The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents

“What's the name of the town, kid?” Maurice said, sitting on a rock and looking down at the town. Behind them, the rats were counting the money again, stacking it in piles beside its leather bag. They did this every day. Even though he had no pockets, there was something about Maurice that made everyone want to check their change as often as possible.

“'S called Bad Blintz,” said the kid, referring to the guide-book.

“Ahem… should we be going there, if it's bad?” said Peaches, looking up from the counting.

“Hah, it's not called Bad because it's bad,” said Maurice. “That's foreign language for bath, see?”

“So it's really called Bath Blintz?” said Donut Enter.

“Nah, nah, they call it Bath because…” The Amazing Maurice hesitated, but only for a moment, “because they got a bath, see? Very backward place, this. Not many baths around. But they've got one, and they're very proud of it, so they want everyone to know. You prob'ly have to buy tickets even to have a look at it.”

“Is that true, Maurice?” said Dangerous Beans. He asked the question quite politely, but it was clear that what he was really saying was “I don't think that is true, Maurice.”

Ah, yes… Dangerous Beans. Dangerous Beans was difficult to deal with. Really, he shouldn't be. Back in the old days, Maurice thought, he wouldn't even have eaten a rat so small and pale and generally ill-looking. He stared down at the little albino rat, with his snow-white fur and pinky eyes. Dangerous Beans did not stare back, because he was too short-sighted. Of course, being nearly blind was not too much of a drawback to a species that spent most of its time in the darkness and had a sense of smell that was, as far as Maurice could understand it, almost as good as sight and sound and speech all put together. For example, the rat always turned to face Maurice and looked directly at him when he spoke. It was uncanny. Maurice had known a blind cat that walked into doors a lot, but Dangerous Beans never did that.

Dangerous Beans wasn't the head rat. That was Hamnpork's job. Hamnpork was big and fierce and a bit scabby, and he didn't much like having a new-fangled brain and he certainly didn't like talking to a cat. He'd been quite old when the rats had Changed, as they called it, and he said he was too old to change. He left talking-to-Maurice to Dangerous Beans, who'd been born just after the Change. And that little rat was clever. Incredibly clever. Too clever. Maurice needed all his tricks when he was dealing with Dangerous Beans.

“It's amazing, the stuff I know,” said Maurice, blinking slowly at him. “Anyway, it's a nice-looking town. Looks rich to me. Now, what we'll do is—”

“Ahem…”

Maurice hated that sound. If there was a sound worse than Dangerous Beans asking one of his odd little questions, it was Peaches clearing her throat. It meant she was going to say something, very quietly, which was going to upset him.

“Yes?” he said sharply.

“Do we really need to keep on doing this?” she said.

“Well, of course, no,” said Maurice. “I don't have to be here at all. I'm a cat, right? A cat with my talents? Hah! I could've got myself a really cushy job with a conjurer. Or a ventrilosqwist, maybe. There's no end to the things I could be doing, right, 'cos people like cats. But, owing to being incredibly, you know, stupid and kind-hearted, I decided to help a bunch of rodents who are, and let's be frank here, not exactly number one favourites with humans. Now some of you,” and here he cast a yellow eye towards Dangerous Beans, “have some idea of going to some island somewhere and starting up a kind of rat civilization of your very own, which I think is very, you know, admirable, but for that you need… what did I tell you that you need?”

“Money, Maurice,” said Dangerous Beans, “but—”

“Money. That's right, 'cos what can you get with money?” He looked around at the rats. “Begins with a B,” he prompted.

“Boats, Maurice, but—”

“And then there's all the tools you'll need, and food, of course—”

“There's coconuts,” said the stupid-looking kid, who was polishing his flute.

“Oh, did someone speak?” said Maurice. “What do you know about it, kid?”

“You get coconuts,” said the kid. “On desert islands. A man selling them told me.”

“How?” said Maurice. He wasn't too sure about coconuts.

“I don't know. You just get them.”

“Oh, I suppose they just grow on trees, do they?” said Maurice sarcastically. “Sheesh, I just don't know what you lot would do without… anyone?” He glared at the group. “Begins with an M.”

“You, Maurice,” said Dangerous Beans. “But, you see, what we think is, really—”

“Yes?” said Maurice,

“Ahem,” said Peaches. Maurice groaned. “What Dangerous Beans means,” said the female rat, “is that all this stealing grains and cheese and gnawing holes in walls is, well…” She looked up into Maurice's yellow eyes. “Is not morally right.”

“But it's what rats do!” said Maurice.