FrankenRat - A love story (standard:romance, 3594 words)
Author: hvysmker	Added: Dec 30 2004	Views/Reads: 3392/2272	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Even a mostly mechanical rat has a chance of finding love.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


To another rat he looked sort of strange, a little lumpy and large by
rat standards.  His eyeballs were red and glowed in the dark since they 
were really light emitting diodes.  Frankie's claws were long, 
retractable, and made of steel.  His back legs were sturdier and 
contained hidden springs that could let him leap eight or ten feet at a 
time.  Those traits and an analytic sense of smell and hearing, made 
him more than your average Rat. 

On the downside, Frankie could rust, where your average rat didn't, he
needed oiling or he would squeak when he walked, and he couldn't 
squeeze his mostly metal body into holes a normal rat could easily 
enter.  Also, he was more emotional than an average street rat.  Never 
having to hunt for food, he was finicky and didn't like the idea of 
killing to eat.  He even loved his vegetables and salads.  But he did 
have gold, which he had heard could solve many problems. 

Frankie stopped at the road and looked back to his home.  It still
looked different.  Chickie had helped move the bigger stones and they 
had repaired it as much as they could, but it was a patchwork of colors 
and rough edges.  Frankie hated to leave, but knew he must.  It was 
just too lonely there without the Doctor or monster. 

He made his way to the village, arriving after dark.  All the simple
cottages were dark, the villagers asleep.  The idea of revenge on the 
simple animals never crossed FrankenRat's mind.  They were just slaves 
to their simple nature. 

The first thing Frankie wanted to do was find another rat, then try to
enter their society.  He figured his gold would help, it had helped the 
Doctor.  He had never met another rat in his life, outside his own 
family, and the prospect scared the little guy. 

“You really should make some friends down in the village, Frankie.”  The
Doctor had told him, “it's just not natural for you to spend all your 
time up here with us.”  It had been Frankie's turn to cook dinner and 
he was dicing carrots with his sharp claws, a pot of stew already 
simmering on the stove. 

“You guys are all I need, right big guy?”  He threw a piece of carrot at
the monster, whom just grinned his big grin and ducked, the carrot 
bouncing off the wall. 

“But you should meet a nice girl down there and have a litter of kids.” 
The Doctor insisted, picking up the piece of carrot, wiping it off, and 
shoving it in his own mouth. 

“I'm still young.  I have a lot of time, Doc.”  Frankie had answered. 

Now, here he was; in the village and looking for company. 

Frankie walked through dark streets of thatch roofed wooden huts,
watching carefully for signs of other rats.  He saw a lot of footprints 
along the walls and a few holes, but didn't see anybody walking the 
streets. 

“Hey, buddy, want some action?”  A whisper came out of a shadow beneath
a tree.  Frankie walked over and saw two male rats.  Their hair was 
uncombed and whiskers long and ragged. 

“You want some joy juice, Mack?  Good stuff, and girls galore?”  One
growled at him, noticing the heavy pouch weighing Frankie down. 

“Sure, guess so.”  Frankie told him hesitantly.  After all, he had come
to town to meet people, hadn't he? 

“My name's Mike, and this asshole is Harry.  We know a good joint, but
you gotta buy some drinks.”  The taller one told him, grinning evilly. 

“We'll even introduce you to Mabel, won't we Mike?”  The other rat
giggled. 

“Sure will, Mabel's always looking for new friends, Jack.” 

“You can call me Frankie, that's my name.”  Frankie joined them in
walking through an alley, into a rathole and around some corners inside 
the walls of a brick building.  It was dark but a few candles were 
spotted along the walls to show the way. 

They finally came to what Frankie knew was a wine cellar.  They had one
at the castle but Frankie had never sampled the wares.  He had seen how 
silly the stuff had made the good Doctor Frankenstein.  The Doctor was 
always sick in the morning.  Frankie didn't see why the Doctor drank 
it, since it just made him sick. 

