from her.
"Hey sweet cheeks," he said slyly. "I saw you servin' your lil' lady rat friend over there, gave her somethin' a lil' extra." He leaned closer to her, leering at her. "How 'bout you can give me somethin' a lil extra, if you know what I mean, eh?"
Delara smiled sweetly. "Oh, I'll give you somethin' extra, dearie." With that, her fist flew forward and punched the obvious newcomer in the nose, causing him to topple over out of his chair. Tears ran down his face as he clutched his bleeding broken nose while the men around him guffawed loudly.
"How's THAT for a lil' somethin' extra, eh, boys?" Delara called out. The men cheered for her, raising their glasses to her. "I'll drink to that, Delara!" one called out, taking a large swig.
Cimarron laughed and watched in amusement as some of the mouse's friends picked him up as he pinched his nose, saying things like "I TOLD you not to flirt with her" and "You had it coming, mate" to which the unfortunate mouse said "Shut it" and shoved them away. But her smile did not last long as she looked towards the door and saw, to her horror, a few guards came in.
Her heart pounding fast, she shoved her things in the outside pocket of her violin case and waved at Delara, who came to her immediately.
"What is it, sugar?" she asked, seeing the terrified look in Cimarron's eyes.
"There are guards at the door!" she whispered frantically, pointing towards the door as she pulled her hood back on her head. "I need you to distract them. Do you have a back door or someplace where I can escape?"
"Yes. There is a trap door behind the bar you can go through," she whispered, pointing towards the bar. "Be careful, dear." Quickly she made her way to the guards who were looking around. "Hello! Welcome to the Rat Trap! What brings ye fine gents to our humble tavern?"
"We're looking for this rat," one of the large soldiers said gruffly, pulling out a large sketch of Cimarron. "She was caught stealing some food from bakeries and we thought we saw her head towards here. She has golden fur and wears a black cloak. Have you seen her?"
Cimarron carefully hoisted her violin case on her back, got down on her hands and knees, and slowly crawled towards the bar.
"Tha' girl? No, she ain't been seen 'round here," Delara lied smoothly, shrugging her shoulders as she wiped her glass. "Even if I did, I doubt she'd ever come here."
"We'll see about that," the tall soldier said.
Cimarron crawled quickly behind the bar, hoisting the trap door open. She glanced up at Thomas, the bar tender, and pressed her finger to her lips. Thomas, who also was a friend of Cimarron's, nodded and continued to wipe down the counter as if nothing was happening.
"Well, you gents can look all you like, but as I said before, there ain't no black cloaked rat who came 'round here," Cimarron heard Delara's voice say casually. "However there's plenty o' beer to go round. Can I tempt you gents with some?"
"No, thank you madam," the tall gruff one replied. "We are turning this place upside down until we are sure that thieving rat is not here."
Not wanting to waste any more time, Cimarron slipped through the trap door and closed it shut behind her, enveloping her in total darkness. Luckily, she had a few spare candles and a tiny matchbox she kept with her should she need it. Fumbling through the pockets, her fingers felt the candle and the matchbox, and she lit the flame. From the dull glow of the candle's soft light, she could see that she was in a long pipe of some kind, perhaps connecting to the sewers. The flickering light cast eerie shadows on the black walls, creating a creepy feeling of never ending. Taking a deep breath and clutching her cloak tighter around her, she began to walk down the tunnel, praying no one will jump out from the dark shadows.
Author's note: Great Mouse Detective and Ratigan (soon to come) belongs to Disney and Eve Titus
My characters, Delara, Thomas, and Cimarron belong to me.
