Techie Rat, Worker Rat
On a stump of wood with a checkered tablecloth spread across, Worker Rat had lovingly prepared a feast of the junkiest treats: stale hot chips, discarded burger bits, a diverse array of gummy-shaped candy, and all the energy drinks he could fit into a tiny Barbie-branded tea kettle. Outside that decaying car manufacturing plant, next to a desolate basketball court that hadn't seen use in years, Worker Rat hosted Techie Rat for lunch.
After a nice refreshing gulp from his teacup, he set it down on the remains of that decapitated tree, smiling inquisitively, searching for positive feedback that was not immediately there. Techie Rat sat across from his cousin, unimpressed, wearing a grumpy look on his elongated face.
"Mmm," Worker Rat moaned with a thick southern drawl, "sure is tasty, isn't it?"
"Worker Rat, is this how you live your life?" Techie Rat was not impressed, his face barely concealing his disgust.
"Sure do. Don't you like it?"
Techie Rat politely shrugged.
Though he didn't wish to show it, the cold reaction was a deep blow to Worker Rat's exhaustive efforts. For weeks, anticipating the arrival of his beloved cousin, Worker Rat had scoured through every corner of the facility where he lived, diligently and stealthily crawling from one worker's lunch bag into the next, scurrying through any locker he could fit his way into, and making a dash for it whenever an employee left their lunchbox out in open view of the break room. He had carefully collected the pieces to the perfect meal, and at last, he had scavenged enough to produce a small but proud meal for Techie Rat. Or so he thought.
Techie Rat's whiskers bristled with a jolt of disgruntled energy. It was the same look of disgust he gave when he encountered excrement on the street, a frequent sight during his commute back to the city.
"I suppose this is the best I can expect, you living in a food desert and all."
"Ain't no desert around here. It's snow-packed mountains as far as the eye can see."
"Not a literal desert, of course; it's a figure of speech. They teach you about those in school, don't they? It means you're not within proximity to fresh, quality ingredients. That's just geography. No fault of yours, of course."
"If you want better ingredients, we can always go dumpster diving at Papa John's."
Techie Rat made an expression that could only be interpreted as quietly saying: how uncivilized. "My point exactly," he said out loud.
Techie Rat spent the whole afternoon turning his pink snout up at that plate of working-class food.
"Listen, no offense, but I have a very particular diet that my body is used to, alright? How else do you think I achieved this rocking physique?" Techie Rat lifted his miniature Patagonia vest to reveal the washboard abs lying underneath. This furry, chiseled chest on his rodent anatomy was obsessively achieved through a carefully watched diet and many days lifting heavy things.
"Impressive, nice work! Me, I'm fine just carrying this steel drum around." Worker Rat gave a few resonant tumbles on the jiggly belly protruding from his little denim overalls.
After lunch, Techie Rat and Worker Rat took a leisurely stroll by a deserted creek.
"This place used to be filled with all sorts of pretty things when we were kids, don't you remember? All the fishies and the frogs?" Worker Rat was curious if his cousin could recall how close they used to be.
"Vaguely."
"They were good solid folks, real salt of the earth, but I haven't seen them around since these factories started dumping their waste here. How rude. It's a real shame." Worker Rat grew quiet for a good long while.
The extended period of silence grew too uncomfortable for Techie Rat's overstimulated, fast-working mind. "You ever thought about moving to the city? Get away from all this..." he couldn't find the right word to use that wasn't entirely disparaging and disrespectful. "You're such a smart rat. Why waste it slumming with all these bumpkins?"
"I quite like it here with these bumpkins, for your information. I've heard what you city folks are like; it wouldn't be a good fit for a rat of my variety."
"Nonsense, with me on your side, there's no limit to what you can do. I could put in a good word for you at the firm, get you a nice swanky internship, and let you work up the ranks. Hmm? You never know what could happen. Heck of a lot cushier than just barely surviving out here."
"Cous, I don't know. Aren't y'all infested with all sorts of bone-crushing robot cars and glue traps galore out there?"
"Oh, that's overblown. Don't believe what you watch in the news. City life is what it's all about. It's a hell of a lot nicer there than over here, that's for sure. We got street cleaning, crosswalk signs, and food? Don't even get me started. Over there, you'll never have to go hungry. Not for a single day. Let me show you." Techie Rat pulled out his phone and showed him some pictures from his socials, showing photos of his privileged life back in the coastal zone, where he lived in a community of animal friends all enjoying their drinks on rooftop parties full of plentiful hor d'oeuvres and dangling Edison bulbs.
