Peter Krupa

(Previously: Epilogue)

The rat was sitting there on our pile of dirty dishes, hunched over, nibbling leftover tidbits of fish and rice. Cheeky wouldn’t be the word, because I don’t think the rat was particularly trying to insult me. He was just eating.

“Fucking…”

I picked up a clubbed object and walked over to the sink, not trying to be sneaky. He knew I was there, I just wanted to see what his plan was. The rat didn’t move much, but he did slip behind a tea cup - not like he was running away, but just to make sure I didn’t have a good shot. Then he kind of climbed under the dish rack, hopped onto the stove, and disappeared into one of the burners.

One by one, I clicked on the burners. He really was good. And possibly cheeky. I saw a flash of grey as he slipped down an electrical cord and behind the refrigerator.

Rat: 1. Me: 0.

I walked out of the kitchen, stroking my chin. I have this idea that catching a rat is a thinkin’ man’s job. He knows I’m here, and I know he’s there, and the important thing is, who holds what cards? I thought about it, then started poking around.

I found two of his cards right away. The hole next to the radiator pipe is one of his ways in and out. Meanwhile, in a corner behind our couch is another hole, chewed in the carpet. In a pinch, I could block the holes, thereby cutting off his escape, then flail around the apartment in a rage until I found and crushed his little body.

That would be one way to do it. My gaze fell on the traps I had dropped on a chair. Perhaps better to start there. When I was a kid, my dad always baited mouse traps with peanut butter, both because it had a strong smell and because the mouse couldn’t pick it up and run off – it had to lick it off, nuzzling the trap little by little by little until WHAP!

I baited the two mouse traps with peanut butter and placed one by the radiator pipe in the bathroom and one behind the refrigerator. I went a more traditional route with the rat trap, baiting it with cheddar, then placed it (safely) behind the couch.

Then we waited.

We were watching a movie when the trap behind the refrigerator went off. I dashed over to take a peek. Could it be this easy? No, it couldn’t. The trap was sprung, but the peanut butter was still there, and there was no little furry body. The rat must have brushed it when he walked by.

So I learned a little more about his route. But the rat learned that I was setting traps.