In the middle of writing a Mandie Fanfiction (which is now finished) I recalled this short story that I wrote for school. It's from the perspective of Melchisedek, the mouse that Sara Crewe befriended in A Little Princess.
Melchisedek sat back on his haunches, his whiskers quivering with fear. A rat, nearly twice the little mouse's size, prowled around the corner and halted. He looked the little mouse up and down and then chuckled ominously.
"What, one little mousie, in this whole big house?" his eyes gleamed. "It's half the day I've been prowling in here—without seeing as much as a fly— then a little morsel of mouse appear out a' nowhere."
Dekky, as he was often called, sat up a little straighter, and his eyes flashed in anger. "Indeed not!" he exclaimed hotly. "My family has swarmed these walls for the past 20 years!" (He might have been exaggerating a little, but his dear mother was not near to scold him.)
"Ha!" the rat growled. "Well, you better pack your bags, mousie, 'cause it's about time for some new residents."
A cold hand of fear gripped Dekky's heart, but he tried to keep his voice steady. "Wha-what do you mean?"
"You'll find out soon enough." The intruder replied, and turning, he scurried down the hall.
Dekky stood still in surprise and fear. Did the rat mean that the dreaded ratscallion was coming? To his home? The ratscals! Why, he and his family had inhabited the walls and attic of Miss Minchin's boarding school for years. If only his dear human-friend Sara was still living in the attic! She could make sure that the rats were kept away. But she had been gone for over a year—a very long time to Dekky. Who could he get to help him?
Dekky bounced up as he thought of an answer. Across the floor, down the stairs and into Miss Minchin's office he scurried. The covered bird cage still sat upon the desk, and the mouse whisked under the cover and seized a long green plume.
"Ouch!" the parrot yelled, jerking her head from under a wing. "What has gotten into you, Melchisedek?"
Dekky hopped nervously from one paw to the other and squeaked: "The ratscallion is coming! the ratscallion is coming! I saw one in the attic, and he said—"
"Hold on! Slow down!" Screech commanded, settling the jerked tail feather. "Yes, I know the rat was here, I heard him in the office this morning. But what do you expect me to do about it? I can't get out of this cage, or I would have grabbed that rat and dumped him in the trash can for the maids to find."
Dekky calmed a little. "But can't you tell me what to do?"
"You must fight them, Dekky." The parrot said. "Get Laban to help you."
"The CAT!" Dekky screeched. "Absolutely not! He'd gobble me up at the first opportunity, not the rats!"
"Melchisedek!" Screech exclaimed. "He would not! Laban is a very polite kitty. He was in here chasing a fly yesterday, and I was much impressed by his manners. You simply must go talk to him. Cats are much more experienced at fighting the ratscallion than parrots or mice."
"Did I hear my name mentioned?" a voice behind Dekky purred.
The mouse whirled and came whiskers to whiskers with Laban.
Dekky yelped and jumped into the half-opened drawer.
Screech laughed softly. "Good afternoon Laban, how is hunting?"
"Oh, the usual: Five flies, three crickets and a scrap of bacon Miss Amelia dropped. In fact, I'm just about ready for a nap." Laban paused to yawn, then looked curiously at the drawer. "You can come out mouse, I'm not prepared to chew on anything else for a couple hours or more."
Dekky didn't move.
"Come now, Melchisedek, what would your sons think if they saw their courageous father hiding from a cat?" Screech said artfully. She knew how to deal with timid mice.
A whisker appeared, and then a pink nose, followed by two bright eyes.
"So, back to business," Laban began. "I overheard my name being mentioned a moment ago. What was it that you advised the mouse to talk to me about, Miss Screech?"
"Dekky will tell you. Come closer, Dekky." Screech said gently.
"The-the ratscallion." Dekky managed to squeak.
Laban's ears perked up and his great green eyes gleamed. "When will they arrive? How many? Where do they plan to enter? My wife and son will help, too."
Dekky shook his head, a little surprised at Laban's rapidity in taking over. "I don't know when, where or how many. I only met one of them in the attic, and he said that I had better leave because 'new residents were coming in'."
Laban nodded slowly, his kitty brain whirling in thought. "We'll need a spy. Wait here, please." He stood and padded away.
In a few moments he had jumped down into the cellar and prowled amongst the bags of goods. A movement in one corner caught his eye.
"Ratasha Ratmore! Are you chewing through bags again?"
Ratasha jerked to a halt and looked at Laban. "Aw, boss, can't I just have a snack?"