There were some tables make from upturned plastic cups, scattered around
a corner of the room, and a shoebox used for a bar.  A big burly rat 
stood behind the bar, several bottles of wine behind him, capped with 
some sort of device.  As Frankie watched, the big guy filled a thimble 
by turning a spout on one of the bottle caps.  He gave it to a rat, 
whom then staggered back to a table under a wine rack. 

There were what looked like about a half-dozen female rats and a couple
of dozen males, including three playing some kind of musical 
instruments in one corner.  Somehow, though, it didn't seem like a 
happy place.  Most of the customers just sat drinking, alone or in 
groups, and didn't seem to be saying much. 

“Come on,” Harry told him, steering Frankie to an empty inverted cup, 
“Gimme some money and I'll go get some drinks for us.” 

“Uh, I never been here before, Uh...how much you need?”  Frankie reached
into his pouch and pulled out one of the smaller gold chips. 

“Yeah, man, that'll do it, it surely will, Jac...Frankie.”  Harry fairly
beamed, taking the chip.  He was soon back with three thimbles, full to 
the brim. 

“Is this stuff legal?”  Frankie looked up at the racks of wine above and
around them.  “It's not stolen or anything?” 

“Na, the human never misses it.   He drinks so much he blanks out,
doesn't remember how much he drank the night before.  We rats help him 
out.  That's it, we help him out and he pays us with wine.”  Harry told 
Frankie, with a straight face. 

“Yeah, we help him out, we surely do.”  Mike laughed loudly, drawing a
lot of besotted eyes in their direction. 

When word of the gold chip circulated, most of the girls gravitated
toward their table for drinks and talk, meaning more gold chips for 
drinks.  There was one prettier one, not only combed and trimmed, but 
with a pretty red ribbon around her neck. 

“This is Mabel, Frankie, a special friend of mine, and Harry's sister.” 
Mike introduced them.  Frankie was infatuated.  Mabel seemed so out of 
place in the bar.  She should have a castle of her own, he thought. 

“Hello, Mabel.  Glad to meet you,” Frankie stood up and bowed, causing
his new friends to laugh and slap each other.  By that time Frankie was 
on his second thimble and feeling a little dizzy.  He thought they were 
laughing with him, not at him. 

Mabel, however, was thrilled.  No rat had treated her like a lady
before.  Her family was poor and, although she wanted to go to 
ratschool, they didn't have the money.  Here was what looked like a 
cultured rat and she was very impressed.  Better get hold of this guy, 
she thought, before some other rat gets him. 

It only took one more thimble to get Frankie drunk. 

“Ss...orry Mabel.  I feel funny, like I gotta...”  She grabbed an empty
thimble for him to vomit in. 

“Come on, Frankie, Honey.”  She took him by the shoulder, “you can go
home with me and sleep it off, ok?” 

“I...I'd...loik' ‘at.”  He gave her a bleary grin, about ready to pass
out.  His other companions looked at each other and Harry reached for 
Frankie's pouch. 

“Don't you dare, you bastard.”  Mabel slapped her brother's hand away,
“I'll bite your head off if you steal from my Frankie.”  The three 
stared at each other.   Mike wanted to fight, but Harry stopped him, 
afraid of their mother's reaction if Mabel told.  And they could see 
Mabel was ready to fight, which also influenced them, she was known to 
be a dirty fighter.  Frankie was too far gone to notice the 
altercation, busily vomiting into the thimble. 

*** 

Late the next morning, one very hungover FrankenRat woke to find himself
in a dingy straw bed.  Eyes still closed, he rolled over to bump into 
Mabel, in the same pile of straw.  Bleary eyes snapping open, he saw 
the sleeping Mabel, turned away from him.  Frankie staggered to his 
feet, to see, in a beam of intruding sunlight, at least another dozen 
rats sleeping in the same room. 

It reminded him of his own family before he left his birth home.  The
noise and motion from his waking caused others to groan and turn in 
their sleep. 

