So much had happened in December that it was all a blur to Henry
and Juliette. By the time the New Year rolled around, things were
finally returning to a bit more of normal.
Henry returned to work, and continued to tinker with his
inventions. He liked to make little adjustments to the Rat
Deflector to improve its efficiency and effectiveness, and little
by little, he would add just a bit more current to make sure that
the rats would never return. What he didn’t count on was the King
Rat, who thought he could outsmart the device.
One night, about three in the morning, while Henry and Juliette
were sound asleep, King Rat entered the henhouse. King Rat was
huge, a good sixteen inches from the tip of his tail to the tip of
his pink nose. His whiskers spread a span of six inches, and his
deep black color belied the fact that he was merely a rat.
King Rat had watched his brothers die, felt their shrieks as they
succumbed to the Rat Deflector. Sniffed the air to detect the smoky
presence as their hair singed as currents of electricity scoured
the life from their bodies. He even mourned for his cousins the
field mice, as they wandered into parts unknown and never
returned.
But King Rat was clever, he watched the others as they died, but
knew that there were ways to get around this killing machine. While
the other rats merely stumbled onto the circuitry, King Rat noticed
that the source of the danger was the transformer that connected
all of the wires into the deadly grid. He reasoned that attacking
that source would be an end of the device, and a return to the
reign of the rats in the henhouse.
King Rat began to gnaw at the wire that exited the transformer, and
before long had worn away the insulation, revealing the bare wire.
But the wire proved too strong, and King Rat could not chew through
it. King Rat moved on to the next wire, and once again, the
insulation gave way. That was King Rat’s fatal mistake, for when
his body came into contact with the two bare wires, the effect was
immediate. King Rat’s body surged with electricity, and burst into
flames.
But King Rat was a fighter, and he still had a bit of life in him
as he streaked away from the transformer and into the chicken coop.
Loose straw was everywhere, and as he moved through it, it too
sparked into flame.
The fire spread quickly though the chicken coop, and soon the
entire building was up in flames. Chickens were screeching, and as
the fire snuffed out their lives, an eerie quiet began to pervade
the area. The only sound was the crackling of timber and finally
the huge explosion of the roof collapse that finally stirred the
residents of the home next door, Henry and Juliette.
As they rushed outside, Greta passed them and ran into what
remained of the burning building. Henry frantically called for
Greta to return, but she was on a mission, to rescue her chicken
friends, should they still be alive. Greta bit into one of the
cages that had fallen to the ground and had somehow escaped the
flames. She dragged the cage, braving the heat, and succeeded in
bringing it out. But not without cost: her leg was badly burned,
and she collapsed onto the ground, as she could not support her
weight on it.
Henry rushed to Greta’s side and lifted her, the heat licking at
his own face as she valiantly licked it as well, to cool it off for
him. She was weak, but she made it, with Henry’s help.
When the fire department finally arrived, the complete structure
was a total loss, but the firemen kept the flames from reaching the
Mall’s house.
“You folks are lucky to be alive,” the fire chief offered.
“We are,” Juliette responded, still shaking and clutching onto
Henry, “but Greta is not doing so well,” as she indicated the
heroic dog lying at their feet.
The chief noted the burns, and retrieved his first aid kit from the
truck. He cleaned the wound, and wrapped it with gauze tape.
“You’d better get her over to the vet first thing in the morning.
He may be able to save that leg.”
“We will,” Henry replied. “She’s one special lady.”
Greta’s injury had distracted Henry from the fire for a bit, but
the hard reality was this: Henry was out of a job. The focus of the
egg industry was moving elsewhere, and the owners were unlikely to
attempt to rebuild and restart the business.
Henry still had a small income from his inventions, but it wasn’t
enough to make a living, it was more of a successful hobby. As the
sun began to rise on this disastrous day, Henry began thinking of
his options.
At 9 A.M., Henry entered the grocery store and asked for the
manager. Because Juliette was a former employee, Henry felt that he
might have a chance at getting a job. Unfortunately, all positions
were filled, and although the manager was sympathetic, it just
wasn’t possible at this time to give Henry a job.
Henry went back home, his head hung, and Greta whimpered when he
entered the door. Looking up at the clock, Henry saw that it was
nearly 10 o’clock, and the veterinarian would be opening his office
soon. He picked up Greta and put her in the bed of his pickup and
headed back into town.
Dr. Jonas greeted Henry and looked with concern at Greta and her
bandaged leg. Word had reached him about the fire, but he wasn’t
aware that there had been injuries beyond the death of several
hundred chickens.
He was impressed by the professional wrapping of the wound and
commended Henry on it.
“Oh, no, I didn’t do that!” Henry was flustered. “The fire chief
cleaned and dressed it himself.”
“Then it’s a good thing he was there, because she’s going to be
just fine,” Dr. Jonas replied. “I’ll apply some medicine to make
sure it doesn’t get infected and you can be sure to keep her leg
clean for a few weeks.”
“Well, I’m sure I‘ll have plenty of time to do that. My job is
gone.”
The vet agreed and suggested “Perhaps something new will come
up.”
“Perhaps so, but I’m worried,” Henry mulled. “With a new baby and
all, I really need a job. I know chickens, and that is going
nowhere right now. What’ll I do?”
When the vet was finished with Greta, Henry let her walk out on her
own, and though she favored her leg a bit, her tail was wagging and
her eyes were bright as she looked up at Henry. It lifted his
spirits, and he wore a hint of a smile on his lips.
As he left the vet’s office, Henry saw Sam Martin coming out of the
hardware store next door. Sam was recently a new father as well,
and they had shared some camaraderie during their wives’
pregnancies. Sam’s son, Osgood, was born premature, and had been
lucky to survive. Even though he was a couple of months older than
I, I had grown much faster and appeared to be the older one.
“Hi, Henry! What’s new?” offered Sam, making some small talk.
“You haven’t heard? The hatchery burned down last night,” Henry
stated.
“Oh, that’s rough,” Sam sympathized. “I heard sirens but didn’t
know.
“I’m out of a job, and I don’t know what to do,” Henry
confessed.
“I heard the Scuffling Scrappers were looking for some help,
perhaps that’s something that could tide you over until something
else comes along,” offered Sam.
“Oh, I don’t play anymore since the accident,” as he held up his
hand. “There’s not much I can do for them.”
“They’re not looking for a musician, though I’ll bet they would
take you back if they were. They’re looking for someone to handle
their business affairs. They’re about to record an album, and may
even go on tour soon,” Sam revealed.
Henry thought a minute then said, “That sounds like something I’d
like to do. I’ll stop by the Stomping Grounds this evening.”
Henry thanked Sam and let Greta jump into the cab. His mood was
significantly happier as he made the short drive back home.