Morris(Anthony Colombo) MORRIS


Morris was a mouse that lived in flat 10A at 100 South First Street with an older couple. The man was a quiet person in his eighties and his wife was not much younger. Her exact age was known to her husband and at her request was not something she wanted others to know. Morris knew them as Papa and Old Woman. When the man wanted something he would say, ‘old woman get me this or that,’ and she would answer. ‘It’s on the table next to you, papa.’ The old woman was a clean housekeeper, and according to papa, a good cook.

Morris remembered the first day he met the old woman. It was just after he left his family. He had been wandering for days. He was tired and hungry. He had been in the rain, the sun, the wind and the hot and cold. He was at the end of his rope, and that is when he saw the small hole in a stone wall. Morris was small and fit through the hole easily. On the other side of the wall stood an English style cottage complete with white washed walls and a thatched roof. Around the house was a beautiful garden with well kept lawns. Morris felt at ease in the yard and took his time crossing the lawn to the house. The walk took him a long time but he felt refreshed and not the least bit tired. Everything was telling him that this was going to be his home. Morris found an air vent to the sub floor of the house and it was no effort at all to get into the house itself.

Once inside Morris knew right where to go. His nose picked up the sent of what his mind told him his stomach would enjoy. He was curious as he approached a bright light. He was even more careful when he saw shadows moving across the opening between him and the light. At the edge of the darkness, he stopped for a moment then inched his way out drawn by the aroma. The pain in his stomach and the smell in the air gave him the courage needed to overcome his concern for safety.

There right in front of him was a woman. She was just standing there. She wasn’t frightened, and she didn’t scream. She just stood looking down at Morris. He froze in his tracks. He wasn’t sure what to do. He was sure his life was over, but something funny happened next. The old woman bent down put her hand out and said, “here little one. I have a bit of cheese for you.” Her voice was gentle and reassuring. Morris’ little nose twisted and his judgment moved aside for his stomach.

A friendship, which lasted for years, was formed that day. The old woman fixed a mouse size box in the kitchen near the stove. She put some straw in it and changed the straw daily. Near the box she put a plate for food and a dish for water. She saw to it that both were kept filled with only the nicest things to eat and drink.

Once in a while the old woman would put her hand on the floor and Morris would scamper on to it. She would carry him into another room where papa would be sitting and the two would talk awhile. While they talked the old woman would scratch Morris behind his ear. Life couldn’t get any better than this, thought Morris.

Years past, how many Morris couldn’t tell because mice measure time differently than humans. Still there came a day when Morris found his dishes empty. Days passed and the straw, in his mouse-sized box, had not been changed. The dish remained empty for days on end – Morris didn’t understand. He went from room to room, where were papa and the old woman? What would he do without them?

Morris found some gram crackers in a cupboard and they helped for a while. Look as he might, there wasn’t much in the house to eat, the old woman was a good housekeeper – papa had said so often. Morris missed the old couple. They had become more like a family to him than just a source of food. He missed them and knew that he couldn’t wait for them any longer. If he were to survive, he would have to find another place to live.

His heart was broken as he took one last look at the home he came to love. Then he moved to the door he knew led to the garden. As he crossed the floor, the door opened. He stopped hoping that the old couple would walk in and all would return to normal. The door continued to open, and finally standing, with the light from outside flooding in, was a woman. It is the old woman? No, it isn’t. It is someone else, but she looks like the old woman, but there are no lines in her face. More noticeable than anything else was the fact that there was fear in her eyes.

When she saw Morris, she screamed. From behind her came papa. No, this wasn’t the old man that Morris knew. He too was vastly different and when Morris took a good look he saw immediately that this was a younger man and not papa. The younger man picked up a stick with bristles on the end that the old woman used to clean the floor. The new papa lifted it above his head and tried to hit Morris with it.

Morris ran. He ran to the hole he had first used to enter the house. Now it was to be his exit. He ran for the hole as fast as his little legs could carry him. Before he made the safety of the hole, however, the new papa tried to hit him with the stick two more times narrowly missing him on the last swing. In the hole, Morris stopped to catch his breath. From behind him in the house, Morris heard the papa trying to calm the new old woman. Morris didn’t care for these new people. He wouldn’t miss them at all.

Outside in the garden, the sun was still warm but nothing else was as Morris had first seen it. The grass was over grown. Weeds had started to spring up in places where once there were flowers, and the flowers themselves had begun to wilt. The roses had lost their petals. Withered and browning leaves lay all around the ground. What had happened? The old woman loved her garden. Papa spent hours caring for his lawn. What had become of them, thought Morris. Morris made his way through the tall grass and weeds. He walked as fast as the tangled weeds would allow. This time the walk was long and very tiring. He was sad, even sadder than the day he left his mother. What was going to happen to him now?

Morris reached the wall and fit himself through the hole. Something must have happened to the hole; it was a little tighter going than it was coming. On the other side of the wall was a dusty road. Morris had used it to get this far, now he would go on and see what was at its end. There was no looking back because there was nothing left to look back to.

Morris was on the road again and he remembered that this road could be busy so he stayed close to the edge near the grass. Often he felt something coming before he could see it. When he felt the vibrations, he darted into the grass and waited. Several wagons and many horses with riders passed him in this way never even knowing he was there. The people using the road would stop when the sun went down. Some would pull off the road and make a camp. It was in such places that Morris often found food. Sure they were only crumbs, but Morris’ size was relative, a crumb to a human was a feast to a mouse, and when he was really lucky, he found fruit. He was able to refresh himself, but he always had to stay alert for the people’s pets, and those often included a cat.