Frankie didn't want to wake anyone.  He was a little surprised to see
his pouch still filled with gold and lying on a thread spool table by 
the entrance.  Feeling sick, and still groggy, he left a few gold chips 
on the table and tiptoed out.  He was going to return after everyone 
got up but, on reaching the street, Frankie saw a wagon being loaded. 

Since Frankie wanted to see the world, he hopped on, hiding under a
folded tarp.  After a lot of noisy loading, including quite a few human 
words Frankie had never heard before, the cart started up.  Looking 
out, Frankie could see they were leaving the village behind.  Too bad, 
he thought, he would come back later to see Mabel. 

Frankie was soon sore from bouncing around in the wagon.  The blanket
helped but the rat's hide had grown tender from his years at the 
castle.  He had to throw up off the side of the cart, carefully wiping 
it off afterwards.  Cuddling up in the blanket with his head over the 
side, a miserable rat rode out his hangover. 

He woke when the cart stopped, having slept for most of the day.  The
sun was setting, but Frankie felt much better, almost frisky.  He 
jumped off at a stop and looked around.  The rat could see he was in a 
bigger village with taller two and even three story concrete buildings. 


Hiding in a nearby bush, he took time to study his surroundings. 
Looking into the setting sun, he was surprised that he could still see 
his own castle, silhouetted in the light from the setting sun.  After 
traveling all day, the horse drawn cart hadn't gone all that far.  
Still, it was a long, long way for a tired rat to walk. 

“Well, I asked for it.”  FrankenRat told himself, “I could have been
home in comfort.”  He did miss saying goodbye to Mabel though.  He 
really should have stayed around a while, he thought, well, too late 
now. 

It was fully dark when he left his bush to explore.  In a way he was
really glad that he could still find his way home.  Not homesick yet, 
but still comforting.  Frankie started wandering the downtown streets.  
Hell, this place even had lights on poles, at the end of each block 
yet. 

Hearing a lot of growling in a strange language, with screams and
laughing, he turned into an alley to check it out. 

A pair of scruffy alley cats had someone trapped behind a trash can.  He
could hear the victim pleading for mercy and the cats laughing as they 
tried to clear trash out, digging for their victim.  The pair seemed to 
be having a lot of fun. 

“Here now, you ruffians leave that person alone.”  FrankenRat yelled,
coming up behind them. 

Frankie couldn't understand the language, but he could understand the
tone, as both cats turned to face him.  They tried to circle around him 
but Frankie backed against a wall.   One cat jumped at him, to stop a 
foot away, growling and patting the air.  Trying to scare me, Frankie 
thought.  When he stood his ground the cats didn't know what to do.  
Usually smaller animals were afraid of them and ran. 

Frankie bowed his knees, compressing his leg springs, and jumped
straight up into the air.  As he did he saw two scared looking eyes 
peering out from behind the can. 

He landed on one cat's head.  His metal body knocked the cat silly, the
feline sprawling out senseless.  When Frankie put up his paws like a 
prize fighter, the other cat turned tail and ran. 

“You can come out now.”  Frankie told the victim.  The eyes came forward
and he could see they belonged to a beautiful lady skunk.  She had the 
loveliest white stripe from the tip of her nose, down her neck and 
back. 

“Th...thank you, Mister Rat,” she purred, “I ran out of perfume and they
would have had me.  You saved me kind Sir.”  He could hardly believe 
it, the lovely creature came up and kissed him on the cheek. 

“Glad to help.  I don't care for cats.”  Frankie thought he was in love.
“Why were they after you?” 

“The sillies accused me of cheating them.”  She fluffed her long furry
tail, flipping dirt behind her and started preening her fur.  “Part of 
the job, unsatisfied customers you know.” 

“No, I don't know.  What job?”  He asked, curious. 

“I sell my services, to service male creatures, sort of a friendly
consort, you know.”  Seeing the confusion still on his face, she added, 
“a hooker, buddy.”  He still looked confused, not knowing the word. 

