7:00 PM. On the dot.
Time to clock out.
Wheeling his bucket and mop made from a thimble, toy car wheels, and a paintbrush into the janitors closet, Roddy punched his time card and made his way out of the labyrinth of hallways that comprised the elementary school and outside to the courtyard. Roddy locked the door behind him with the set of keys the principle had given him and threw on his coat over top his uniform at the touch of cold air that whistled forlornly through the tunnels. What was it about schools without children that became invariably creepy?
"Liam? You here yet?" He called to the darkness only faintly lit by a couple of streetlights. "Liam?"
When no answer was forthcoming, Roddy plopped his tail end on a bench to wait. Figures the kid would be late as if this wasn't his own idea. He'd give him no more than ten minutes to get here or he was leaving. He still needed to grab some food before his final shift of the day at the pub. His body attempted to shiver against the cold but it seemed like it was much too exhausted from the long labors of the day to bother. He wondered how much longer he could stand pulling these kinds of hours? Already he was craving for another expedition with just him and Rita aboard the Jammy Dodger II, pulling up valuable pieces of relics amongst the garbage, the comfortable silence as they both worked the pipes side by side; and his personal favorite, falling asleep in each other's arms at night while the water gently slaps against the hull.
The temptation to just quit all his jobs right then and there, go home, grab Rita from her bed, and sail away was so high he was seconds away from leaping up when he heard something rustle behind him.
Have some self-control, Roderick! Roddy ordered himself as he shook those memories from his mind. There was a reason why he insisted on them staying home for a bit so he could work. Eyes on the prize!
As Roddy turned about on the bench, he was fully expecting to see that greasy haired teenage punk emerge from the darkness, but instead he saw. . . nothing. There was the slimy layer of moss on the ground and what constituted as bushes made from rubber and plastic, but no mouse, greasy teenager or otherwise.
Had he imagined it?
Roddy glanced at his watch. Seven minutes have past. Should he even bother with the remaining three?
"Milicent." Came a whisper next to his ear.
The brunette mouse jumped up with the manliest of squeals, spinning around to find a bush staring at him with the same beady eyes as the ones that trash can had.
He slumped with relief that took no time to morph into anger. "Will you stop with these silly costumes? You're liable to give someone a heart attack. Mainly me!"
"There's a security guard doing the rounds. I was being incognito, bro! Do you know how suspicious it would be if they saw a teenager just hanging around an elementary school?" Liam explained with an indignant sniff.
"Or, you could've just told anyone who asks that you're just waiting for me to finish my shift." The older mouse pointed out.
"Yeah, but that's boring and I hate talking to people."
"Well, too bad, because I'm not following a bush around, so get outta there!"
"I can't!" Liam's voice came out meek from between the plastic leaves.
"Why not?" Roddy demanded, agitated. He glanced at his watch again. His free time was running out a lot quicker than he hoped.
"Cause I'm not wearing anything underneath. . ."
Roddy blinked. "Are you serious? Why wouldn't you wear something underneath, you prat?"
"Well, I did but then I got hot waiting for you, so I just went back to my boat and stripped."
Roddy sighed heavily, pinching the tension that was building up between his eyes and reconsidering if this really was such a good idea to begin with. "Wait here, I'll be right back."
A few minutes later the two were aboard the Jon boat. That blasted bush costume discarded in the rubbish, replaced with a spare janitors uniform. It was rather big, draped across his lanky frame but it was better than a bunch of sewn together leaves and twigs.
"A'ight, in six fathoms we're going to go towards starboard." Liam instructed from where he sat at the bow, taking everything in.
"First off, fathoms is a unit of length to measure the depth of water." Roddy informed, slowing them down. "Second off, do you mean 'port', cause if I go towards starboard then we're going to end up in somebodies living room."
Liam's mouth twisted unhappily at having to be corrected. Twice.
"How do you not get confused between those two all the time?"
Roddy smirked, "When you spend as much time with your sister breathing down your neck as I do, you figure it out pretty fast."
Liam shuddered. "No thanks. Can barely stand her when she is home."
