A/N- Heyo! Did you miss this fanfic? I'm back with another chapter, and speaking of this fanfic, I have some news. If you did or did not know this, I finished up one of my fanfics, so that's partly the reason why I haven't updated this fanfic recently. However, since I am now done with that fanfic, you may be pleased to know that I will be making it my goal to finish writing CatRoN. I know many of you have been itching to see new chapters for this, so I will work hard to post chapters and get this fanfic done. I will sometimes be updating my other fanfics and such, but for the most part, all of my attention will be driven toward writing and finishing this fanfic ^^
Alrighty, before we start reading, here are my replies to a few of you who have commented! You reviewers are fantastic and deserve to be noticed:
Mixable: Thank you, I'm glad you do! Lol, you may or may not be right on that ;)
William RP: Aww, thanks! That makes me so happy to hear that you think that this story keeps on getting better and better ^^
Fan Boy 101: Haha, it certainly was nice to upload another chapter, that's for sure, and thanks!
Lelouch-Strife: Thank you!
Nightfiredragon: Lol, it certainly had been a while for sure! As for your question, possibly XD. And thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed it!
STG96: I loved reading your theory, and you certainly aren't wrong with most of what you said or typed out, I should say, lol! You and me both! I also always loved humans ending up in extraordinary situations like what's happening so far in my fanfic; it makes things entertaining! As the story goes on, you will soon see what'll come of Chris and where his life will be headed, but I'm delighted to know that you're enjoying the fanfic so far ^w^
godzillafan1: Thanks, and we shall see! Also, you're very welcome!
RoyalHyrule: Gracias and lol!
Bailey Radcliff: Thank ye, and you're welcome! I agree with ya for sure! With awesome reviewers like you, I, of course, gotta show my appreciation to you guys after all! So once more, thank ye, and you're welcome!
Brenne: I'm glad you think so and are looking forward to more of this fanfic! To answer your question, maybe, maybe not; you never know! Lol, so many possibilities as far as your thoughts go!
Brandon: Much appreciated, and it makes me happy knowing you're satisfied with the story!
Wow, that was a lot of reviews to reply to, but it was worth it! I will now let you guys get on with reading! Enjoy the chapter! Until then, I will see you all soon! Later!
Chapter 14
Wondrous Library
"Okay now, wait a minute, this isn't what you think. You don't understand what I'm doing here!"
Jeremy had made his way over to Mrs. Brisby's home to watch over the children as he had promised to do, but the next thing he knew, some crazy old shrew wearing a purple and orange attire bound him head to toe with his own string that was the color of blue. He sat on a large stone helplessly near the Brisby home and a few tree suckers that were now festooned with stings as part of the shrew's makeshift trap, continuing to be wrapped and tied in them.
"Think you can come snooping about, looting and pilfering, just when everyone's away?" the shrew challenged before throwing a loose end of a string that Jeremy was coiled in over her shoulder, carrying it toward the stone's ledge that was fastened and knotted with lots of the blue yarn.
Panic coursed through the crow's voice, and clutched at his gizzard as he tried to get on her good side. "Well, uh… Let me explain about… Oh! What a lovely hat you're wearing!"
The shrew did not take the compliment as she continued dragging the string. "Don't you sweet talk me!" As she got further out with the yarn, Jeremy's back was met with the stone, his legs levitated as the shrew then tethered the string to the knotted ones attached to the ledge. "I know you're in league with those awful rats!"
"Rats?" Jeremy asked—who was now on his front—trying to sound innocent as the shrew crossed back over to him. "Ummm… what rats?"
"Hoodlums, the lot of you!" she flung at him.
"Ummmm… why did you say rats?"
The shrew ignored his question, encircling the string around him once more. "You think the world owes you a living, right?"
Flashing a smile, Jeremy answered with a, "Right!"
"Wrong!" The word rolled off the shrew's tongue with effect as she continued making more string-tying rounds on the crow.
Jeremy's eyes goggled, realizing he got the two words mixed up, and he quickly tried to redeem himself. "Wrong!" He echoed and then rolled over to his back, laughing and trying to add humor. But as soon as it came, it smothered when he saw the shrew was still firm with her decision. "Ohhhh… look, nice lady, you're making a mistake!"
She looped the string around the crow's beak. "The sooner you delinquents learn that you must earn your own way…"
"Wait! Wait, can't we uh…" Jeremy trailed off, having difficulty speaking with the string half-muzzling his beak. While on his back, he tried to make eye contact with the shrew, his vision upside down. "Can't we talk this over?"
"...the sooner, the better." The shrew then tried to seal his beak shut with the string, but it refused to budge. Seething, she strode to the stone's ledge for Plan B.
