Chapter Fourteen

Here's To The Past

I wasn't exactly sure what to expect, for I realized quickly that the time jumps, when they did happen, were short lived, only lasting at most thirty minutes before I was thrown back into reality. Testing this theory took a lot of time, for I couldn't just will the jumps to happen, like fate, they had a mind of its own.

Even though I was dead, it was reassuring to know that people could see me, especially when it came to Emile. I couldn't bring myself to tell him what happened, for he had assumed, like everyone else that I was alive and well. The only thing that I was worried about is if someone touched me, for surely they would go right through me.

Emile though didn't seem to mind when he found out, which to be honest, disturbed me, it was almost as if he were expecting it to happen. We were standing out in the alleyway outside the restaurant, Emile, as usual was sitting on the garbage can, with a large cheese wrapper in his hand. "So that's it Emile" I concluded, Emile only nodded, as if he understood everything that I just said, "So let me get this straight, you're dead?" he asked. I nodded, "Yes Emile, I'm dead." Emile shrugged, "Okay. And you can see the ghosts of Dad and this Gusteau guy right?" I nodded again. Why was Emile being so accepting of this situation? "And the only way you can come back to life is if you fix it by going back in time through these random time jumps that you have no control over." I nodded again; this was getting annoying, "Okay" Emile continued, "Well, all I can say is good luck."

I stared at him for several seconds, completely stupefied; Emile definitely isn't the brightest light bulb, sharpest tool in the shed, whatever cliché euphemism for stupidity that you want to use, is Emile in a nutshell, see there you go another euphemism. I hate these things, personally if you have to say something just say it, don't use euphemisms, they're annoying and waste other people's time. Now I'm rambling. Great, see what you people make me do?

"Emile" I began, "what part of I'm dead do you not understand? Je suis mort, comme de ne jamais revenir, comment diable pouvez-vous accepter cela?" Emile looked at me as if I were a crazy person. I rolled my eyes; Emile never did bother to learn French, "I said, 'I am dead, as in never coming back. How the hell can you be so accepting of this?' Jesus Christ Emile! Learn French already. We're in Paris; it's kind of a law here." Emile laughed, "No it isn't Remy. Plenty of people live here who don't know a lick of French." I slapped my face with my paw, there have never been more times when I wanted to strangle the life out of Emile, "Do you have some kind of brain damage that I didn't know about? Or a learning disability? Cause you're about the stupidest person I've ever met and that's really saying something, cause have you seen Linguini? It's a miracle that he even remembers how to breathe!"

Emile was completely oblivious to my insults, to be fair I was once again, being a total asshole, and once again, I didn't care. I am not a people's rat; I am a rat's rat. Personally, I wouldn't blame you if you stopped reading right now. For only a crazy person, a devoted fan or a person who has nothing better to do than read this account of a rat, would ever continue reading.

If you made it this far, though I can only assume that you belong to one of those three categories, if you are part of the last one I feel sorry for you. Get off the computer, go outside and smell the roses every once in a while. Now back to the story.

The jump came without warning. Emile and the alleyway disappeared. I was standing in a field, surrounded by trees. It was fall; the leaves were golden brown, red and yellow. In the middle of the field was the entrance to a large burrow, walking inside I recognized that it was indeed the rat colony, the very first one to be exact.

The main room was huge; big enough to fit 150 bodies, along the walls were numerous hallways leading to various bedrooms, bathrooms and the like. Tables were scattered everywhere, I could only assume that it was dinner time, for the tables were arranged in such a way that the head table stood out more than usual. The room was full of rats, many of them were my uncles and aunts, but I never really did care for them much, mostly because they thought I was shit to begin with and would never amount to anything. I guess in a way they were right.