“Come on, I'll show you, since I owe you anyway.”  She led Frankie down
a couple of alleys and into a vacant lot.  She told him her name was 
odorfurus and she lived in a hole in the ground.  He was kind of leery 
about going into a strange hole, but certainly wanted to please his 
pretty companion. 

His fears were unfounded, since it was a most luxurious hole in the
ground, with a rug, nice antique mice furniture, and even an electric 
dehumidifier. 

“You like it, Frankie Honey?”  She asked, pouring them both drinks
without asking.  “You can put your bag over there, Honey, nobody but us 
two here, and we're friends, aren't we now?”  She helped him unstrap 
and weighted the bag in her paw.  “What you got in here, Frankie Honey, 
gold?” 

“Yes Mam, Odorfurus, gold for my trip.  I want to see the world.”  He
confided in her. 

“Well, let me show you my ‘trip around the world' then, Honey.”  The
luscious creature grabbed him.  Frankie never knew if it was the loving 
or the drinks, but he woke up under some bushes, without his gold.  He 
also had a worse hangover than the morning before.  He didn't know it 
but the beautiful hooker skunk had drugged and robbed him. 

FrankenRat didn't remember much of his trip home.  He walked down a
dirty dusty road all day and all night before making it back to the 
village.  By the time he got there he looked as badly groomed as Mike 
and Harry. 

Speaking of Mike and Harry, they found him while he was resting in the
shade of a tree. 

“There's the bastard that jilted my sister.”  Harry grabbed a tired
FrankenRat by the shoulder, “and where's all your gold now, Ratboy?”  
He shook Frankie, “hey, I feel metal.  What are you, one of those 
fucking robots?” 

When Frankie turned his head to answer, Mike hit him on the head with a
loose tree limb.  The limb shattered on Frankie's head, alarming both 
his adversaries.  Frightened, they ran away, yelling invectives as they 
ran. 

Now Frankie was thoroughly miserable.  He had lost not one, but two,
beautiful women in two days.  And it was all his fault for feeling so 
superior.  Frankie had also lost all his gold, his grooming, and 
self-respect.  It was one miserable, down-trodden rat whom walked the 
long road back to the castle on the hill. 

On top of it all, he woke Chickie when he entered the squeaky front
door.  Chickie took one look at Oscar, scooped him up, and bundled him 
under some clean sheets, in his own little bed, and his own little 
room. 

FrankenRat took more than a month to get over it.  He eventually told
Chickie all about the awful experience.  Chickie commiserated with 
Frankie and patted him on the head, smoothing his fur down. 

“It gonna be ok, you see, little fella.  You gonna get over it.”  He
told Frankie.  For an idiot, that human is pretty wise, Frankie told 
himself, then turned his thoughts to the lost Mabel. 

In his grief he started hitting his own wine cellar, causing a concerned
Chickie to worry even more. 

Chickie decided to do something about it.  He dressed up and went down
to the village.  He had learned to talk rat by that time and started 
looking for Mabel.  It took a long time, going back night after night 
once Frankie was drunk and passed out, before he found her.  You see, 
rats didn't trust humans or want to talk to them. 

One morning Frankie woke with his usual hangover.  This time though, he
felt a paw wiping his brow.  Looking up with bleary eyes he saw an 
apparition.  It looked like Mabel sitting there by his bed holding a 
wet cloth. 

Frankie blinked his red eyes, again, and yet again.  The vision was
still there. 

“I...is th..that you, Mabel?”  He managed to get out.  It was the first
time he had hallucinated. 

“It's me, Frankie,” she replied, “and we have to stop meeting like this.
I've never seen you sober.” 

Well, she saw him sober many times after that.  Her whole family moved
into the castle, kids and all.  Mama Rat did the cooking and the others 
kept the castle clean, along with Chickie's help.  Somehow FrankenRat 
never felt the urge to travel after that. 

By Oscar (THE Rat)(rodentone)


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