Jeremy attempted to reason with her again. "You can't leave me like this! There's a ca… ca… There's a ca… He's a very big… and he might… mlfffp!"
Having a more straightforward attempt, the shrew pulled the noose around his beak tight, cutting him off mid-sentence, and did more string tying and knots so the crow would have no chance of calling out for help. "Good!" she sneered at him. "Good riddance!" The shrew threw her head over her shoulder. "Teresa! Martin!" She then aimed her words at Jeremy and pointed at him. "That's the least you deserve."
A young female mouse peered over near the stone ledge, clad in a dress with shades of purple, the skirt being poofy, with a patch stitched to it, and her hair was topped off with a pink bow. She had a light brown pelt, and her irises were the exact color as Mrs. Brisby's: blue as sapphires.
"Auntie?" She spoke up, making her presence known.
The shrew flicked her gaze to the mouse Jeremy presumed was named Teresa. "There you are!" She said, and right as the girl hauled herself up, she gripped her arm, guiding her toward the crow. "Keep an eye on this hooligan. Make sure he doesn't get away until I can fetch help." The shrew handed Teresa one of the main strings keeping Jeremy in place—who was struggling to free himself and was muffling—and set her narrowed gaze back on him as she scooped up her cane and pointed and flaunted it at him. "And as for you, you black buzzard"—she began warning him as she thrashed him on the beak once with her cane—"I wouldn't try anything! I shall return!"
With that, the shrew jumped off the stone, making her leave. Her words settled over Jeremy like a wave. The tension in his senses and physique was intense, and he wasn't sure whether to be more timid of the cat or that shrew.
Two more young mice appeared and joined Teresa around Jeremy. The only male in the trio with a gray coat wore a blue shirt that hugged his slightly chubby body but made up for it with the muscles in his arms and had brown hazel irises. The other mouse, a female younger than the other two, had the same color irises as the male, creme-colored fur, and wore a green bow around her waist.
The children studied Jeremy and then looked at each other, but the male mouse shrugged. "Well, I guess we'd better untie him," he nonchalantly said, shimmying up one of the ropes to the crow's head.
"But Martin…" Teresa started protesting to her brother as he pulled at the string holding Jeremy's beak shut.
Realization passed over Martin's features as he continued to help the crow. "Hey, Mom and Chris helped a crow in the field the day before yesterday…"
Jeremy started to make excited noises.
"He's trying to talk!" The youngest mouse perceived.
"He looks like a loony," Teresa remarked.
"...He even took them to see the… the Great Owl!" Martin added.
"So?"
"This could be the same crow!"
Jeremy nodded urgently as Martin finally undid the string, and he flopped onto his front, his tongue sticking out. "That's me all…" the crow started to say, needing a moment to gulp in some air before continuing as he tried to stand up. "Whew! I am the crow. Untie me quick; I can't stand it." He was obviously having a panic attack, even after blurting out that pun.
"What are you doing here?" Teresa inquired as she and her siblings began trying to undo all of the shrew's hard work.
Remembering what Mrs. Brisby told him, Jeremy said the first thing that came to mind. "Oh, that's a good question, but don't ask," he said, not exactly the best thing he could come up with, and was suddenly aware that he was about to lose his footing. "The legs… the legs… THE LEGS!"
His attempt to find balance again was fruitless as he teetered over, and the children jumped out of the way before either of them was crushed under Jeremy's weight. The crow's beak drove through the stone, making it look like he was doing a plank with his position, and the young ones winced.
The creme-colored mouse approached Jeremy, taking hold of the loose end of the string, and said with sympathy, "Aw, the poor turkey fell down."
"I'm…" Jeremy extracted his beak from the stone to speak properly, offended by what he was called. "I'm not a turkey! Your mother and Chris…"
When the crow mentioned their mother and Chris, the children dropped what they were doing. Jeremy felt a ball of nervousness form in his throat with the way they were staring at him, and he didn't even need to ask the reason for that. Their faces said it all.
"Where's our mother and Chris?!" Teresa demanded, fists on her hips.
"You big buzzard, where are they?" Martin chimed in.
Jeremy found himself being pinned down by the children. "Wait!" He exclaimed. "Hold it! No! Stop!"
Trying to force the truth out of him, Teresa pulled at his plumage, with Martin pouncing on him, tickling him, while the youngest mouse hung onto the string around his legs, bobbing up and down. Jeremy tried to be resilient, but the children were clearly not giving up until he came clean.
"What have you done with them?!" Teresa spoke with the same tone of voice.
Jeremy laughed as Martin continued torturing him with his tickles. "You're tickling!"