"See how much stuff is over there?"
"Yeah," Worker Rat replied, "I wonder where y'all get it from."
Techie Rat went on and on, extolling the virtues of city life. But what Techie Rat failed to recognize, but Worker Rat could clearly see, was that all this fantasy world he lived in was a bubble. To Techie Rat's beady, unsophisticated eyes, everything was fine and dandy back home, just as it should be. There were plentiful resources and endless opportunities, with luxurious food falling from the sky from that elegant apartment he sheltered. It didn't click for him that although he had all his material needs plainly met, the communities that supplied this luxury, a community not unlike the one he was standing in right now, was teetering on the edge of collapse.
Months after their reunion, Worker Rat, much as he resented the idea, knew there was little left for him in this small town. The place was getting sadder. The workers were slowly being let go in waves as the car plant seemed to produce less inventory per week. Food was getting more scarce as income flowed less through the towns, and as much as he fought against it, Worker Rat decided to follow his cousin's advice and made the voyage over to Techie Rat's neighborhood. He rode a few days on a freight train between bales of hay, snacking on apple cores he had stuffed into a tiny basket.
When he finally arrived at the cargo bay where all the shipment boxes deployed, Techie Rat arrived and escorted him in his remote-controlled car.
"Sweet ride, cous."
"Isn't she a beaut? All electric runs on double A batteries. This is the future, baby; welcome to it!"
Upon arrival, Worker Rat was overwhelmed by the immense scale of everything he looked upon. There were fast-swooping cars, loud, disorienting cop sirens, and feral cats visible from one rooftop to the next.
"Sure is different out here," Worker Rat exclaimed as he observed the massive skyscrapers and strangely dressed human inhabitants.
When that little car entered Techie Rat's glitzy neighborhood, Worker Rat admired the posh surroundings. Techie Rat lived stealthily in an apartment building full of well-salaried engineers, programmers, and business consultants in a street overlooking sloped hills and sleepy groves. Techie Rat gave Worker Rat a tour of a pantry full of the most expensive and exclusive foods. In a swanky loft, he approached the owner's refrigerator. "This is where my host keeps his food fresh."
"I know what a refrigerator does."
"My apologies, but just look-- The guy who lives here gets all the best stuff from the gourmet grocery store across the street. Look at all this-- organic chicken, almond milk, and so much cold brew."
Worker Rat looked out the window; he couldn't help but notice a large, brightly-colored tent surrounding one of the houses.
"What's going on over there?" asked Worker Rat.
"They're fumagating."
"Few mah what?"
"Oh, you don't know about that? Yes, well, they're cleaning off the pests, filling the house with toxic air so they'll all suffocate and die."
"That's crazy," cried Worker Rat. "how can you stand that?"
"Hey, as long as it ain't happening to us, right? Plus, it helps keep the rent down."
Worker Rat couldn't believe what he was hearing.
The Techie Rat shrugged, "Poor fellas, I know, but at least I have something these other dopey rats don't.
"And what's that?"
"For one, I can read. And I understand the human language very, very well. One of the perks of being educated in a prestigious lab. You know, my professor was the renowned Algernon."
"Never heard of the rat."
"Of course, you haven't," Techie Rat sneered.
"You know you're pretty condescending. You were a lot more fun when we were kids."
"Wow, that's a pretty big word. Where did you learn it?"
Worker Rat frowned.
"I'm just playing with ya, cousin. I know you're a smarty pants at heart. Lighten up, will ya? Listen, I've got some friends from work who have invited me to dinner at their place; wanna come?"
Country Rat and Techie Rat walked a few blocks to a tranquil gated garden where a lonely old woman of fading wealth ostensibly lived in a large adjacent home.
It was neatly landscaped with fountains made of richly textured rocks and pathways of smoothly finished cobblestone. Certain small trees were lined with eye-catching street lights, which provided the yard a warm, cozying glow.
