Michael 003

    Michael Gallagher, a little mouse in a big city, locked the door to his apartment and put on a smile so sincere only hours of practice could have made possible.

 

    Those who knew Michael, wouldn't assume a smile was something he'd practice. Anyone who spent an extended period with him would find him kind, quiet, sappy but also a bit thick. If you really knew him, you'd have learned that beneath the mushy exterior of his everyday life, lurked something hard. Unyielding and uncompromising like a fortress. Supposing that someone got close enough to breach barrier, what they'd find might surprise some. Though no one had done so yet and if Michael had his way, he'd be a very dead mouse before they did.

 

    Putting his house keys in the fourth right inside pocket of his beige jacket, it might be startling to see a mouse wearing a piece of clothing with over twelve different pockets. Being startled by such a thing would only be an indication of your ignorance towards the older traditions of murine culture. Among the folk who spent their lives in the shade of grass, pockets were akin to oxygen to the older generations at least. It was a very big world out there, if you weren't prepared you were dead. A Jacket that could carry your keys, your wallet, some disinfectant, Pink's Patented Pepperbombs (Guaranteed to leave any mammal with a nose too big for common decency in tears, with a money back guarantee if failed. Refunds only given if the purchaser comes themselves, no, you can't just bring whatever limbs you could, that don't count.),some string, a knife, and a lighter were the bare minimum for any self respecting rodent following their teachings proper.

 

    These types of coats were becoming more and more uncommon on surface level. They weren't fashionable enough for a modern Zootopian trying to compete in the arms race of fancy clothes that the various corporation or celebrities were telling them they needed to be in. Michael wasn't one of them however, he'd never had an eye for fashion but he did have a very strong desire not be caught unprepared ever since the trip back ten years ago. Uncle Culkin's preparations had saved him from being scorpion feed back then, there was no way he was going to end up as it now just for the sake of looking good.

 

    Scorpion feed. Michael could still remember how glib Uncle Culkin had been about the whole thing after the beasts manifold appendages had finally stopped twitching. Hindsight was 20/20 and Michael was sure he'd only been that way to try and calm the boys with him down, since his pants had been hadn't been any dryer than the boys when all was said and done. Still, the fact that he'd made a fire and then sliced bits of the creature off to roast had made him look a bit crazy.

 

    "Don't be so prey about this. You kids helped take down this fucker so you might as well eat it too. It's good. Scorpion's pricy as hell in the city and you'll never get it this fresh."

 

    He'd been right about the quality. That had been the best scorpion Michael had ever eaten. Nothing in Zootopia, Little Rodentia, or Big Rodentia could compare, but Michael resolved himself to pick some up after work for himself. Another form of resolve was needed because now he had to check up on George. Two years Michael's senior, the guy had been the mouse every boy wanted to be and every girl wanted to date. Charming enough to make a snake dance to his tune and quick enough to have it's head lopped off that it still had time to wonder why the earth was suddenly falling up. A lot of what Michael learned could be attributed to his cousin, who'd always had a soft spot for him. Always dragging Michael on any of his escapades and adventures. Causing merriment for himself and all sorts of mischief for others.

 

    "Ah Mike, White's a lucky color. You just gotta assert yourself more. You're capable of far more than you think even if you'd been shrike shiskabab back in the Dark Ages. Don't let them old long toothed fogies get to you with their dumb superstitions"

 

    Those words were the George he remembered. The George he'd felt he could have told anything. Perhaps the only mammal who might have been able to surmount the vanguards of Michael's defense and seen what lay in the deepest darkness of his heart. Then the incident had happened and George wasn't quite George anymore. Which was understandable given what exactly had happened to him. George had become a mouse who never left his house, and while he might have been able to keep a secret, Michael couldn't bear to make him carry any more weight than he already did. George had watched out for him and now it was his turn to watch out for him.

 

    Michael walked up to his cousins door. One Knock. Two second pause. One knock. Two second pause. Three knocks in rapid succession. A Pause and then two more knocks. George wouldn't even answer the door for anyone who didn't know this knock now. Michael had been forced to reroute all mail and deliveries to his house because of it, but it wasn't a problem, even if it did mean Michael ended up opening George's mail by accident sometimes. This had lead to a few interesting situations.

    The door opened a slit and one hazelnut eye glimpsed out from the dark inside.

 

    "Good morning Michael," said George in a voice so quiet you might second guess someone was even talking.

    "Good morning George, how are you feeling today?"

    "'okay."

    "Just okay? Do you need me to pick up anything while I'm at work?"

    "no."

    "I was thinking of getting some scorpion today for dinner. I know it's not as good as what we had with my Uncle Culkin but I've been craving it. Would you like some?"

    "no.......................Thank you though."

    "Okay then George, just make sure to eat something today. I'll see you later."

   

    George had already shut the door before Michael had finished speaking. It wasn't out of rudeness or dislike that he'd done it. It was just how George was now. You'd be lucky to be able to spend even a minute talking with him before he shut himself back in. The doctor's said he just needed time to recover but that'd been a year ago. Michael was certain he'd have to try something new soon but a certain voice in the back of head said that it could wait. There was so much to do and why push George after such a horrible thing happened to him. Michael shouldn't push the poor mouse just to make himself feel better. Besides the current arrangement worked for both of them right? If that suddenly came to end, where would Michael be on those nights when the tender shadows beckoned him too sweetly to resist.

   

    Afraid to admit his own problem, Michael left the two floor apartment complex he shared with George and went to work. Not the work he loved, but the work he did to hide what he loved.

 

*****

 

    The hum and glow of the artificial lights that illuminated Big Rodentia 24 hours a day everyday gently filled the Poppy Boutique. Catlin found that she was once again the first to arrive at the store. With an internal sigh, she worked to unlock the door. Not the easiest thing for a mole given their eyesight, even one with a pair of glasses. Catlin wasn't a quitter though. She was hardy and persistent like a foot rash. You  need to be with a name like Catlin. Life itself had made it clear from the very start it wasn't doing her any favors.

 

    A mole's eyesight was never something to brag about at the best of times. Right after giving birth to 3 beautiful babies her mother would have been lucky to know a left from right. . Catlin didn't blame her mother for her name, since she knew she'd meant to name her Caitlin after her great grandmother. The blame was squarely on the shoulders of the damn nurse who'd brought the three birth certificates all at once not even ten minutes after her Mom had finished. She pulled out a pen and asked her Mother to tell her the names and sign the documents. A mistake like Catlin was understandable given that situation if Aunt Janice's recollection was correct. Being stuck with the nickname Cat Lint throughout school wasn't pleasant but at least  her name was just a simple spelling error.

 

    Diane and Maxwell hadn't been so lucky. Maxwell could at least shorten her name to Maxie to hide it when meeting new people, but there was no saving her brother from Diane. When they were kids they'd vowed that the day they found that nurse was going to be one to remember. Maxwell was currently getting her Nursing license and Diane was learning how to be a private detective. Catlin already had the cards and flower arrangement picked for when either of them found the bastard. They were so sugary sweet and pricey that it'd be absolutely impossible to resist.

   

    It would be a heart moving evening that's for sure. Though where exactly they'd end up burying it hadn't been decided.