"You better tell me, or I'll tie you back up!" Martin threatened.
Cracking under pressure, Jeremy confessed to them. "The… the rosebush! To… to see the rats!"
The children finally ceased the tickling and pulling but were still unsatisfied. Teresa pointed at Jeremy and shouted, "Did you take them to the rats?!"
Without waiting for an answer, Martin marched away and said over his shoulder, "Well, I'm going to look for them."
"No, no, listen, hold it, wait a minute," Jeremy said, trying to get through to the children. Thinking quickly before the boy would likely get into a dangerous predicament, the crow blocked his path with his legs. "The rats, they're friendly! Good! Tonight…" The crow noticed Martin scaling over his legs and shook him off. "Stay!"
Jeremy looked like a lunatic as he desperately tried to explain to the children—who were now giving him his full attention. He hoped that Mrs. Brisby and Chris wouldn't get upset with him for being frank with them, but what other choice did he have?
"They're coming here to move your house where it's safe! Understand? Sta-a-ay… The Owl said they're good and smart. Get it?"
Silence.
"You're right," Martin admitted to Teresa. "He's a loony."
Jeremy's gizzard dropped to the ground. "Oh no… no, don't," he pleaded with them as they got to work on fixing up the trap. "You must… no, don't do this!..."
Martin lassoed the crow's beak, tying it shut again. Jeremy struggled once more, wiggling around like a worm. Perhaps children didn't love him after all…
"In here," Justin told Chris and Mrs. Brisby and flew open a set of double doors lined near other doors.
Chris and Mrs. Brisby had been following him through different corridors, and the tiny human had been observing what they had been passing by. This was practically an underground city! They had so much like a secret passage in his aunt's rosebush, an underwater elevator, a meeting chamber, living quarters, and so much more. He was trying to fathom how the rats worked out the structures around him, and his amazement never faded. It seemed impossible for a colony of rats to do such a thing, yet they worked wonders, and only one question popped into Chris's mind: How? Well, he sort of had one of the answers, but the rest remained unknown, like a chef's secret ingredient for their dish.
Upon entry, Chris could not believe the sight he was seeing. His eyes bestowed an actual library, and if he hadn't known about how these rats lived, he never would've believed they could have built something like this. The room was big, square, and well-lit. Walls and shelves were claimed by books stacked upon books stacked upon even more books, winding around and around, reachable only by ladders. Some books were strewn along the ground or on the several tables in sight—a couple were cluttered with paper—with benches beside them. The chamber smelled of parchment, book-binding glue, and ink, and it was pretty quiet here—the perfect definition of a library.
Noticing his expression, Justin gave a hearty laugh, his voice bouncing off the walls. "Weren't expecting this, were you, Chris?" He joked.
"I… well, I was expecting a take on a library," Chris admitted, "but I didn't think it would look like one. I'm impressed."
"And there's still much more you haven't seen, my friend."
"Books," Mrs. Brisby piped in, marveling at her surroundings. "They're books."
"Yes, that they are." Justin then gazed at the duo curiously. "Do you two read much?"
"Not really," Chris replied truthfully. "I'm more into photography. The only books I'll ever read are anything by Stephen King."
He didn't expect the two to know what he was talking about, but to his surprise, Justin commented, "Stephen King? Ah, I've read a few of his works. Quite the horror author he is."
Chris blinked. How does he know about him and his books? He thought, lost for words.
Justin's eyes landed on Mrs. Brisby. "And what about you, Mrs. Brisby?"
Though the field mouse seemed puzzled about who they were speaking about, she shyly said, "Only a little. My husband taught me and the children…"
Chris only needed one look to see that she was pensive at mentioning something her husband thoughtfully did for her and the kids. He wanted to console her, this kind-souled field mouse who sheltered him when she could've let him fend independently. The tiny human hated seeing her like this, especially with everything that was happening thus far.
Seeing her expression, Justin cleared his throat and lightheartedly said, "Well, while I'd love to stay and chat, I've got to get back to the meeting. I hate meetings, but this one's important. Make yourselves comfortable, and you are free to browse the library. Mr. Ages or I will be back to retrieve you and take you to Nicodemus."
Mrs. Brisby nodded understandingly. "Of course, thank you, Justin," she graciously said.
Expressing the same as her, Chris said, "Yeah, thanks."
Justin nodded and exited the library, gently shutting the doors behind him.
Chris took a deep breath and slowly released it. He had the feeling that this was going to be one long day. His mind raced like a race car driving on a track, wondering what would happen next as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. While it was a relief that the rats seemed willing to help Mrs. Brisby move her home, it begged the question if they'd keep their word or suddenly change their minds and drive away his friend and have him arrested. There were so many possibilities….
