I paused the movie, confused. "Where?" I asked.
"Look right there," she said as she got up and quietly went to the right side of my work desk, ready to shake my laptop bag in an effort to spook the rat out of hiding, "wait for it."
She shook the bag, and I saw a tiny furry creature that looked more like an innocent door mouse scurry left-side with it's tiny little feet.
Sonuvabitch. We tried for a while to get it out but to no avail, so we decided to let it be for now, even though deep down I wanted that baby rat to leave, cute or not. I had no issues with it as a creature, but I had definite issues with it with regards to it's teeth and the many computer and audio cables that snake about my work area.
It explained the weird sounds I'd been hearing over the past few days coming from the kitchen and my surrounding areas. It must've snuck in when I had the windows and doors open to air the place out in the day before switching on the air conditioning at night. And now it was somewhere in the house, scurrying about.
The next day, I was awoken by the sound of its tiny feet scurrying about.
Whilst I was asleep, I had woken up at some points thinking the little bugger was on my feet, though I'm quite sure I was just dreaming as I don't know any rat, especially a baby rat, with the guts to actually scurry up on a human, sit on its feet while its sleeping, and watch the human sleep. That would a be a disturbed rat and I have no interest in such disturbed rats.
Regardless, I woke up early in the morning to the sound of its feet behind one of my filing cabinets. I quietly tip-toed to the area where I heard the sound and that's where I saw it.
Nibbling on year-old rat poison.
I totally forgot the rat poison was there and thought I'd gotten rid of most of it. A year ago we discovered a big rat hiding about upstairs, so my mother stuck rat poison everywhere to get rid of it. At some point the rat got trapped in one of the store rooms and stupidly ate all the rat poison and, in its death throes that seemed to last hours, it kept banging at the door, chewing at the wood, trying to break free before it died.
It was a huge fucking rat.
This one was tiny, about the size of a teenage hamster, but it had the propensity to grow into a fat rat and though I wasn't having any of that, I didn't like the idea of this tiny little baby rat dying the same death. That last rate was a huge motherfucker that would eat antique furniture. This one was itsy bitsy and could have a bright and illustrious future chewing on the many refuse found lying about in Uptown where rats and cats live in harmony.
If only it would get out of my damn house.
The second it saw me, it scurried off. I went back to sleep. Then I heard it again. I went over to the same spot and there it was, chewing on the rat poison again.
This rat poison must be pretty tasty, huh?
Again, it ran off when it saw me. The area it was in was less than a meter away from the sliding glass door, so I slid it open and waited, hoping it would leave.
But the fucker didn't.
This whole issue with the rat reminded me of my UK years when we discovered squirrels in the house. We came home one day and my dad walked into his bedroom to find a squirrel hanging from the curtain. It turned around with the surprised look of a woman being caught unawares in the shower before scampering throughout the house whereupon my friends and I went chasing after it.
In the end we found three squirrels in the house, one after the other, and I still had some hamster cages so we put them in there for the time being.
The squirrels then started making a weird sound, all together in unison, for quite a while. We then found out why.
There, in my dad's bedroom, was the Mommy Squirrel.
We thought the squirrels we caught were huge but they were nothing. Mommy Squirrel was big. It was huge and furry and fast as fuck.
And it was pissed.
My friends and I tried to catch her the same way we caught the other squirrels - by hand - but Mommy Squirrel was having none of it. Her teeth were huge and she didn't mind using them, snapping away at us whenever we got close. Her claws were sharp and vicious and she wasn't gonna be played like a fool.
My dad was pissed and started yelling at Mommy Squirrel, attacking it and giving it shit until finally, with the aid of a thick rag cloth, he managed to catch her and dumped her outside.
But here's the thing - how did they get in? Well, it was discovered much later that there was a hole somewhere in the roof which gave them access to my parents' bedroom, so Mommy Squirrel could come back any time.
And Mommy Squirrel held a grudge.
Meanwhile, we had her children and had no idea what to do with them. My parents had some stuff to do and then after that they were going to take the squirrels to the park nearby to set them free. Until then, I had ample time to bond with the squirrels.
So we all sat down and watched 'Yo! MTV Raps!'
What followed was weird on many levels. The squirrels kept crying for Mommy Squirrel, but after a while their eyes started to turn to the television and after a while they were transfixed to the imagery that came with the sound of the Wu Tang Clan, Cypress Hill and Dr. Dre. I don't know whether it was the music or the videos themselves, but these squirrels started keeping quiet, eyes fixed on the television, mesmerized, hypnotized, tamed. So tame, in fact, that I opened up one of the cages and started stroking one of the squirrels and it let me, eyes fixed on Mobb Deep's vid for 'Shook Ones'. Perhaps the videos have a subliminal message, perhaps it's the music, I don't know, but it was weird nonetheless.
Second I switched off the TV they were making their crying noises again.
Later that day my parents let the squirrels go in the park but Mommy Squirrel still held a grudge, a very specific grudge against my dad. I'd heard stories of this. Some Malays believe that you should never yell at the creatures you find in your house or surrounding areas, be they vermin, insect, lizard, whatever. You shouldn't yell at them, shouldn't give them shit and shouldn't attack them viciously because they will remember you. And this Mommy Squirrel remembered my dad.
The next day my dad came home to find his clothes ripped up. Not just any clothes at random, mind. It was the exact clothes he wore on the day he gave Mommy Squirrel shit. Mommy Squirrel didn't touch my mom's clothes, she didn't touch the other clothes, just the ones my dad wore yesterday.
After that my dad stepped outside and apologized out in the garden to Mommy Squirrel, hoping she'd hear. We then found the hole and sealed it up and never heard a thing from the squirrels again.
Back to the present - remembering this event of the squirrels in the past, I tried to reason with the rat. I went to the center of my house and called out for it.
"Hey. Look, buddy, I'm not looking for any trouble, alright? So if you just keep to yourself and I'll keep to myself we'll work this out, ok? I'd prefer it if you leave but if you've gotta stick around just don't make a mess or bite my cables or poop everywhere, alright buddy? Please. Thank you."
Later that night I was working at my desk and turned to find the rat starring at me on the floor by the piano on my right. I looked at the rat. The rat looked back.
And then the rat fucked off into the piano.
I opened the sliding door again and tried to coax the rat to leave but it was having none of it. He liked it here and it looked like there was nothing I could do about it.
"Look," I told the rat, "just stop bugging me and everything'll be alright."
But the rat didn't listen. Perhaps it didn't speak English.
The next day I came home in the evening, took off my shoes and brought my groceries into the kitchen, where I found the rat sitting on the stove, starring at me once again.
What the fuck is this, man, Mousehunt?
He scurried under the stove and I quickly closed the door. I then went to the other doors and closed them too. Finally, I opened up the door leading to the back garden, just wide enough for the rat to leave.
I then tried to coax the rat out of the stove but instead of heading the direction I'd hoped, he zoomed off underneath my brand new fridge. I took a broom and tried to coax him out but he was having none of it so instead I had to move the entire fridge.
Halfway through, the little bugger finally took the hint and scurried to the first door - locked! Second door - locked! Door to the back garden - bingo!
And finally, the rat has left me.
But I still worry. Right now the windows and doors are open. I'm a smoker and male, I need to air out the house every day otherwise weird smells will accumulate. And the rat could come in any time... or even it's mother. And God only knows what its mother looks like. Perhaps it's one of those Uptown rats, the ones that stomp all over my roof and sound like freerunners. Perhaps the rat that died upstairs was its husband. Perhaps it wants revenge.
Shit. I think I heard something coming from the kitchen.
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