"Another way to remember is that 'port' has the same letters as 'left' if that helps any."
"Huh, cool." Liam muttered but didn't say anything more until he had to give a direction to which he just stuck to simple 'right' and 'left' which suited Roddy just fine. They only spoke again when they pulled up on the docks beside a five-story concrete structure. A big picture window on the ground level had the name Dinky and Dainty painted on it while displaying various antique items. On the door, a blue and red neon sign announced its opening. It wasn't exactly the name of a shop he pictured some high-quality, one-of-a-kind goods to be sold at, but what did he have to lose? Other than a couple hours of his time, of course.
"And we've reached our destination!" Liam announced as he hopped out of the Jon and began to walk across the pier towards the shop. Roddy followed after tying the boat to the docks cleat.
"This doesn't look creepy or suspicious at all." Roddy remarked as he regarded the very run-down state of the building. Despite the oddity of the name, it held a distinct illegal atmosphere around it and he was beginning to question his decision on stepping into the shop.
"Don't go cowarding on me now." Liam replied with an amused smirk.
"Cowarding?" Roddy scoffed. "I have you know I've faced more daring odds than this."
"Yeah, but have you faced those odds without Rita by your side?"
Roddy felt his back stiffen as the implication sank in. He narrowed his eyes at the youthful mouse. "And what is that supposed to mean?"
Liam shrugged casually, spitting out the gum he was chewing on onto the sidewalk. "Just that you seem to wanna slip on your big-boy panties only when your girlfriend is around."
Roddy wrinkled his nose in disgust at this unruly behavior. "For your information, the St James clan blood flows through my veins. So, you know what that means?"
"Not a clue."
"It means I don't need Rita. I don't need anybody to save me from anything. Just my guts and my wits."
"Sure pal. Whatever gets you through the night." Liam stated dryly as he went ahead to open the front door.
Roddy gritted his teeth, feeling strangely annoyed by the young pups dismissiveness. Seriously, wasn't it he who single-handedly defeated The Frog from his dastardly plan to wipe out all of Ratopia and repopulate with his disgusting hell spawn? Wasn't it he who saved Rita when she was tied up and dangling from a pipe, about to washed away by a flood of excrement? And why was he getting so worked up over a seventeen-year-olds opinion of his character anyway?
Shaking his head, Roddy entered the dilapidated building, a cluster of bells tied to the knob jangling loudly as the door shut behind them.
"Georgie! Y'hear old mate?" Liam shouted as he wandered aimlessly between the cluttered shelves. "It's me! Leonard!"
"Leonard?" Roddy frowned.
"You think I just give my real name to people?" Liam whispered beside him, shaking his head as if he were the stupid one for assuming that. "In this business, discretion and anonymity is more valuable than gold."
Roddy wanted to ask what type of 'business' he was talking about, but lost the words when a rather large, pudgy, graying rat dressed in a rumpled and stained pinstripe suit burst through a back entrance to greet them. (He would much later realize the irony behind the shops name and the owner.) His balding, wrinkled face was drawn downward into a feisty frown that set Roddy on immediate edge, but as soon as those beady, black eyes spotted them, everything seemed to fall upside down. That saggy skin lifted upwards, that snarl morphing into an almost pleasant smile, and those sharp eyes seeming to light up with an inner glow Roddy would've never guessed he possessed two seconds ago.
"Ah, Leonard! Good to see you again, lad! How's the wife and kids?"
Liam gave a mellow and slightly sleepy grin as the two shook hands and patted backs as if they've known each other for years. (Which was impossible, the kid still looked like a teenager for God's sake!) "Good, very good. The oldest one is about to finish his first semester in high school."
"And the little one?"
"Finally figured out how to go potty on her own."
Roddy didn't know what to say or think as the two caught up on a life nobody had any clue about. As far as he knew, (which, frankly, wasn't much.) Liam was just a seventeen-year-old boy who was still in high school and probably would remain there for the next five years thanks to his flunking grades. He had one girlfriend who unfortunately was just as secretive and dodgy as her boyfriend was, and he recently joined a band that mostly consisted of hanging around, tagging buildings and playing video games instead of practicing. Wife and kids? Maybe in his dreams.
