The Mouse

“Mittens. 3 months. 50%... Hmm… I wonder what that means. I’ve never noticed that before, written on the side of this… well. What is this? Where am I? Oh, this is overwhelming.” Mittens scrambled around the room for a moment in terror. Eventually, he came to a stop and slumped onto his sawdust bed. “Let’s take a moment to think. I remember waking up here, in this room... but nothing before that. What else can I be sure of? I have hands, I can see those. I’ve got fingers, toes, a nose, and if I can see all of those then I must have eyes too. Okay, that’s a good start!”

As he spent his morning pondering where and what he was, many other mice spent their mornings with one thought: Cheese. To Mittens, cheese meant nothing more than: hydrogen, community parks, Friday, being in debt, Frankenstein, or road-rage… this is to say, to Mittens, everything meant everything. His tiny brain was now coursing with the joy of understanding, rippling with the sweet passion of emotion. Mittens was ready and eager for whatever life may have in store.

Once he had finished getting comfortable with his surroundings, his attention was fixed on the ceiling of his room. Right beside the heat lamp, he spotted a hole with what he guessed was a

camera poking through. “I suppose whoever placed me here can surveil me through that hole,” he said to himself, scratching his chin in deep thought. How did he know what a camera was? The memory of a booming voice saying, “The camera is working.” Flashed into Mitten’s miniature mind’s eye. Many memories flashed back now.

Why would anybody want to watch Mittens in his bedroom? It felt rather perverse.

There was a large sealed doorway to his left, which Mittens began to carefully pry at. He ought to leave, he thought, but the door was sealed tight. Sitting back on his pile of sawdust, Mittens decided that he should try to escape once the door opened, after all, somebody had to come and feed him eventually. Perhaps if he managed to break the camera they would come to fix it.

As he glanced back up at the camera, it began to shudder above him. The camera was being tugged on from above. Salvation! Mittens craned to see where camera was receding to. Just as it escaped from sight, a rope was tossed down, and a voice came echoing from the dark. “Climb up! We’re breaking out of here.”

Yes! This felt like a better option than waiting for the door to open. The rope swayed in front of him and he grappled it with all his might, wrapping it in his coiled tail and heaving himself upwards.

When at last he was at the precipice, a hand offered itself to him. Mittens grabbed hold and was hauled into a shadowy tunnel. Shafts of light beamed up in steady intervals along the length of the darkness, streaking silhouettes through the gloom. “Hello?” Mittens enquired. He could see the wires from his camera above him, streaking up and down like hungry red snakes. Every few metres (or what seemed like metres to a mouse) other cameras pointed down into holes just the same as his own. When he looked one way, the cameras were raised, and the other way they remained lowered.

“Hello, Mittens,” an elderly looking mouse offered his handshake, “I am Abel.”

As Mittens shook Abel’s hand, he felt the frailty of his grip, and saw the ragged rising and falling of little lungs, caged beneath his ribs. Abel seemed to be the elder of the group which stood before him, and Mittens felt like he himself must be the youngest. “Pleased to meet you Abel, and thanks for freeing me. How is it that you know my name?”

Abel gestured to the wall with Mitten’s name printed across it. “Mittens, 50% dose. The pleasure is all ours!” Abel straightened up and gave introductions.

Stood beside Abel was Jude, a dormouse whose bulging jet black eyes stared at Mittens over his steadily twitching whiskers. After a curt “Hello.” Jude scurried off to the next camera.

A female mouse named Whisper bowed her head in respectful courtesy when she was introduced. Her fur was of the deepest umbral shadow, and she had a little nick taken from her left ear. A small white patch of fur caught the glinting of Mittens’ cell light on the underside of her jaw as she smiled to greet him.

Behind them all was a rotund gerbil called Brownie, who’s chocolate fur gave him the appearance of a Christmas Pudding. He sidled past the others to gently shake Mittens’ hand.

Once Abel had introduced them, he informed Mittens of the experiments that they were undergoing, and that more prisoners remained to be rescued.

From ahead of them, Jude the dormouse called grimly back, “This one’s dead already.” He pointed down the hole, a hamster lay face down in his food bowl, having gorged himself to death. Something about the tone of Jude’s voice irked Mittens. This dead hamster was once a life just as valuable as any of them. They lingered above him for a moment before moving on.

Down the next hole, a lithe rat, whose name (Roach) was emblazoned across the side of his cell along with ‘6 weeks. 30%’. He did not notice them moving his camera, and disregarded the rope when it fell in front of him.

“Come now, friend,” Abel called, rousing the rat from his listlessness.

Roach looked up, his nose twitching, seemingly attempting to form a sentence. “Alone. No rats. Just leave me.” Rats are incredibly social animals, Roach’s solitude had clearly driven him to depression.

