When You Wish upon a Rat (9 page)

Howard
was
a weirdo. But she liked him.

After a few blocks, the paving gave out and they were walking along a narrow, winding dirt track. There were trees on both sides, but it wasn't dense bushland, and Ruth could see the small farms and houses that were dotted here and there. After the cramped bus ride and the unpleasant conversation with the woman at the service station, a spurt of energy seemed to hit them both and they quickened their pace. The smells and sounds of the country were making Ruth feel as if a plug had been pulled out from the top of her spine. She smiled to herself. Something was loosening knots in her backbone.
Smile, Ruthie!
they were always telling her.
Get the frown off your face.
She looked across at Howard, about to tell him how she was always being told to lighten up, but he seemed preoccupied with his own thoughts, so she kept quiet. She pushed her shoulders back and kept on walking.

“No one knows where I am,” Ruth said suddenly, more to herself than Howard.

“Except me,” Howard said.

They smiled at each other.

“Did you see your aunt dead?” he asked abruptly.

“No.” Ruth was surprised by the question but didn't mind it. She'd been thinking about Mary Ellen and the way she liked
walking at night. Sometimes when Ruth stayed over they went walking at night for ages after dinner. Traversing the inner suburbs, along back roads and through parks. Ruth loved it, especially in winter, when it was dark and no one else was about and her aunt would tell her things.

“But I saw her really sick,” she offered.

Howard nodded.

“Have you ever seen a dead person?” Ruth asked curiously.

“Yeah,” he said, “I was in a car accident where someone … died.”

“You were
there?
” Ruth's head filled with a mess of chaotic images, but she couldn't imagine what it would be like.

He nodded.

Then she remembered hearing that Howard's mother had died in an accident. This was before she'd gotten to know him at all. She didn't know if the story was true. A lot of stories about Howard bounced around that school. For someone so quiet with no friends, he'd certainly made a weird impact on a lot of people.

“Did your aunt talk about the rat after she gave him to you?” Howard asked.

“Oh yeah.” Ruth laughed.

The world that Ruth and her aunt had developed around Rodney started well before Mary Ellen got really sick. In fact, it started the week after Ruth brought him home. Mary Ellen had dropped
in for a cup of tea. When Ruth's mother was out of the room, Mary Ellen had asked Ruth in a playful whisper what she thought the rat might get up to when they were all asleep. It had ballooned out from there. Sometimes the two of them had arguments about what the rat might think about this or that, or whether he was really angry about something or maybe just faking it. It was a game, but a serious one all the same.
Oh, I wonder if Rodney would be interested?
her aunt might say as she flipped through the paper and came across an article on facial hair reduction.
What do you think, Ruthie? Will we cut it out for him?
So much fun they'd had! Ruth and her aunt would try to guess the rat's views on everything from climate change to high heels—
Just had a word with him, darling … he takes a dim view of them
—and explode with laughter. Ruth loved the sparkle that would rush into her aunt's eyes when she was pretending to be Rodney.
Well, what else would you expect from a … rat!
She'd sigh, and Ruth would start giggling.

Of course, half the fun was that no one else was in on the joke. It was
theirs.
Ruth's mother would shake her head as though she didn't even want to understand because it was all too ridiculous. But occasionally Ruth had the feeling that her mother was jealous.
For goodness' sake, Mary Ellen, stop it!
she'd said once.
You're a grown woman! The girl's imagination is fiery enough without you encouraging her!

“No girl's imagination is ever
too
fiery,” Mary Ellen had
whispered to Ruth when her mother was out of the room. “Never forget that, Ruthie. Keep it stoked now, won't you? Keep it as fiery as hell!”

“You used to hang out with those girls at school,” Howard said suddenly.

“Yeah.”

“So what happened?”

Ruth shrugged. It was as if she didn't know how to go about friendship anymore. All the secrets and intricacies eluded her. She'd burned her bridges the day they all came over to go shopping with her, to cheer her up. An involuntary shudder went through her as she remembered. After that day, hanging out on her own had become virtually her only option; in fact, it had begun to seem increasingly normal.

from her hospital bed.

“Sweetheart, I want you to have a heap of nice new clothes,” she'd explained as she handed over the envelope. Ruth's heart soared. Everything she had was old and unfashionable.

“Go on, open it,” Mary Ellen had prompted.

Ruth gulped when she saw that her aunt had given her a thousand dollars. “But I can't …” Ruth stumbled on her words.

“You can and will,” Mary Ellen said. “I want you to have some nice things. Your mum knows about it. It's to be spent on clothes and shoes. Maybe a little makeup, if you like. Nothing else, okay?”

“But it's too much,” Ruth whispered.

“No, it's not,” Mary Ellen said emphatically. “You're growing up. You need a few nice things. Start off with a coat and nice boots. You've got great taste. Take your time and only buy things you love.”

“Thank you
so
much!”

“You're welcome, darling.” Mary Ellen sighed thoughtfully. “You either love clothes and fashion or you don't. Your mum and Faye were never interested, and that doesn't make them inferior in any way, but if you are interested, as I know you are, it actually
hurts
not to have nice things!”