One thing Chris couldn't stop pondering about, though, was Jenner. Something about that rat didn't settle well with him: how he spoke, his facial expressions, his sudden 'change of heart,' etc. He hummed to himself.
Am I looking too deep into this? Chris thought, starting to doubt his own suspicions. Jenner is one of the reasons the rats are now willing to help Elizabeth… but why can't I shake the feeling that there's more to it?
He dug behind his shirt and pulled out the amulet that Justin suggested that he hide. Chris stared at it, pressing his lips in deep thought. Was the suggestion made because someone was after it? …Someone like…
His thoughts came to an end when he heard Mrs. Brisby sigh softly. Chris brought his gaze up to see her fidgeting with her hands and cloak while scanning the library, and he did not blame her whatsoever. He had no idea what to expect, especially when they would soon meet Nicodemus. What would the rat be like? It was hard to say; all they could do was see for themselves when the time came.
Chris stepped toward Mrs. Brisby, and when he got close enough, he gently placed his hand on her arm, and his heart stuttered at her warmth. The field mouse lifted her head to him, her eyes slightly ballooned, but at the same time, she seemed more relaxed by his hand contact and caring expression as if he were her salvation. For a moment, Chris forgot how to breathe as he got lost in her eyes—those beautiful sapphire blue eyes.
"It's going to be okay," Chris finally managed to speak, trying to reassure her.
A beat of silence passed before Mrs. Brisby said in a small voice, "I hope so…" She drew in a breath. She exhaled, then managed to conjure a weak smile toward Chris, the kind as gentle as morning sunlight, warming the tiny human's chest, even when she imparted her following words. "Thank you for coming with me. I don't know how I could've done this without you."
Chris mirrored the field mouse's expression. "As I said, you've helped me a lot, and I want to return the favor. A friend helps another, after all."
Chris could see that she was genuinely grateful for what he's done for her. Who would've thought a human and a mouse would have each other's backs? It was strange what paths could lead someone to, but even an unexpected one could lead to something quite extraordinary.
"So… what did you think of the rats?" Chris queried.
"Not what I was expecting," Mrs. Brisby said honestly. "They're… quite the mystery, I must say."
The tiny human nodded in agreement. "Tell me about it."
The field mouse's eyes moved toward the floor, contemplating something. "When I first met Jonathan and started to get to know him, he had always known so many things. It never occurred to me until now how he knew so much. Maybe the rats revealed some knowledge to him… but how did he know them? How does Mr. Ages know them?"
Chris wasn't sure. He didn't know what to make of this. Especially when his own name wasn't unknown in a way—according to what the Great Owl said. None of this made a lick of sense.
At the edge of his vision, Chris started to perceive something he didn't notice before when he and Mrs. Brisby came into the library with Justin. It was a blackboard that stood near the end of one of the most extended tables, nowhere near any bookshelves, and was scribbled with words and numbers from white chalk. Pieces of chalk and an eraser were nestled in a rack at the bottom of it.
Is the library also used as a classroom? Chris speculated.
Curious, he went to look at it closely, and it didn't take him long to make out a title near the top of the board in large letters:
THE PLAN OF THE RATS OF NIMH.
"The… Plan…" Mrs. Brisby tried to read aloud the words on the board, with Chris fully aware that she was now standing beside him, "of… the… rats… of NIMH." Her gaze shifted to meet Chris's. "There's that word again: NIMH. Have you heard of it, Chris?"
"Yeah, it stands for The National Institute of Mental Health," Chris informed her. "It's a scientific organization that tries to help prevent certain mental illnesses, but I don't know much else about them." He fixed his gaze back on the board, his brow puckering as confusion filled his eyes. "But how are NIMH and these rats connected…?"
And that was when he slowly thought of something… Was it possible—
"Chris, look," Mrs. Brisby said, interrupting Chris's train of thought as she pointed at more words on the blackboard. "There's more."
She was right, and Chris started to make out columns of words and figures:
Schedule
January:
Group 1 (10): Oats. 30 loads = 2 bu.
Group 2 (10): Wheat. 30 loads = 2 bu.
Group 3 (10): Corn. 20 loads = 1 ½ bu.
Group 4 (10): Misc. seeds Est. 10 loads total
It went on with more rows of figures, each headed by the name of a month: February, March, April, May, and so on through July. At the bottom, a lone square was ruled off:
Plows (Arthur's group) (14)
Plow No. 2. Complete: Jan. 1
Plow No. 3. Complete: Feb. 10
Plow No. 4. Complete: Mar. 20
"It's a schedule of assignments that need to be complete," Chris realized.
