"Get back inside this instant!"
Elsa smiled as she listened to Mrs. Jaffin shout at her brood of children. It was evening and the neighborhood was lit with a warm orange glow. All around the small block little ones were scampering inside to swallow their suppers quickly in hopes of finishing fast enough to get back outside before dark. The smell of soup and freshly baked bread floated from the many apartments. Elsa herself currently had a vegetable soup simmering on the stove. At the moment she was multitasking, as was her specialty. She was listening for the rattle of the lid on the soup pot, should it decide to boil over while she was outside, hanging sheets in the narrow alleyway next to her home, and watching for the arrival of her husband.
She did not have to wait long, for up the walk he came. He was certainly hard to miss; a tall thin creature, he looked the type that should be wearing some form of suit, rather than the worn jacket, coat, and trousers which he donned. Ely worked in a shoe factory, gathering left over scraps of lace and leather from the upper human work area to take downstairs to the place where the mice would stitch the pieces together to sell in the shops. In truth Ely had been cut out for finer work, something he knew and held a bitter grudge over. Indeed, every time he was forced to look his floor manager in the eye and explain why he hadn't been able to bring back more, he couldn't help but think how easily he could rob this mouse of his job, or better yet of his crumb covered whiskers.
But he didn't think of that now. No, as he strode towards his home the only thing he saw was Elsa smiling at him as if he was some form of royalty. He marched up to her, easily lifted her from the ground, and swung her in a circle, the both of them laughing like children.
"Oh, put me down you fool," she chuckled.
"If you insist," he said with an exaggerated air of reluctance, and set her back on the ground. For a moment they stood that way, arms wrapped around each other, smiling.
Her eyes were tired from cleaning houses all day and then coming home to do her own chores. His coat was full of holes that would have to be sewn. Her black hair was falling out of her braid and he was in desperate need of a shave.
But of course, when love is involved, such imperfections rarely mattered and he leaned down and kissed her, not a bit concerned that any neighbors could possibly be watching.
However, they were soon interrupted by a loud squeaking. Looking down, Ely spied his young son toddling about in his mother's vegetable garden, casually pulling up both weeds and carrots and letting out squeals of delight as he flung them.
"You little scamp," Elsa laughed, stepping away from her husband and lifting the baby high above her head. "How many times has Mummy told you not to play with her vegetables, hm?"
The child mumbled a few unintelligible words and made random gestures in the direction of the garden.
"Oh, now Elsa, he was just having a bit of fun," Ely said, taking the boy from her. "Isn't that right, you little ruffian?" This was met with a short burst of giggles and much babbling. Elsa picked up her now empty laundry basket and carried it in through the side door of the house, followed closely by her husband.
A tiny table with two mismatched chairs sat in the center of the kitchen. The stove, with the soup still bubbling, was set close to the only window while the sink was further down the wall. Through the door was a tiny entry room where strangers came in; everyone else entered through the kitchen. Past that was a little sitting room with a pair of chairs and a threadbare carpet. The last room, in the back, was where the three of them slept: Elsa and Ely, and of course the baby rested in one of their dresser drawers.
Ely plopped down in one of the kitchen chairs and bounced the baby on his knee. "Aren't Martin and Molly coming for supper, dear?"
"Yes, I expect they'll be here soon. Goodness knows it's a bit of a walk from their neighborhood to ours, especially with three children in tow."
"Well, not all little ones can be as well behaving as my boy, now can they?" He asked this merrily, chucking the baby under his chin.
"No, I don't suppose," Elsa said, stirring the soup. "I almost forgot; how was your day?"
His day? He had been yelled at by the foreman, cursed at by the mouse workers, laughed at by his fellow rats, and a human, upon discovering him, had nearly broken his back with an oversized broom.
"Fairly regular, I'd say," he quipped.
Just then there was a hard pounding against the front door. His brow creased with concern, Ely rose, passed the baby to his wife, and went to open the door. Upon opening it, he saw a rat in ragged moth eaten clothes, leaning against the door frame for support. Ely easily recognized him by the scar that was etched next to one of his bright yellow eyes.
"Pavel? What on-?"
"They're coming."