“Yes,” Ruth said quietly, brushing away tears with the back of her hand.

“Your mum is the best, Ruthie, but she doesn't really understand, does she?”

“No.” Ruth shook her head.

“And money is tight. They've got three kids and they have to spend on essentials. That's why I'm arranging things for you … in advance.”

A chill went down Ruth's spine.

“Please … don't … go anywhere.” Ruth was overwhelmed by all she wanted to say. “Don't …
go away
or anything.”

Mary Ellen took her hand and squeezed it. “You'll be fine. I know you will.”

None of the conversation had seemed real at the time; even the gift certificate Ruth held in her hand seemed like it was part of a dream. But she didn't know how to begin to tell her aunt any of this.

After the funeral was over, Ruth's mum wouldn't leave her alone about the gift certificate.

“Ruthie, when are you going to buy your things with Auntie Mary Ellen's money?”

“Soon.”

“It'll lift your spirits to go shopping.”

“I'm okay, Mum, really.”

“You need some new things. And you have the money now.”

“I know. I'll go.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No!”

Her mother had looked hurt but said nothing.

Ruth cringed. The very idea of going into those cool shops with her mother was the stuff of a nightmare. But the truth was, she was terrified herself. She had no idea what she should buy first. To have so much money was scary.

Then one Saturday morning her mother broke the news that she'd organized a shopping expedition behind Ruth's back.

“All the girls will be over soon,” Mrs. Craze informed Ruth gaily as she sat at the kitchen table finishing her breakfast.

“Who?” Ruth asked warily. Apart from Lou, who'd been over once—and what a disaster that had been—none of her other friends had ever even
seen
her house, so she had no idea who her mother meant.

“Your friends, darling. Lou and Bonnie and Katy and who is the other one? I've forgotten.”

“
What?
” Ruth stared at her mother in horror.

“I met Lou's mother down the street,” Mrs. Craze chattered on proudly. “She told me that all your friends were concerned when they heard about Mary Ellen. Why didn't you tell them, I wonder. Anyway, we got talking and decided that you should go shopping with your girlfriends.”

“You did
what
?”

“Oh, darling, please.” Her mother's cheerful expression took on an anxious edge. “I thought you'd love it. Going shopping with your friends will do you good.”

“But
you
don't know my friends!” Ruth spluttered.

“I met Lou that time,” her mother said reproachfully, “and I met her mother at the parent-teacher night last week, and we ran into each other again, so …”

“You shouldn't talk to other parents when you go to those things!”

“Oh, Ruth.”

“I don't want to go shopping.”

“It's already arranged.”

“But it will be so embarrassing! Besides, they've got better things to do.”

“But they're your friends. Lou's mother said they're all lovely girls and would be happy to come.”

All your friends are concerned for you.
Since the funeral, Ruth knew she hadn't been herself. Her friends didn't know what to
make of her, and Ruth didn't know what to make of herself. It was as if she'd forgotten how to play the game. She came out with opinions that the others didn't like and laughed in the wrong places. Her friends would raise their eyebrows or give the odd deep sigh to let her know she'd made another mistake. Most of the time she felt they were
putting up
with her. But it went the other way too. Sometimes when she was with them, Ruth only just managed to hold herself there. Part of her wanted to back away and start screaming …

“So when are they coming?”

“This afternoon.” Her mother sighed. “Try to be nice.”

Ruth gulped and felt a fresh spasm of nerves hit her gut.

“Do they want to come?”

“Why wouldn't they?”

Where to begin?
Ruth looked pointedly around the messy kitchen, the strips of paint hanging from the ceiling, and her brothers' cereal-encrusted dishes, but her mother's back was turned so she didn't see.

“You just don't get it, Mum, do you?” Ruth whispered.

“What was that, love?”

“Nothing,” said Ruth. “So, Lou and who else?”

“All the gang,” her mother said brightly. “Bonnie and Katy and … Susie!”

The gang?
Ruth's jaw began to clench. There were some things adults should never say. She walked out of the room
without another word. Just the idea of having all her friends in her house made her feel faint with terror.

“Now, try to be nice, Ruth!” her mother called after her.

“Ruth! Your friends are here!”

Ruth got up from where she'd been lying on her bed and walked down to the kitchen.

Lou, Katy, Susie, and Bonnie were standing in the middle of the room in a tight group, looking around suspiciously at the greasy wallpaper and battered fridge. Mrs. Craze had made an effort, and for that Ruth knew she should be grateful. There was no mess on the table and the washing-up was done. Newspapers had been piled into the far corner along with her father's boxes. It was well short of anything her friends would be used to, but it did look better than usual.

They were all dressed in cute clothes: halter tops, strappy dresses, jeans, and miniskirts. Lou was in pink and had her hair done in tiny braids. Katy was wearing huge shiny earrings. They all smiled when they saw her.

“Hey!” plump little Bonnie squealed. “Love the jeans!”

“Thanks.” Ruth flushed. These were her old jeans, the ones she always wore. Bonnie was trying to be kind.
Or not.
Depending on how you wanted to look at it.