"Hmm," Techie Rat muttered, "I don't see them anywhere. Let me go check out back. You stay here." Techie Rat wandered off in another direction. Worker Rat stayed and sat quietly on a stool shaped like a naughty, smiling gargoyle. He twiddled his pink nubby thumbs, patiently waiting for his cousin, or their host, to arrive. It was quiet, deathly quiet, and after a while, he grew a bit impatient. Worker Rat got up and decided to examine the lush vegetation more closely. There were vibrant gardenias and fragrant orchids. As he went about, he heard the abrupt sound of leaves crunching nearby. His head tilted in the direction, and before he knew it, two large cats were marching in his direction.
"Hello, stranger," said the orange cat with a top hat on its head.
"Are you with Techie?" said the grey cat with a bowtie around its neck.
Worker Rat hollered and screamed, his survival instincts sharply into flight mode. "Help! Techie! Help!! There are cats in the garden! Run for your life!" In the blindness brought on by his unbridled fear, Worker Rat crashed into a garden gnome, tripping and falling starkly into the soil.
Techie Rat ran back to the sound of his cries. The two cats carefully approached.
"There you guys are," Techie Rat greeted the cats, "is everything alright?"
Techie Rat and the cats looked down at Worker Rat. He was briefly knocked out by the sudden impact of the fantasy character ornament. As he slowly regained composure, he glimpsed the cats looking down at him and their gaping mouths, fangs fully exposed. "They're still here. Go away! Go away!
"Worker, relax. It's fine. These are my friends, Milo." Techie Rat gestured at the orange cat. Milo waved back. "And this here is Boots," he gestured towards the grey cat.
"Hi," waved Boots with a shy disposition.
"Stand back, cousin, I got this." And that's when, getting back on his feet with the help of his determined tail, Worker Rat reached into the pocket of his overalls and pulled out a large gat, aimed at the cats, ready to fire.
The cats screeched in terror.
"Stop!" cried Techie Rat before snatching the gun from his cousin's hand. "They're friendly cats."
"Friendly," said Worker Rat incredulously, "these cats?"
"Oh, he really is from the country, isn't he?" said Milo, breathing heavily after the initial shock.
"We're co-workers," Techie Rat desperately tried to explain.
"Yes, we get along great, don't we?" said Milo.
"And who's this other cat?" asked Worker Rat, slowly putting his gun back away.
"That's his partner."
Worker Rat's ears perked up, and a confused look was on his face. "Partner? Like... in crime?"
Boots interjected: "I'm his boyfriend."
"But you're a boy too, ain't you?"
"Yes, that's true. We're--"
"--Cats. I get it. I'm fine with y'all being cats, ok? Just promise not to eat me, ok?"
"We weren't planning on eating you, silly," Milo laughed.
"You're not really our type," added Boots.
"Worker," Techie Rat said, "these two are vegans."
"So, where do you get all your nutrients from?"
"Vitamin supplements keep us strong and healthy like lions."
"Like from a factory and such? Can I ask you something? What happens when they stop making those?"
"Stop making what?" asked Milo.
"The vitamins and supplements. What will you do to survive? Will you start eating us then?"
"I don't understand your obsession with us eating you. You're not that appetizing! And why would they stop making vitamins, anyhow??"
"Never mind."
It was a lot of things for this folksy Worker Rat to take in at once. Once the initial shock of it all wore off, and they were well into their dinner around the patio, Worker Rat gradually got a little more comfortable around them.
"Well, fellas, I have to admit, you sure know how to prepare a fanciful feast." Worker Rat tapped his flabby belly to show how full he was. "And you're some fine gentlemen."
Milo grinned. "It was interesting to hear what country life is like. Have you considered moving in with your cousin?"
The second time hearing this question gave Worker Rat a lot to think about. They spent the whole rest of that evening laughing and chatting with those two cats, and the entire time, he thought- this is pretty nice. It's comfortable. It's pleasant and friendly. Everyone seems so happy and relaxed. Ultimately, Worker Rat understood that this was not the place for him. He could never truly fit in.
After the dinner was over, he went back home with his cousin and stayed up the whole night thinking. After a few days of getting a tour of the city with Techie Rat, he decided to leave back home. They hugged one last time and bid each other farewell.
"Come back soon, ok, Worker?"
Worker Rat smiled at Techie Rat. "I will. You bet on that."
As he rode back on the freight leading into the country, it would be several days before he found out his beloved cousin had been run over by a robot vacuum cleaner that the loft owner had recently installed to clean up the place.