"Brian Plante - Papa Rat" - читать интересную книгу автора (Plante Brian)

cabinet under the sink, squirted some onto his bleeding wrist, and lathered it up under the running water.
The owner of the co-op was out, as was usual when the exterminators were nuking smart rats, so he
explored a few cabinets until he found some Band-Aids.

"You know," said Billy, "you probably should see a doctor about that. It might have had rabies."

"It damn well better not. I can't afford to go to no doctor right now," Dennis said, applying the Band-Aid.
"Corva and I have been going bareback on insurance the last couple of years. It's just too expensive."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I went without medical all last year," said Billy. "But rabies is nothing to
mess around with."

Dennis looked at the rat on the floor, still lying there crumpled against the baseboard. Taking a closer
look, Dennis could see that the rat was still alive, its little chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths.

"Tell you what, Billy. I'll just hold onto this rat for a while. If it shows any signs of being sick, then I'll go
to the doctor."

"It's your life, man."

Dennis went back to one of the cabinets he had opened earlier and grabbed a large Tupperware salad
bowl with a blue lid. He scooped up the dazed rat and put it in the bowl. With his utility knife, he cut a
few air holes in the lid.

"Papa Rat, you're coming with me," he said as he sealed up the bowl.

"Come on," Billy said, "lets close up this wall and get out of here."

***

Dennis bartered some future services for a battered old bird cage from a pet store on the East Side and
brought it home to his dingy apartment. Corva watched in horror as he set the cage up on the living room
coffee table and removed Papa Rat from the Tupperware bowl.

"What is that!" she shrieked. "Just what do you think you're doing with a rat in my home? Not even a pet
rat, but an ugly street rat?"

"This rat bit me," Dennis said sternly. "I gotta watch it to make sure it don't have rabies. I'll go see the
doctor if it does."

Dennis was expecting more of a protest, but Corva just said, "Oh," and exited the room. Dennis was
thankful that he didn't have to argue the point about not having enough money for doctors right now.
Corva knew how things were.

In the bird cage, the rat began moving about, balancing on the wires in the cage floor. Dennis watched as
it systematically inspected each joint in the metal, looking for a weak spot. The clasp holding the cage
door shut looked flimsy to Dennis, and he had no doubt that a smart rat would be able to figure it out
before very long. He got out his soldering iron and melted some metal onto the clasp to make sure. The
rat backed up into the far corner of the cage and wriggled his nose at the acrid fumes from the smoking
solder. Smart or not, the rat was welded into the cage for good.