Mice and Siblings
Travis had learned something rather interesting recently, and he’d been spending time trying to figure out how to capitalise on this new information.
After much thought and deliberation, he decided that a pet shop would be the best way to handle the situation. After a bit of phoning around, he found one close to Regents Park that carried white mice, as well as all the sorts of things that white mice generally like having around.
He hadn’t expected for two little mice to need quite so many accessories, or for all those accessories to cost quite so much, but he reasoned that the price would be worth it in the end.
As he tried to flag down a taxi, which hadn’t been too terribly easy with his arms full of boxes, his mobile rang. In the shuffle to get at it, he nearly dropped everything.
“Make it quick,” he answered, finally managing to flag down a taxi.
“Where to, sir?” the cabbie asked.
“Glentworth. Number twenty-eight.” Travis loaded up the mice and all their toys into the back of the cab. He’d managed to walk to the pet shop, but walking home didn’t seem like it would be particularly easy.
“Travis, are you busy?” It was Hannah, the second oldest of his four younger sisters.
“Sort of,” he said, once he was settled in the back of the cab. “Just picking up some stuff for Nicky. Why?”
“Why do you get to call him Nicky?” Hannah asked.
“Because I hit him back.” This was, of course, a bit of a lie, since Nicholas never actual hit Travis.
“Oh. Well, my car is doing something strange, and I can’t get it started,” Hannah said. “Mum and Dad are in France - they went early this year - and Nick’s even worse with cars than I am.”
“God, no. Don’t call Nick. Let me get this stuff home, and I’ll be right over.”
Once home, he told the cabbie to wait for him. He took everything upstairs, quickly set up the mice in Nicholas’ bedroom, and took the cab out to Islington to Hannah’s flat, where he was greeted by her standing on the side of the road, next to her Ford Mondeo.
“What’s going on?” he asked, peering under the bonnet.
“I don’t know,” Hannah said. “It makes this terrible noise, and there’s lots of smoke. It was working fine yesterday.”
Travis frowned. “Can you start it for me?” he asked.
Hannah got into the car and tried to start it, but just as she said, it let off a terrible wailing screech and put off quite a bit of smoke. Shaking his head, Travis gave her the sign to kill the engine, and set about poking at bits of it. As he did, something caught the corner of his eye, and he was struck with an idea. He opened the oil cap and pulled out the dipstick.
“Hannah?” he asked. “Darling. My favourite sister.”
“Don’t say that,” Hannah said. “Every time you do, you follow it up with something horrible.”
Travis ignored her. “You change your fluids recently?” he asked.
“Yeah, just yesterday. Why?”
She came round to the front of the car, and Travis held up the dipstick, which was coated in a translucent orange-blue slime.
“Antifreeze doesn’t go in your oil.”
As Hannah quietly whined to herself, Travis replaced the dipstick and cap and closed the bonnet.
“You’re gonna have to call Tony for this one,” Travis said. “Sure he’ll give you a deal. He always does.”
“Can’t you fix it?” Hannah asked. “I need my car.”
“I only worked there cause Dad made me,” Travis said, referring to the garage Patrick used to own, and had recently sold to Tony Williams. “I’ve forgotten most of what I learned.”
Travis pulled her into a hug. “You’ll be fine,” he told her. “You’re one of Tony’s biggest customers. He loves you.”
“I know,” Hannah said. “That’s why I don’t want to take it to him.”
“Where have you been?”
Travis paused as he stepped in the door. “Hello to you, too,” he said. He put his coat up on the hook and kicked off his shoes. “Hannah fucked up her car again. I was helping her with that.”
“Mind telling me what this is?” Nicholas asked stiffly.
Travis looked up, trying not to smile when he saw the white mice on the kitchen table. “New friends,” he said. “Since you’ve got so much in common and all.”
Nicholas went very calm and very quiet. “Who told you?” he asked.
Travis only shrugged. “Told me what?”
“You know what.”
“I don’t.”
This was, of course, also a lie. He knew exactly why Nicholas was so upset, which had been the point from the beginning.
“Who?” Nicholas demanded.
Travis shrugged. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Goodbye.” Nicholas made very quick tracks for the door, barely remembering to fetch his jacket on the way out.
Once Nicholas was gone, Travis finally let himself laugh.
“Come on,” he said, picking up the mice’s cage. “You can come stay in my room.”