A Ratpacker's Call to Cheese By Libby S. Singleton Fifteen pages of a script to memorize, a story to write, laundry to do, cats to pet, litter boxes to change, a biscuit for the dog, and all the usual chaos of Libby's life came to an end when the rat crawled out from the closet, a note tied around its neck. She recognized the scribbling, it was Screed's handwriting. War. "YEEEHHHAAAA!" she screamed, bouncing around her house gathering up all she'd need to take. She logged on long enough to e-mail her father to take care of her pets for a couple of weeks and to read an e-mail from Johnsie. "The droog got 'is call ta h'arms, ew," she said to the cats. "Gotta 'it the road. Time's h'a wastin'! There's choccy n' grilled cheese tew be 'ad!" She rushed outside to drag the large piece of plyboard from the storm cellar. She rushed across the street to take the wheels from her neighbor's kids' wagons and other wheeled toys, then borrowed their garage to attach the 15 wheels to the wood. It took her only moments to load all her gear on the contraption. A long, high pitched whistled brought rats running out from under the houses, from the park, and even from the courthouse a half mile away. She started connecting them to her 'wagon' using shoelaces, DMC needlework floss, and bits and pieces of this and that. "Wait h'a sec," she said to one of the critters. "Ya h'ain't no ratsie! Yar a possum. H'ain't the same thing.... Do na' lewk h'at me loik tha'... Stop! Cease n' desistation! I don't care, ya h'ain't no ratsie..." She let out a long sigh. "H'okay, Sebastian Virgil O'Possum O'Third, yew kin come. Jest make loik a ratsie, h'okay, dokey?" Sebastian opened his mouth, letting out a Possum hiss in agreement. Libby jumped on the wagon, and with a crack of a long thin limb from her Maple tree, to her team gave a whistle. "On Crasher, on Rashes, on Blotter, an' Nixon, on Blaster, on Flasher, on Possum named Sebastian! Dash tew Johnsie, dash tew Johnsie, move your ratsie h'as... Oi mean backsides!" She was almost to Toronto (ratsies travel very fast when there's a Possum in their mix) when she saw Johnsie coming towards her. He had two large rats tied under both his feet like roller skates. Libs had been pickin' up stray Ratpackers all along the way, and signaled them to move over on the 'wagon.' "'Old yar 'orses, or ratsies, Libs!" he called. "Me super-sized- super-strength ratsies are gettin' a bit tired." Libby slowed the ratsie team a lil' and Johnsie landed on the 'wagon.' There were a few moment of happy dancin' and huggies and all that nonsense before Libby said, "H'it's war, h'it is! Kin't wait wot tew get to Screed's place. This mod o' travelin' almost beats gas powered mooses, ya know." "Tha's the fact o' h'it, fer sure fire. Did the droog tell ya why we're bein' summoned an' hummed?" Johnsie asked. "Nope, jest tha' there may be choccy fer us, an' grilled cheese on rye, an' 'oney sticks, an' no tellin' wot sort o' shiny pretties tew be 'ad." Johnsie, Libby, and all the wee lil' ratsies and Ratpackers tally- hoed on right into Canada after convincing the border guards the ratsies and Sebastian the possum were all a figment of their overworked imagination. After all, who wouldn't think they were seeing things at such a sight? They worked their way up to Toronto, through the arts district, and turned into the alley where Screed resides. Being early morning and the sun coming up, Screed wasn't outside to greet them, but Tessa was. She started hopping up and down. "Libs! Johnsie!" "Tessa" the Ratpack uncommanders said, hopping up and down. "Libs! Johnsie!" "Tessa!" All the other Ratpackers started jumping up and down on the 'wagon.' "Libs! Johnsie!" "Tessa!" All the lil' ratsies started jumping up and down in their harnesses. "Libs! Johnsie!" "Tessa!" Sebastian O'Possum O'Third did want every self respecting possum would do under the circumstances. He raised a hand to show off his lil' possum toes and said, "Hiiiisssssssss." "SHUT H'UP OUT THERE," Screed yelled from the safety of his abode. "Kin't a droog get some shut eye wit'out all tha' hissin' noise? ... Wait a secomondo, is tha' me Ratpack I 'ear out there?" "Yep!" Libby, Johnsie, and Tessa yelled. "We got your note o' war," Johnsie explained. The Ratpack, ratsies, wagon, and one possum all squeezed through Screed's door into his place. "Tha's one un-hap-e-teazin' lewking squealer," Screed said, looking at Sebastian. "Tha's Sebastian, a possum," Libs said. "This h'is war," Johnsie added. "Inny-thingee h'is possum- ble," "...H'in h'its h'own way...." Libby and the rest of the gathered Ratpackers sang, happy to be tew-gathered again. -end-