Laban reached out a paw and gently knocked her over. "Absolutely not. You could get plenty of crumbs if you'd only try. You have no call to be chewing into flour bags. Don't you know that I risk my position in this house every day by not banishing you—or worse?"
Ratasha hung her head. "I'm sorry, boss."
"Good." Laban stated. "You should be. Now, I have a job for you."
The rat grinned. "Sure, boss, whatcha want me to do?"
"We believe the ratscallion to be planning to invade. We need to know when, how many will be involved, and if possible, where they will enter."
"Consider it done." The excited rat exclaimed. "I'll go visit my cousin right away. I'm ashamed to say that he is one of the leaders of the ratscallion, but-you know- there's always that black sheep in the family." She scurried away.
Late that night, the cats and mice met in Miss Minchin's office and gathered around Screech's cage. She called the meeting to order.
"What have you to report?" she inquired at once.
"Rathasha Ratmore should return before long," Laban said. "She promised to find out everything she could about the expected invasion. And my wife, Tabitha, is quite willing to help up fight. Thomas is currently patrolling the first floor."
"Good," Screech said. "What about you, Dekky?"
"My sons will help." He said, and the three nearly-grown mice nodded.
They continued to plan, and only an hour later Ratasha burst into the meeting breathing heavily. "They're coming! I ran all the way here. My cousin asked if they might enter through my hole and I was forced to agree."
Mrs. Dekky, who had come along, turned white under her whiskers and toppled over in a faint.
"Please take care of her, Screech." Dekky called as he grasped Laban's fur and climbed onto the cat's back.
"Of course," Screech said matter-of-factly.
Laban and Tabby carried the four mice down to the cellar, where Tom soon joined them.
They gathered around Ratasha's hole, which was located under a shelf of canned goods.
"Purrrfect!" Tabby exclaimed when she saw the shelf. "We can sit up there where the rats won't see us until it's too late."
The little army spread out along the shelf, the three cats staring down over the edge, awaiting the slightest movement.
The wait seemed like an eternity to Dekky, as he crouched in Laban's shadow, but in reality it was only a few minutes. A slight scratching noise met their ears and a shadowy figure crouched in the hole. Then the rats filed into the cellar, slowly, quietly—then with a cry of alarm, as, simultaneously Tabby, Laban and Tom leaped down amongst them.
"We must do something!" Dekky cried as the fight began. He glanced around and spied the neat row of canned goods. "Come on, help me!" He and his sons scurried to one of the jars, jumped against it over and over again until it fell over, and rolled it over the edge.
Surprisingly, the jar did not break, but instead rolled towards the wall. It came to rest across Ratasha's hole, effectually blocking the ratscallion's escape route. Inspired by their success, the mice rolled another jar over the edge. It hit the floor with a crash and burst, showering beef stew all over the rats, whom the cats had surrounded.
The door at the top of the stairs opened and a pair of feet appeared. "What's going on down here?"
Dekky and his family scurried out of sight.
The maid descended the stairs, spotted the rats and let out a scream of terror. Wielding the broom, she whacked three terrified rats at once, knocking them unconscious. Before long the entire troop of rats lay on the floor. The maid dropped her broom and scooped Tabby into her arms.
"Good girl," the maid said, making her way back up the steps to the kitchen, where she found a piece of bacon for Tabby.
Meanwhile, Tom and Laban had gently picked up the rats, one by one, and placed them in an empty bucket until they should recover consciousness.
"What will we do with them?" Tom asked his father.
"We'll feed them, make them promise never to invade this house again, and send them home." Laban said. "You did well fighting, my son."
Dekky and his sons had since climbed off the shelf and joined the cats.
"Thank you both for helping, Laban and Tom." Dekky said gratefully. "We couldn't have done it without you."
"You did well, too, Melchisedek." Laban said quietly. "I think we have all learned that what you cannot do alone, can be accomplished by a team.
So what happened to the brave mice, anyway?
The captured members of the ratscallion, after recovering from their concussions, gladly promised never to come near Miss Minchin's Boarding School again. True to his word, Laban released them.
Tom Cat grew into a valiant mouser, or rather ratter, for after working with Dekky's family, he could not bring himself to hunt mice.
Laban and Tabby raised two more litters of kittens, who were known as the best hunters in London.
Dekky's three sons eventually found mouse wives and settled down in the walls of the school, near their parents' hole.
Dekky and his wife (who had recovered from her faint after a dousing from Screech's water dish) lived out their days doing what they loved: scrounging for crumbs, and telling stories of the day that Teamwork Beat the Ratscallion.
The End