"For the Plan," Mrs. Brisby included.
Their gazes found each other's.
Suddenly, one of the double doors opened, and Chris and Mrs. Brisby tore their eyes away from each other to see a rat sauntering in with papers and a pencil in her hands, looking over her work. She was pretty young—possibly about Mrs. Brisby's children's age—with her fur the color of cinnamon and amber-brown eyes, almost golden in the library's lights. She was garbed in a simple dress green as basil, the skirt coming down to her ankles, and a lovely bow as yellow as a daffodil surmounted her head.
The rat was murmuring to herself, overlooking Chris and Mrs. Brisby. When she finally took her eyes off the papers, she jumped when Mrs. Brisby appeared in her line of vision (Chris did not) and gasped with her eyes widened, unconsciously dropping her stack of papers to the floor. "Who are you?" She inquired, slowly backing toward where she came in at. "I don't know you. How did you get in?"
Mrs. Brisby put her hands up in a peaceful manner. "It's alright," she calmly said. "We're a friend of Mr. Ages."
"We're?" The rat repeated and then turned her head, gasping again when she saw Chris.
The tiny human cringed, having expected a reaction like that to come out of her, and took the same approach as his friend. "I know, I know," he said, trying to be careful with his words. "Now, before you say anything, I just want to let you know that—"
Before he could finish what he was about to say, the rat squealed like a fangirl—frankly, not the best thing to do in a library—and threw herself at him, tangling her arms around him, which took him and Mrs. Brisby aback. "It's you!" She excitedly said. "It's actually you! You're Christopher Fitzgibbons!"
"Uh…"
"My parents told me about you! You're a hero!"
Chris slowly gazed at Mrs. Brisby, who was giving him a questioning look, and all he could do was shrug.
Embarrassed, the young rat immediately peeled herself from Chris and rubbed her arm. "Sorry, I'm usually not like that. It's just… it's finally an honor to meet you, sir…"
Chris couldn't be mad at her; she was just a kid who had probably just heard about his and Mrs. Brisby's arrival and was only intrigued. And who could blame her for her reaction? While he could understand it, he didn't quite get why she called him a hero. He wasn't one. He was just an ordinary guy who lived in an apartment in The Big Apple with a photography job.
Trying to be nice, Chris said in a friendly tone, "I-It's okay, and please, just call me Chris. So, what's your name?"
The rat's face brightened as she politely said, "Isabella."
"It's a pretty name."
Isabella bashfully straightened out her dress. "It's alright. Only my brother calls me Izzy. I don't like that."
Chris hummed at the unusual response. "I see."
"But I wouldn't mind if you called me that," Isabella quickly added. "That's if you're okay with that."
Saving Chris from the topic, Mrs. Brisby stepped in. "Forgive me for asking," she courteously said, "but where is your family?"
Isabella swung her head to the field mouse. "Oh, my father and brother are at the meeting. But my mother didn't go—the mothers don't always go. She's in the grain room, packing grain."
"For the Plan?"
The young rat nodded and started to gather up her papers with the help of Chris and Mrs. Brisby. "So, who let you two in? You certainly don't look like spies."
Chris emitted a chuckle. "Justin let me and Mrs. Brisby in," he let her know.
At the mention of Justin, Isabella's head shot up. "Justin?" She suddenly had a dreamy look on her face. "He's the best one of all; he's not even afraid of Dragon." She plopped on one of the benches when she had all her papers and opened a book. "Justin's also not married, and I'm too young to get married."
Chris could take a hint: she had a crush on Justin.
"I suppose so," Mrs. Brisby commented. "For a while yet. But that won't last long."
"That's what my mother says," Isabella responded and sighed longingly. "But it seems long. And Justin might marry somebody else."
"Maybe not. He's pretty young himself yet."
Deciding it would be best to change the subject, Chris asked Isabella a question. "Do you like to read?"
A smile curved at Isabella's lips, and she nodded. "My favorite genre is probably romance or fantasy—actually, probably a mix of both. While I'd love to read a book I'm usually into, I have some studying to do. I don't mind, though; I like learning."
"And what is it you're studying exactly?" Mrs. Brisby said with interest.
"Some history about the humans."
Chris chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, if you have any questions concerning that topic, feel free to ask me since I am human."
Isabella's eyes lit up, and if they would've, they would've been smiling. "I'd like that. Thank you, sir–I mean, Chris."
One of the double doors went ajar, and the trio looked over to see Mr. Ages lingering by the doorway. "Mrs. Brisby?" He called out. "Mr. Fitzgibbons? Come with me. It's time for you to meet Nicodemus."