Ely froze. "What?"
"You heard me! They are coming tonight!"
A million and one thoughts flew threw Ely's mind. "What about Mar-
"Martin and his bunch are waiting; now hurry! We don't have much time! They're coming!"
The repetition of this phrase took its toll. Ely thrust his head into the kitchen and barked, "Forget the soup! Go pack! Now!"
"What-
"NOW!"
Having never been shouted at by him before, Elsa immediately obeyed. She rushed to the bedroom, baby in tow, and began throwing things into a suitcase. Meanwhile Ely and the one he called Pavel worked furiously to upturn furniture and destroy the kitchen utensils in an attempt to make the place look as if it'd been abandoned years ago. Satisfied, Ely pulled on his coat and rapidly interrogated his companion.
"How do you know?"
"Heard it from a friend; 'parently someone snitched. Someone from the inside."
"Who? The Baileys?"
"Hard to say. There's so many living here right now. But they know about this place and Martin's block and a few others. You know the law-
"No living in large groups, I know," Ely snapped, and silently cursed whoever had betrayed their secret. "Elsa, hurry up back there!"
She finally emerged her coat on and the suitcase full of hastily gathered essentials. The baby was propped on her hip and looking around, thoroughly confused as to what was going on. Pavel snatched the suitcase and led Elsa out of the house while Ely rummaged through an old trunk that sat in the corner.
"Where is it, where is it- Aha!" He pulled out a small case, opened it and yanked out a loaded revolver. One could never be too careful. He then flew out the door and quickly caught up to the others. They had to leave fast. They snuck silently through the block, not wanting to attract attention. Not everyone could leave with them. Pavel, upon hearing the news, had known that only a few would be able to escape in time and had gone after his friends first.
Stepping hastily through the back alleys they made the way to their meeting place. A mid sized rat, Martin, as well as a lady dressed in a thick coat, was standing there trying to calm down three frightened young ones. They looked up and instantly embraced the newcomers. The lady, Molly, squeezed Elsa tight in an attempt to alleviate her own fears and Martin and Ely thumped each other on the back.
When the greetings were over, Martin asked, "Alright Pavel, where is this man of yours?"
"Shouldn't take but a moment to reach him. We just have to-
Shots were heard just then and everyone hit their knees in fear. They were coming from the distance; from the neighborhood. The police had already arrived. Pavel was the first to stand again and shouted, "Run, damn it, run! RUN!"
The others stood and without argument raced after their friend. Past rubbish bins and overturned crates they ran, the sound of shots and screaming ringing in their ears. The children, unable to run very fast, had to be scooped up, Martin and Molly each carrying one while Ely grabbed the third. Pavel juggled the luggage while Elsa held tight to her own son who by now was letting out hoarse, frightened cries.
"Shut him up, will ya," Ely snapped at her.
"He's frightened!"
"Ain't no time for that!"
"We'll be spotted," Molly shrieked.
"Shut it all of you," Pavel barked over his shoulder. "This way!"
The group darted around a corner, upsetting a group of homeless mice who had been about to a supper of rotting fruit, and kept going with Pavel expertly leading the way. He'd grown up in these alleys and knew the precise route they needed. More shots were heard, but these were much closer. That was when he realized; the police weren't in the neighborhood anymore. They were chasing after runaways.
"RUN!"
Past the factories, shops, and stands, around corners, up alleys and side streets, under street lamps they ran, no one daring to look back. Normally Pavel would have taken a more direct way but this was the best method of losing their pursuers. Finally they reached an open street where a human carriage was waiting. The horses were stamping their hooves, impatiently waiting to leave as the humans loaded their things.
After pausing a moment to make sure the humans weren't paying any attention, the rats darted across and underneath the carriage, where another rat was waiting. He was taller than the others and much more muscular, his arms and legs like solid tree trunks. "You're late," he muttered in a slow, dumb voice.
"We were being chased, alright? Now just help us load this stuff," Pavel snapped. The rat shrugged, took the suitcases, and in one fluid motion heaved them into the small compartment on the under side of the carriage that would serve as their transport. Pavel turned to the group. "Alright now, from here we're goin' to the docks. We're gonna take a ship to the main land. We can figure something out from there; everyone okay with that?" No one really had a choice, and at the sound of more shots coming from the distance each of the adults gave a hasty nod.