"And who's this you brought me? A Janitor? You come to clean up me shop?" The big rat, supposedly named 'Georgie' but who on Earth knows now, laughed heartily, making his jowls jiggle like jelly. It was both hypnotizing and horrifying.
Clearing his throat and properly composing himself, Roddy slapped on what he hoped was a polite smile as he said, "The name is Roddy St. James of Kensi—" he was about to say Kensington, but he technically didn't live there anymore, did he? "Well, of—"
Before Roddy could say 'here' or 'Ratopia' or something else, Liam quickly slipped in with a, "Of Kentucky."
Georgie blinked in surprise. "America, Kentucky?"
"The one and only."
Roddy's jaw dropped, his eyes staring holes into the side of the teenager's head. Kentucky? Of all places in the world, this little weasel chose Kentucky? He didn't even have an American accident for crying out loud!
"Ah, so what brings a mouse such as yourself all the way here?" Georgie asked, an amused smile crinkling his eyes.
Roddy opened his mouth to try to salvage this situation when the pesky rodent he might one day call a brother-in-law, inserted, "Business expansion."
Georgie's eyes lit up with interest. "Mm, business, what type of business?"
"Have you seen that chicken company on the telly? Well, my friend here was looking for a suitable location to set up one of those shops, so I offered to show him around the area."
"So, you own a food corporation, hm? That's quite something." Georgie's eyes trailed up and down the length of Roddy's smaller frame. "So, why the janitors uniform?"
"Oh this?" Liam laughed as he patted Roddy's chest. "A disguise See, he doesn't want news about the new expansion to get around to the media until a final decision has been made."
"I suppose so." Georgie shrugged. "Leonard here told me that you are also looking for a ring, is that right?"
Liam stared at Roddy with a way too bright smile, his eyes glimmering with mischievousness. He was having way too much fun with this and now he was encouraging him to take the lead. Unsure what else to do but play along, Roddy said in the best impression of that hillbilly accent he heard on the telly, "Y-yes. Somethin' unusual if ya got em."
"Do I now?" The gruff rat laughed jovially before stooping behind the register desk, things clinking and clattering as they were moved. Reemerging, Georgie slammed down a black velveteen box on the counter.
"May I present to you the premium, most vintage pieces you will ever find on this side of London, mate. Go on, have a look see."
Feeling slightly apprehensive, Roddy slowly made his way up to the desk. The boxes lid was clear, displaying hundreds of glittering jewelry piled together like a pirates treasure chest.
"Uhm, may I?"
"Sure, knock your socks off. Just keep in mind that you try to make a run with any of these, I got my Winifred here that'll take you down before you can reach the door." He pointed a stubby thumb to a net launcher mounted proudly on the wall above his head. The plaque beneath read, Not a prop. Not for sale. Do not touch.
Roddy placed a hand over his heart and raised his other in the air. "I assure ya, sir. I have zero intention of stealin'."
The shop owner grinned a toothy gold and silver grin as he raised one massive paw to open the case.
"Woah, cool!" Liam was already leaning over to look inside, picking out the largest one of them all. As the teenager presented it to him, Roddy rolled his eyes and elbowed him to the side so he could rifle through the collection himself. It was so terribly obnoxious, just like the mouse it was held by. No, he wanted something beautiful yet humble. Charmingly simple. Roddy hummed, finally deciding on a pretty, oval-shaped, pinkish ruby ring, encircled with a line of creamy pearls on a gold band. He held it up to the dim, stained glass lampshade, squinting one eye and almost immediately finding what he was looking for. Inclusions. What a surprise, it was a fake!
Deciding to give Georgie the benefit of the doubt, (not because he was absolutely terrified to say something or anything.) Roddy tried several other rings, holding them up to the light to examine them. Unfortunately, they were all the same. Stupid, worthless, glass replicas.
Sighing in disappointment, Roddy tossed the last ring back in the box.
"Nothing interesting?" The larger rodent remarked, his smile having slowly sunken into a grimace over time.