“There are many rats in the wild, if you just climb our rope, you will find them.” Whisper softly reasoned. This argument was enough to convince Roach to hoist himself up their rope and into the tunnel. He sighed in utter dejection at his greeting of non-rats.

Jude was already at the next hole, “10%,” he grunted, he was shaking, his tiny fists balled up in baleful whiteness. Below Jude was another dormouse that had been given a 10% dose. Her name was Jess, and she was incapable of speech, her unthinking black eyes reflected Jude back at himself. “We should just leave her, what could the world hold for her?” Jude’s resembled a war leader.

Something within Mittens boiled over. He grabbed Jude by his flanks pinned him to the rubbery wall, “How can you say that? Look what they’ve done to us! You can’t expect us to leave her!” While intellect was a gift to Mittens, it was clear that with a lower dose, the gift may well have resembled punishment.

Jude deflated under Mittens like a toy slinky, looking desperately to Abel, who had already ushered Brownie the Christmas Pudding to lower the rope into Jess’ cell. “10% or not, all animals are equal. If you were given less than 90% would you ask us to leave you?”

Jess, in her hole, just stared emptily at the rope, sniffing it with half interest. This seemed to give Jude a second wind, and he snorted his indignation, “If I was any less intelligent I would want you to put me out of my misery.”

“Whisper, please help Jess up the rope.” Abel instructed, ignoring Jude’s attitude.

Jude’s whiskers bristled and he watched Whisper descend. She re-emerged moments later with a confused looking Jess in arm. Abel asked Whisper to look after Jess as they pressed on.

The final hole housed a raccoon (0% dose), who was much too large to be pulled through his camera hole. There was nothing that could be done. Even Abel decided that it was too great a risk to remain here any longer to try and devise a plan. They moved on without another word. Mittens grieved for the dead hamster and the trapped raccoon. If his own situation had been any different he too could’ve remained in this prison forever.

The group found themselves in twisting tubes, slowly sniffing their way to freedom, frequently looping back in confusion. Presently, a tremendous battering sound could be heard above them, like the footfalls of a Spartan war march. It was enough to give them pause. Whisper had to tighten her hold on Jess to keep her from fleeing the noise. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that.” She confessed, straining to keep Jess in tow.

Abel turned to them, “That, my friends… is rain. And it is not to be feared.” Two large yellow teeth poked out from his lips, as he grinned. Abel turned and led his friends fervently toward the sound of the rain, which grew to a deafening assault before they at last caught a glimpse of daylight.

Rounding one final corner, they found a world of verdant foliage, tree bark deeper even than Brownie’s chocolate fur, and dull grey buildings which rose to cleave the clouds. Everything was washed under a metallic coating of earthy rainfall, which tossed up the smell of the city below. The once stale atmosphere of their prison crumbled behind them, as this new sodden expanse opened up. One by one, the rodents pattered out onto a balcony. They could see the entire world.

It was so incredibly vast that Mittens was unsure of where to go first, he could never have dreamt of such expanse.

“This is far too big for us.” Brownie muttered, it was the first time Mittens had heard him speak. He almost agreed with him, until Abel chimed back in, his grey fur now soaked with rainwater.

“Freedom is the right of all animals. We were kept in captivity for so long we have forgotten we are owed. Yes, the world is large. But this land is our birthright as children of the earth,” he turned to Brownie, “There are those out there who would shrink at the sight of us, and there are an equal number who wouldn’t give us a second look. That is not for us to worry upon. Come now, Brownie, be fearless, be curious, be you.” With his last word he lay his wizened paw upon Brownie’s trembling arm, softly calming him to stillness.

A week went by, and the rodents had fashioned themselves a home in a little burrow beneath an oak tree. It wasn’t much. Bedding made from dry leaves and lengths of fabric, and another spot with sticks covered in plastic where they stored food. Right beside the food store was a rather ingenious dining table which Abel had built himself. Brownie had ended up doing the majority of the heavy lifting, near enough putting his back out, while Jude scoffed and put his feet up. Once the home was built, Brownie spent most of his time nursing his back at Abel’s table.

Mittens and Roach the rat had initially been in charge of scouting for food, Roach was fine tuned for finding all sorts of delights: strawberries, half eaten sandwiches, all manner of vegetables, they even found an entire fresh fish one night, which they baked in tinfoil and shared. That was the best night they had. After the third day, Roach yearned for rats so badly that he stole himself away under cover of twilight. The next morning Jude was beside himself, “What gives him the right?” he spluttered, much to the ire of Mittens and Whisper. Jess just cowered in her bedding.

Their food supply dwindled over the next few days. Mittens had still been tasked with foraging for food, now with Brownie to assist. The pair of them were no match for Roach’s nose, and could only find meagre rations in the forest each day. They ventured to the forest’s edge many times, gazing over the human metropolis. Without Roach to guide them, the city was far too dangerous, and they didn’t try it.

