I can't for the life of me remember if it was a request, a question or a remark.
But the gist of the incident will be burned into my memory 'til Kingdom come.
Back in the early eighties, a party at a Friend's house was dwindling toward the early hours of the dawn. Someone said something and I reacted.
I finished my tirade with the most scathing remarks and caused an abrupt end to the felicitous soiree. Guests were leaving in droves; and the most awkward silence.
A little later, I was sat with my host, in his back garden, wandering what on earth had just happened. He was surprised, to say the least. So was I.
It was totally out of character, and the ripples of it haunted me for several months.
" Ah! The rats in the cellar.", said a voice from the patio. It was another guest.
A quiet, unobtrusive man, in his autumn. One of those people that everybody smiled at and said 'hello', but didn't play any sentient role. One who just blended into the background.
He came and sat with us, nursing a cup of tea in his gnarled hands. A man that had been shaped by a hard yet colourful life.
Our faces must have been blank as he settled confidently in front of us.
His eyes searched mine. He gently smiled and directed his gaze to the steaming cup. Still smiling, he said, "Don't you know about the rats in the cellar?"
Our host and I gave each other a bemused look.
The old man gave a knowing smirk and took a deep breath.
We were riveted.
He related that when he was a boy, a rat catcher had been called to their home.
The rat catcher arrived and stood on the front step, accompanied by two, small Jack's. (Jack Russel Terriers). The catcher was a slight, small man with his trousers tied at the knees with string. Over his shoulder he carried a large empty sack.
He was shown to the cellar door and the storyteller's mother was about to turn on the light, when the rat catcher stopped her. He produced a candlestick from the sack and said that was all the light he would need. He asked if everyone could be as quiet as possible. After a few moments, he gingerly opened the cellar door and quietly sat down on the top step. The dogs settled down next to him, their ears twitching, but making neither sound or movement! They stayed like that for about ten minutes. You could hear a pin drop.
The dogs started looking to him, and at the nod of his head, the dogs tiptoed quietly down into the darkness. The catcher followed after them, closing the door behind him as he went.
They expected all hell to break lose. To their surprise, the dogs made hardly a sound. Another ten minutes, and the cellar door opened. The catcher blew out his candle and turned on the main light, returning down the steps. "I think that's the lot!", he called out.
The dogs appeared first, with bloodied muzzles. The catcher emerged with a bulging sack, saying he'd return to fill the holes.
Our storyteller had stood by the cart when the catcher was mixing mortar.
The catcher explained to the lad, " If you make a noise and turn on the light, they know you're coming. They'll be ready and they'll hide. You have to catch 'em quietly, in the dark, by surprise!"
Now this old 'sage' that sat with us in the dawn, explained.
He tapped his temple with his finger.
"This is how you'll learn," he tapped his chest, "what's in here."
"If your ready for the moment, you'll prepare your response."
He swigged the last of his tea.
"It's when you're not prepared; that's when the real you appears!"
" Very few have a clean cellar."
He wished us a good morning and left by the back gate.
Grape
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Topic: Rats in the Cellar (Read 2944 times)