"Fraid not."
"And what, pray tell, were you hoping to find?" Georgie snapped the box closed a half second after Roddy's fingers were clear, making him jump. Those paws, the size of his face, folded together on the counter, his chest leaning across the counter so he could invade Roddy's personal space.
He swallowed thickly, not wanting to offend yet another shop owner, but neither could he stand stroking another swindlers ego. "I'm sorry, but I was looking for something a little more. . . genuine."
He heard Liam's hiss of disapproval from behind him but he wasn't sure if it was because of what he said or of the fact he let the accent slip a bit. Probably both.
"These aren't genuine?"
Hands trembling uncontrollably, Roddy closed them into tight fists, hoping the fear wasn't as plain on his face as it felt like it should be. Of all people to stand up to, he just had to choose the scariest looking one.
"No, unfortunately they are not. While quite beautifully designed and excellently crafted, it's still far from being authentic stones. See, you can tell."
Right before he picked one of the rings up to smash it against the counter, a memory of a similar incident three years ago on the Jammy Dodger flashed in his minds eye. Not wanting to go through all of that again, knowing that the outcome probably wasn't going to be so favorable for him, Roddy raised the ring to the light instead.
"You see those cracks and bubbles? Those are called inclusions and real gems don't have those."
The rat didn't appear to be in the least bit impressed by this fun fact, his eyes fixed hard and unyielding onto him. Probably trying to decide if he could sell him as a fur rug or something. Why, oh why did he insist on accidently picking fights with the meanest people? Seriously, this guy looked like he chews bones for breakfast!
Before Roddy could think of anything to pacify the grizzled creature, that sparkling (literally sparkling) smile returned and he leaned back heavily on a creaking, groaning chair. "So, what are you, some sort of gem expert on top of restaurant development?"
Finally able to breath somewhat, Roddy shrugged, reestablishing his, no doubt, very crappy southern accent. "No, nothin' like that. I just came from a family who used to own some real gems. I learned how to tell the difference."
"And you're hoping to find something like that around here, mate?" The pinstripe suit guffawed and slapped his knee heartily. "Hate to break it to you, but you're going to have to go much further than that if you're hoping to find anything remotely genuine like that. Very rarely do humans lose such fine jewelry down the sewers."
"Yes, well, I've kinda figured that out on my own already. Thank you." Roddy grumbled. He glanced to the side, prepared to grab Liam and take their leave but the runt had went and scampered off somewhere.
"You know," The old rat started. "I hate seeing customers leave unsatisfied. I have something that might be of interest to you."
Roddy watched Pinstripe walk around the desk and disappear between some shelves crammed full with bits and bobs. More clattering ensued, followed abruptly by a curse or two before he returned, clutching what appeared to be an old, dusty leather-bound book. He heaved the massive thing onto the counter, causing every object there to jump, and blew the dust off. The amount it collected was enough to practically fill the entire room and cause Roddy to cough.
"A book?" The younger male blinked, perplexed as he waved a hand to clear the air. "What're you wanting me to do, propose to my girlfriend with this? Dissolving pages, silverfish and all?"
Georgie snorted. "Full of jokes, aren'tcha lad. Careful, or that mouth of yours will get you in trouble one of these day. Not everyone has a good sense of humor like me."
Roddy's mouth twisted sheepishly. Oh, if only he knew the trouble he'd already landed himself multiple times in the past thanks to his slick tongue.
"This isn't any ol' book, me mate. This is a journal, handwritten by a very well-known human explorer. Many years ago, this fella found himself a priceless twenty-seven carat, teardrop sapphire in the eye of a mermaid carved into the bow of a sunken pirate ship. That's the size of your head. He had it fashioned into a ring and proposed to the woman he loved with it. Unfortunately, he wasn't the only one to know about the ship. Rival treasure hunters had stalked him down and threatened to kill his wife if he didn't give it to them. The woman, however, did not fork it over. Instead, she tied the ring around the neck of a street rat and told them that she would rather the London's vermin have it then their filthy paws, right before they killed her."