On the final night, they had all but eaten themselves out of their supplies, even Abel began to falter. A meeting was held that night. All huddled around Abel’s dining table.

“We have to move, this burrow can’t sustain us anymore.” Brownie offered.

Abel shook his head, he sank into himself, he had grown so weary with lack of food that his mind was failing him. “I’m afraid you may be right. But we are in no state to travel.”

Jude spat, “Every man for himself then.”

Mittens was far past the point of bickering with Jude. His mind was on poor Jess, who may have been better off in the prison, than out in the wild. Maybe Jude was right after all. “We escaped as a team, we remain as a team.” Mittens said after careful consideration.

Whisper was at Jess’ side, “We can’t go anywhere, Jess can’t travel in this condition, neither can Abel. We will have to leave tomorrow, even without Roach, maybe we can find food in the city.”

She was right. Everybody knew it. The next morning they intended to venture out as a group, leaving Abel to take care of Jess. They would find food, and bring it back, then all leave together. This was their only hope. The sun had already gone to sleep beyond the horizon, the rays of moonlight slipping gracefully through the thickets and into their burrow. It was a finer sight than his heat lamp, thought Mittens, as he drifted to sleep between Brownie and Whisper.

The next morning Mittens was awakened by screaming. Abel and Jess lay discarded on the floor, their little noses blue with death. Whisper held the lifelessness of Jess in her trembling paws as she wept, not saying anything, into her soft cold fur.

“That filthy bastard!” Brownie roared, “Jude did this. He took the last of our food and ran off! Why’d he have to kill them?”

Mittens was all but beside himself, but he knew he was the de facto leader and he would need to act fast; nobody else had noticed the rainwater pooling at their feet. “Quickly! Everybody out!” He ran to Whisper and grabbed her by the waist, heaving her kicking and screaming to the mouth of their home. Brownie was beside him, solid as wrought iron.

Mittens didn’t know if he had the strength to say it, but he only knew one place where they could shelter. Back to captivity? Or death in the wild? He knew the choice before he made it.

As they approached the prison, Brownie realised Mittens’ plan. “You can’t possibly expect us to go back in there.”

“I don’t see a choice.”

Brownie shook his head, “I’m sorry Mittens... I can’t.” Brownie turned, frozen solid in place, before facing Mittens again, his eyes filled with terror. “There’s no hope out here is there?” he blubbered.

“No.” Whisper answered, she hadn’t spoken all day.

It was settled then. They began to clamber up cables to the balcony they had escaped from, Whisper had regained her strength and made the climb unaided. Mittens led the trio, tenderly placing each hand ahead of him. The rainwater slashed at his fingers and made him slip more than once. The higher they got the more certain he felt that any fall would kill him. With a heavy clunk, Mittens threw both hands over the balcony’s edge, he was safe.

Mittens spun around and threw down a hand to Whisper, twining their fingers together and pulling her to safety. Now he must help Brownie; it was a miracle that he had made it that far after how much he had pushed his body this week. Mittens peered over the ledge, and Brownie was just out of reach, panting as the rain soaked through his coat and weighed him down. “I’m not going to make it!” he wept.

Mittens stretched as far as his tiny bones could allow him, but it was still not enough. He couldn’t let his friend fall. The days they had spent foraging were the finest of Mittens’ life. Brownie began to slip.

“Help us!” Mittens sobbed at Whisper, who quickly wrapped her tail around his. This allowed Mittens to sink even lower, closer to Brownie.

It still was not enough.

Mittens began to cry as Brownie slipped lower and lower. There was no hope of saving him. He couldn’t bear to watch. Mittens closed his eyes, only for a second, and when he opened them, Brownie was gone. He just wanted to scrub it all away. If the scientists inside this prison had given him thought, they could surely take it away.

Mittens hauled Whisper away from the ledge as they sobbed into each other’s fur. It took them hours to find their old cells again. They passed the raccoon that they had left, sleeping peacefully inside its room. He was the lucky one.

The pair of mice leapt the next cell, and hammered on the doorway until somebody opened it. A human scientist towered over them, eyeing the pair with grim fascination. Nobody spoke for the longest time, furry chests trembling with each breath.

“Turn us back into normal mice.” Mittens ordered.

The human jumped backwards and yelped, “You—You can speak?”

“Please turn us back.”

The dazed scientist fumbled around in a drawer. Moments later his great hands returned with two small pills, which he placed in their paws. “Take them,” the scientist spluttered. He left them there, alone.

Mittens and Whisper took one last look at each other. Turning the pills over in their fingers for what felt like eternity before swallowing them. Their expansive worlds slowly faded around them as the pills took effect. Memories of Abel, Jess, and Brownie began to fade. They still looked at each other, but nothing remained behind their eyes. It was with a peaceful melancholy, that two new mice began to squeak.