At the head table, Django sat in the center; next to him was Emile, who was smaller than usual, about 3 or 4 years of age. To Django's right sat a female rat, my best guess was that this was my mother, this was reassured by the fact that her stomach was extended, obviously in the late stages of pregnancy. Django turned to Mom, "How we doing?" he asked as he placed his ear on her stomach, Mom laughed, it was soft and sweet, probably one of the reasons why Django fell in love with her to begin with. "We're doing great" Mom replied, "should only be a few days more now." Django smiled warmly, it was the first time that I ever seen him really smile. He turned towards Emile, "Son, you're going to have a brother. How does that sound?" Emile only looked at Mom curiously and then back at Django; his eyes were shining with anticipation.

Dad appeared next to me, with Gusteau right behind him. "This is three days before you were supposed to be born Remy" Dad said, "Okay" I replied, "what happened to letting me skip the tedious stuff Dad?" Dad shook his head, "You can't skip everything Remy. Besides you always wanted to see your mother." I turned to Gusteau, "Alright. What do I have to fix?" Gusteau only gestured back to the head table; I turned around and continued watching.

Emile stood up and walked towards Mom, placing his ear on her stomach, listening for me. "How's it going?" he asked casually, "Oh that's good...hey listen, in a few days you're goanna come out and we're going to be best friends alright? We'll play all sorts of games; I'll teach you how to find the good stuff. But don't worry about that, you'll what it means when you get out, but I'll teach you anyway." Mom then began to breathe heavily, Emile could hear me kicking harder.

Dad looked at me, "Welcome to the world son." I moved in for a closer look, as I walked over, Mom began screaming, the contractions had begun, all it took was one push and I was out of the womb and into main room. Let me say right now that I was one ugly kid, for one thing I looked like the Alien from Alien- if you put me next to that thing we would be identical. My head was twice as big as the rest of my body; otherwise, I was a mushy pink blob of flabby skin. Dad shot me a look, "Hold out your hand and close your fist." I did so and everything froze.

"What's going on?" I asked, turning to Dad for answers. "When you're in the past, you can control time Remy. It'll allow you to change things." I looked around, everything seemed normal. "What's wrong?" I continued, "Look at you" Dad pointed to the small pink blob, "does that look normal to you?" I had to admit, when I said I was ugly before, I was low balling it, I was the rat version of Quasimodo. Gusteau rolled his eyes, "Are you serious? You're asking him to change his body? He's a baby for god's sake; it's not going to be pretty." Dad ignored Gusteau, "Remy, you were born this way. Physically deformed and barely alive, we had to take you to the best rat surgeons in the world. It cost us most of our savings but it was worth it, at least we thought so at the time." I blinked, I couldn't believe on what he was saying, "Are you saying that you changed your mind about saving my life?" Dad nodded reluctantly, "Yes Remy" he replied, "two years had passed. Your mother was sick, very sick, but we couldn't afford the medicine because you're medical bills were so high. You could barely walk; we had to take you to physical therapy sessions every day for a year Remy. But even at two years old, you were still a pink blob, most rats at that age have a full coat of grey, but you didn't reach that stage until you were almost four." I was confused, as was Gusteau, so I began pressing, "What are you getting at Dad?"

Dad sighed, it was difficult for him to say what he was about to say, but he said it anyway. "If we had that money, if we didn't spend it on you, then we could've saved your mother. That's why you have to change yourself...getting rid of the physical deformity, the growth problems, will save her." I went into deep thought, thinking of the consequences, the pros and cons, for I had learned enough about the space-time continuum that messing with it is very, very tricky. "What happens if I do it?" I asked, Dad shrugged, "I don't know" he answered, "We can't see the results Remy. Only advise you on what needs to be changed. That's how it works."

Seeing no other option, I reached down and touched my small pink flab of a body and began morphing it to the proper dimensions. Even so, I felt as if I hadn't done anything and so I thought that speaking what I wanted done would do the trick. "I remove your deformity" I exclaimed, and would you believe that it actually worked.