"That's rather morbid." Roddy muttered.
"Both the treasure hunters and the husband spent many years afterwards, searching for the rampant rat with her ring, but none were able to find it. The explorer eventually gave up and without his wife, he no longer had a reason to keep on exploring, so he sold all his things at auction houses and whatever didn't sell, he threw away in the garbage where eventually the rat with the ring came across it and decided to hide it somewhere with the only clues to find it written all throughout this here journal."
Roddy couldn't stop the skeptical raise of his brow. "You're making this up."
"Can't say for sure. I've read through it once and found the story quite fascinating, but while I am a scavenger and a collector, I'm no explorer. But you, oh I can tell, you have the makings of a great explorer."
He couldn't deny that the whole treasure hunting concept sounded intriguing, but, "As exciting as all that sounds, I'm on a bit of a time crunch. I'm not looking for an adventure, just an engagement ring."
"Well, unless you're fine proposing with costume jewelry, this is the only other solution, mate." Georgie tapped aggressively on the journal's cover, but then leaned forward again, hands splayed wide. "Imagine it though, for just a moment; you follow the clues, find the biggest, most beautifully genuine sapphire, having it crafted into the perfect engagement ring for your beloved. A man willing to go to so much trouble for one woman, there's absolutely no way she could say no! Plus, you have a very interesting story behind it."
"Sounds like a whole lot of poppycock." Roddy muttered at the same time as Liam exclaimed from beside him. "Got to say, I'm sold!"
Roddy whirled around. "And where have you been?"
"Bathroom. Honestly, Mils, I think this is a totally banger deal!"
"What about this is 'banger' exactly?" Roddy demanded, arms crossing over his chest. "We go follow some looney's scribbles, waste immense time and money only to find, what? Bugger all! I'm not about to look like a gullible, ringless idiot!"
"Like you need the book for that." Liam murmured with amusement under his breath, earning him a murderous glare in return.
"You are not helping your case."
"How about this, eh? Buy the book now, give it a quick read. If it doesn't sound as compelling as I do, then you can return it, full refund."
Roddy sighed, trying hard not to roll his eyes with impatience. "Again, it's not about interest. It's about time. I don't have time to go looking for a buried ring somewhere."
"Then keep it anyway. Who knows, it might make a great honeymoon trip, wouldn't you say?" Georgie argued with a cheeky wink. "If nothing else, it'll be a good read."
Roddy pursed his lips as he stared hard at the leather-bound journal; at the intricately pressed compass on the cover and two strips of leather tying it together. At the rub marks on the edges where it had been repeatedly touched and the lines in the spine every time it had been opened. Load of rubbish or not, it had been valued at some point in someone's life. It seemed such a shame for it to be left to rot away in this dump of a shop.
Sucking in a deep breath and blowing it out through his lips, Roddy reluctantly asked, "How much?"
Georgie's grin seemed to grow impossibly wider at this. "£249.01."
Roddy jerked back as if he'd been burned. "That's highway robbery!"
"It's Italian leather!"
"Thank you so much for your time, old chap, but I've really got to be heading out now. Have so much on my plate and so little time. Tallyhoe!"
"But, since you are a first-time customer, I'm willing to offer a 30% discount. What say you?"
Roddy grabbed a hold of Liam, closing his jaw when it opened to say something and spinning him around so he could push him towards the exit. "Exquisite chatting with you, have a fine rest of your evening."
"Alright, you've twisted my arm. 35%!" Georgie called.
The bells rang as the door swung open.
"40%!"
Roddy paused just before they crossed the threshold; a feeling that he was two inches from walking away from something amazing crawled across his spine. The memory of their exploration on the Jammy Dodger popping into his mind again, teasing him. . . tempting him.
"Go ahead to the Jon, I'll be there in a moment." Roddy whispered to Liam before turning back into the shop and tugging out his wallet.
Once you've tasted the sweet lure of adventure, it's very hard to go back. Who's also had dreams of going on exciting expeditions and becoming treasure hunters? This is why I became a writer! While I may never be any of this, I can live vicariously through my characters. LOL