"Well.goodness me." mr. graze sighed. I guess we'll just have to rope in somebody else when we get there."
"I guess you will," Ruth murmured.
Luck was on Ruth's side for once. Her parents and brothers were in such a hurry to get away, they didn't bother calling Lou's parents to check her story.
She stood on the front path to watch them leave, and once the car disappeared around the corner a wave of pure relief broke over her. Yes. She was free for a whole day!
There would be no shouting brothers, no raucous sports shows on television, no radio replays of boring football matches! No parental voices bossing everyone around. No loud explosive burps or unexpected farts followed by hoots of ridiculous laughter.
She finished the washing-up, wiped down the benches, and swept the floor. Then she got the washing in from the line because it looked like it might rain. The whole day was in front of her. It was only a matter of deciding what to do with it. First things first; breakfast had been ruined earlier, so…she would make herself a little feast.
Ruth piled her six slices of peanut-buttered toast with jam onto a plate, then poured herself some milk with loads of chocolate syrup, and took it all into the front room. This was by far the best room of the house. It was lighter and bigger than the others, and although most of the furniture was worn, there were a few nice things that had belonged to Mary Ellen-the big shiny wooden table with matching chairs, the deep blue leather lounge suite, and the antique sideboard. Ruth loved her aunt's stuff even though it didn't go with the other battered bits and pieces. Actually, she loved it because it didn't fit in. Ruth put her plate and glass down carefully on the table and went to turn on the heater.
There was a collection of family photos on the wall above the sideboard. Some were properly framed and others were simply pinned or taped to the peeling wallpaper. Ruth sat, eating her food and looking at them. There was a big schmaltzy one of her parents looking into each other's eyes on their wedding day.
They were both vaguely normal-looking in the photo. How things change, Ruth thought. Then there was a formal family portrait of the five of them together: Mum and Dad, Marcus, herself, and Paul as a baby. There were a few smaller ones of grandparents and Ruth's mother with her two sisters when they were young. Even at thirteen, Mary Ellen looked by far the most interesting of the sisters.
Most of the photos were recent, though. Marcus holding up the bike trophy he'd won the year before. The next was one of Marcus with Paul on his shoulders at the beach, both of them grinning wildly. Ruth was in the background staring with admiration at them. She could remember that day. It was weird now to consider how she used to think that Marcus was wonderful and Paul utterly cute.
Then there was a collection of Paul shots: looking sweet playing in the sandpit at kindergarten; another taken on the first day of school. All in all, there were at least a dozen family snaps featured on the wall, but only one of Ruth by herself. It was a small black-and-white photo at the edge of the collection.
She got up, took the photograph off the wall, and lay down on the floor in front of the heater, staring hard at herself. She liked this photo. The confident, easy way she was staring into the camera reminded her that things hadn't always been so bad. Someone, she couldn't remember who, had caught her standing against the back fence, squinting into the camera. Rodney was poking out from under her arm as if he knew what was going on and didn't particularly approve. Ruth smiled. Rodney had often looked like that. Annoyed and disapproving.
The words Ruth and Rod were written in pencil underneath the photo, with one of her mother's big exclamation marks at the end. Ruth sighed heavily. Trust her mother to get his name wrong. Rodney was never Rod! Never in a million years.
Ruth remembered so clearly the day that she'd brought Rodney home. While Mary Ellen chatted with her mum in the kitchen, Ruth had slipped past them, past her little brother practicing handstands, and up to her room.
The rat was lying right at the bottom of her backpack under her night things. She didn't want to risk Marcus or Paul or even her parents catching sight of him until she had a chance to at least get a feel for him in her room.
Ruth shut her bedroom door behind her and looked around. Where would be the best place? She unpacked her pajamas and toothbrush, her spare undies and her books. She pulled Rodney out of her bag, marveling at him all over again. She loved his sharp little claws, long pointed nose, and spiky fur. On her bed seemed wrong somehow. What about on the little rickety table near her bed? But there was hardly room for her lamp and her book. No room for a large rat. There was the bottom drawer of the dresser. She could pull him out whenever she wanted to play. But that didn't feel right, either. Putting him away wouldn't do. He was no ordinary toy.
In the end, she put him on top of the bookshelf, next to a pretty vase that Mary Ellen had given her the year before. He looked comfortable sitting there with his tail hanging over the edge.
She sat on her bed and stared up. He looked so wise and humorous. It was going to be such fun waking up every morning and having him up there peering down at her. She lay back with her hands behind her head and wriggled her toes with pleasure. He looked as if he'd been there forever.
"Ruth!"
"Coming."
Ruth smiled at the rat and gave a wave as she went out the door. She had the odd feeling that he inclined his head as she walked out, but she knew that she was most probably imagining things.
For the rest of the day, Ruth had felt a rush of happiness whenever she thought of the rat waiting for her in her room. And that feeling continued into the next day and then the next. She felt truly and utterly lucky.
Even when Mary Ellen had gotten so desperately sick, Ruth knew that it was just a matter of time before she got better. Miracles happened all the time, didn't they? There were a million stories on television about people beating cancer. Those pessimistic doctors didn't know what they were talking about. That was why Rodney was there. He was special and he would bring them luck.
For the most part, Rodney stayed in her room. He was the first thing Ruth saw every morning when she woke up and the last before switching off the light at night. She took to telling him about her day as she got into bed. He didn't talk back to her in any formal sense, but it didn't matter because she was almost sure that his expression changed. Sometimes he was amused, at other times angry and disapproving; occasionally she could have sworn he was totally bored by her! They had an understanding that if she went somewhere interesting, she would take him with her in the bottom of her bag.
Meanwhile, Mary Ellen got sicker and sicker and sicker.
Ruth got up from where she'd been lying on the floor and tried to shake off the sadness as she put the photo back on the wall and picked up her cup and plate. Rodney was gone now. The way she'd lost him still rankled. Better to just accept the facts, her parents had told her. Other wonderful things will come into your life, Ruthie, just you wait and see! But what did they know? Not so long after she'd lost the rat, Mary Ellen had died, and then only a few weeks later she'd lost all her friends in one fell swoop.
Not only that, but her former best friend Lou spread around so many stories about her at school that no one else wanted to be friends with her, either. So what wonderful things had come into her life to replace all that she had lost? Absolutely zilch! She was nearly twelve and her life was emptying out, not filling up.
Ruth ran up to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She had a free day in front of her and she didn't want to waste it being miserable. She rinsed out her mouth and straightened up and looked at herself in the mirror; she was still tall and skinny and plain. Too bad! She decided then and there that she had to do something completely out of the ordinary. Something wild and dramatic that she would remember all her life, the way people did in books. If only she could think what exactly.
She toyed with the idea of heading into the city. If she stacked on the makeup and found some different clothes, she might just pass for fifteen and be able to get into an R-rated movie. Afterward, she could sit in a café and wait for someone exciting to come along and talk to her. That had happened to her aunt once when she was in Paris.
Ruth closed the bathroom door behind her, wishing she were in Paris and that her mother had some fashion sense so she could rifle through her clothes.
Just then, the front doorbell rang. Strange! It was still very early. Who would be calling at eight o'clock in the morning?