In an instant the jump happened again, this time I was standing in the roof of the old lady's house in the French countryside, you know the one. This was the second rat colony. I looked around and noticed that Dad and Gusteau had disappeared. In the corner of the room, once again at the head table, sat Django, Emile and my mother, this time I was in the picture. I apparently had just gotten my first coat; Emile was on his second and almost to his third and final coat. Django stared at me with keen interest, "Remy, what did I tell you? Sit up straight. Just because you're a rat doesn't mean that you have to act like one!" My mouth was agape; I never thought that I would ever hear those words from him of all people. To gather my thoughts I held out my palm and clenched my fist. I then began to pace around the room nervously.

"Okay, okay" I started, my breathing had slowed and I was started to panic, "this is perfectly normal Remy. It's just one of the results of the change. That's it, it has to be. No way would Dad actually care about-." The jump continued, forcing me to watch, apparently I could control so much. Mom patted my head and held me close for a quick embrace. "Listen to your father Remy" she whispered. For sake of convenience and to maintain my sanity, I will use real names. Remy nodded and turned towards Django, "Sorry Dad" he answered meekly. Django huffed, "Don't apologize to me. Apologize to your mother and brother." Remy smiled at Mom and Emile and continued eating as if nothing happened.

Making my way forward I noticed that Emile was sitting on the far end of the table, away from Django, Mom and Remy, with the saddest expression on his face. "Can I...come over there now?" Emile asked nervously, Django shot a glaring look Emile's way, "No" he answered sharply, "Just because you're the oldest doesn't mean that you get everything that you want. You're a spoiled brat Emile." Emile then began crying, but Django stopped this as well, "And stop crying! That's all you ever do, cry, cry, and cry. What are you five? Deal with it!" Emile sighed, "But all I wanted was a little food" he whispered, for all of the food was at the other end of the table and it was considered improper for a rat to simply reach over and grab his share.

Gusteau appeared next to me, "So this is what happened?" I asked, completely heartbroken for Emile. Gusteau nodded, "Your mother favored you over Emile and Django did whatever you mom said, so when she started doting over you, he ignored and ultimately forget Emile." I shook my head in disbelief, "Is there a way to reverse it?" I asked hopefully, Gusteau sighed, "No Remy. You can only jump forward after you change something to see the result. After that, it's permanent." I huffed, "So you're telling me that Emile grows up without a family? What kind of existence is that?" Gusteau said nothing. Dad appeared slowly, obviously hesitant, "It's the kind of existence that gives you Mom, Remy." I spit in his face and slapped him, causing Dad to stumble to the ground. "You knew didn't you? You lied to me when you said you didn't know the consequences didn't you! How could you do that to your own son? What did Emile ever do to you? Nothing!" Dad laughed as he stood up, "This isn't about Emile, Remy. It's about you." I rolled my eyes, "Really? Is it really about me Dad? Or did you just tell me to make that change so you can have Mom back? It's not about me, it's not about Emile. It's about you. Just like everything else huh? Whatever happened to me changing my life so that I could get back to life? What happened to that?"

To this Dad had no answer and if he did it wasn't a very good one. He only hung his head in silence.

Then the jump ended, I found myself back in the alleyway, only this time I was alone. I looked around; Emile was nowhere to be found, "Emile?" I called out, "Emile? Where are you?" I walked up and down the alleyway; having no luck there I searched the restaurant, the apartment, and then went down every street that Emile knew about in Paris. Emile was gone, sitting down on the steps of a hotel; I began to cry, for I had lost my brother, the only person I had left in this world. There was never another time in my life where the only thing that I wanted to do be with Emile, in all the years that I had known him, he never stopped believing in me, even when he thought I was mentally insane for aspiring to become a chef, Emile was always there. Now I felt that it was my turn to be there for him and I had failed him, it was the worst thing that I could've done.

I no longer cared about my personal life. I was young, there was plenty of time for me to find love, the only thing that mattered was Emile.