Martin and Ely hastily loaded their families into the carriage while Pavel slapped a few coins into the large rat's hand. He hopped up into the little compartment and soon they were on their way.
Inside it was cramped and hot with a terrible smell that indicated this place had been used often. As the carriage bumped and bounced through the cobblestone streets, everyone's discomfort was increased by the baby's constant squalling. "You're gonna have to shut him up, Ely," Pavel said. "Or else they won't let him on the ship."
"I know," Ely grunted. "Can't you quiet him," he hissed to his wife.
Elsa, thoroughly exhausted at this point, did her best to calm the baby by bouncing him up and down. If anything the baby's cries only seemed to worsen. One of the other children began to whine as well, but was quickly silenced by a smack from Martin.
Soon they reached the docks. A small supply ship was heading towards the main land and was currently being loaded. The carriage stopped close by and both humans and rats piled out, luggage in tow. The rats jogged as fast as they could manage over to rope which would serve as their gangplank. A scruffy, oversized mouse stood nearby to oversee their crossing. Martin's group began their ascension without trouble, but the mouse roughly reached forward and grabbed Elsa as she walked by.
"Hey," Ely barked. "What do you-
"No babes," the mouse said.
"What," Elsa asked.
"No babes on board the ship. Make too much noise; specially this one." The baby had ceased his cries but was now whimpering loudly.
"You two can come," the mouse continued. "But that one's gotta stay."
The two parents stood aghast at what they were being told. After their entire ordeal they were being told to leave their baby. "No," Elsa said firmly. "Never."
Pavel, having been listening, said, "Come now El-
"No! I won't leave him! Never! Tell him Ely!"
Everyone looked to the tall rat. He was looking back and forth between Elsa, the ship, and the baby. He seemed to be thinking.
"Ely," Elsa said, her voice now trembling. "Tell them… Say you won't- That we would never…"
Ely looked at the ship one last time before turning back to his wife. He looked her in the eyes steadily. Then he reached forward and yanked the child from her arms.
"NO!" Elsa shrieked and tried to grab the baby back, but Pavel had her restrained. "There's an orphanage just down that way," he said, "but hurry." Ely nodded and ran once more into the night, Elsa's howls ringing in his ears.
"Let me go! Anything but him! I'll give you anything but him!"
Pavel held on to her tightly. "Hush, there, Els. It's what's best." At these words, she sank to her knees, sobbing.
Ely had no trouble finding the orphanage. It was the most run down building in the area, a faded sign outside claiming room for anyone. He wound around the back of the building and found steps that led to the rodent entrance of the building. Carefully he looked around before setting his son down on the step.
The child had long stopped whining altogether and now looked up at his father in interest. Was this a new game? Why had Mummy been shouting? And why was Daddy looking at him like that?
Ely wiped away a single tear as he stared at his boy. He was a bit scrawny for his age and the clothes he wore dwarfed him further. He had a scrap of oily black hair, yellow eyes, and had already grown two rows of viciously sharp teeth. People had always claimed the boy looked like his father. But the truth was that in a few years his son would no doubt be mixed in with the rest of society's rats, the downtrodden but domesticated group as well as the terrifying sewer dwellers. Such was the way things went for orphans; at least the ones that survived childhood.
"To think you'll grow up not knowing who you belonged to. Who you are…" Ely couldn't let that happen. He thought quickly and reached into his pocket where he kept an ink pen and a scrap of paper.
"Here," he said, scribbling on the paper and tearing it off. He pressed it into the child's tiny fist. "Hang on to this, alright?"
The child blinked then smiled up at his father, not yet at the stage where he could fully understand. Ely sniffed and squeezed the boy one last time, capturing the memory of those tiny hands pressing against his face.
And then he left. Thirty minutes later the ship left port. Four hours after that the orphanage maid would step outside and shriek at the sight of a small rat on her porch steps. It would be years before the boy would read what the paper said.
'I am Padraic James Ratigan.'