Life on the road wasn’t as pleasant as it was with the old couple, but it wasn’t that bad either. At one time he hitched a ride on a wagon. He was fine as long as he stayed out of sight. At night when the adults were asleep under the wagon and the three small children in the wagon, Morris would forage through the bags and boxes in the wagon for something to eat. He was able to find enough to live on as well as set some aside for later when he would have to walk again. The smallest of the three children knew Morris was in the wagon and often offered him food from her hand, and Morris remembered the old woman.

Still, holes growing in bags couldn’t go unnoticed for long. What Morris didn’t know was that he had been found out. No the adults hadn’t seen him, but they knew he was there. The man started setting traps. Morris didn’t know what a trap was and would have been caught or worse had it not been for the little girl. She saw her fathers’ traps and knew what they could do, so when her father set a trap she would trigger it and let Morris have the cheese. It was fun for the little girl to play a trick on her father, but it was frustrating for the father. Finally, he set his last trap and lay down pretending to fall asleep. About eleven o’clock he heard movement in the wagon. Peaking over the tailgate he saw his daughter with a stick. She poked at the trap causing it to snap. The man wasn’t sure whether to be mad or laugh, but no matter, the mouse would have to go.

The little girl took it hard, but Morris was on his own once again. The family did pick a pleasant part of the road to set Morris adrift. The spot had several oak trees, fresh water and plenty of wild berries for Morris to eat. It was a comfortable place and Morris wasn’t in any hurry to leave. He watched many people come and go. He became quite the little raider at home in the shadows. He ate well every night. Life was so good he made no plans to leave, quite content to spend his days here.

Days passed becoming weeks and then months. Wagons came and went. People came and went. Dogs and cats came and went. No matter who or what stopped, Morris was two jumps ahead of them. He helped himself to food and little sparkling things that he found in the wagons. Not only time had no meaning to Morris, property rights had no meaning either.

Morris was as much at home in the wagons of others as he was in the house of the old couple. Getting in to a wagon was like a game for Morris, and looking around, an adventure. There was always something new to see, to taste, to try and maybe to take home. One night while Morris was busy with a box he heard something moving behind him. He was instantly mad at himself for letting his guard down. He had become so involved with a box that he forgot his own safety. He stood quietly not moving facing the box. He wasn’t sure why, maybe if he stood still, what ever was behind him wouldn’t see him and just move on. How silly, he thought, but still he stood.

Then he heard, “hi, I am Cleeker. Who are you?” The voice behind him was soft and sweet, not threatening at all. He turned around. Standing in front of him was another mouse, and it was a girl. More important, she was the prettiest mouse he had seen since he left his mother and sisters. “Hi, I am Cleeker. Who are you?” she repeated.

“My name…my name…” What was with him, he thought. I can’t even say my own name. She was so pretty he couldn’t get his mouth to work at all.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m Morris,” he said finally regaining control of himself. “I live here. Are these people your family?”

“No silly. People aren’t family. These are only the ones I picked to ride with because they are safe. They don’t care about what happens in here and they leave food out so it is easy for me to get to it. But, why did you think they were my family?”

Safe place or not, Morris didn’t feel comfortable in the wagon. He had been caught off guard once and that wouldn’t happen again. Morris asked if she would like to go with him to his home, and to his surprise, she said she would. He led the way thinking that this wasn’t real. He even looked back to see if she was really there, and not just a dream, several times. Every time he looked she smiled. When they reached his home, she found it cozy and well kept. He had decorated it with many of the nice things he found in the wagons, and she was impressed. When she was comfortable, he brought something for her to drink and eat.

Cleeker thanked him for everything and asked again why he called people family. Morris then told her about the old couple, especially the old woman. Cleeker had never heard of people that weren’t trying to hurt mice. She told Morris that she would have really liked to have lived with them.

They sat and talked through the night. Morris’ home was under a rose bush and the combination of a view and the pleasant scent created the most restful atmosphere. Neither Morris nor Cleeker were tired. Morris felt so at ease with this pretty girl that he hadn’t even noticed the sun coming up. Her disarming charm could melt ice, and Morris couldn’t stop talking. She listened and learned all about Morris’ adventures. If he had known any national secrets, he would have told her without a second thought.

Cleeker, on the other hand, was impressed with Morris and his taste in his choice of a home and its location. She felt as though she had been in a desert all her life and had found an oasis. The fact that she liked Morris was a bonus. As Morris spoke she had a funny feeling deep inside her. She fell in love with the sound of his voice. She looked into his eyes and she saw her future.

When the sun had been up for hours, Morris walked Cleeker back to where the people had parked their wagon. They walked slowly. They both knew that soon they would be parted and neither wanted this day to end. Morris was quiet for a long time. His heart was breaking and his mind was working overtime trying to figure a way to keep Cleeker with him, but when they reached the camp grounds, Morris’ eyes got as big as saucers – the wagon? It was gone!

Cleeker looked at him, there was a hint of desperation in her eyes. “What am I going to do now?” she asked.

“Well you can stay with me,” Morris said. “You liked my place, and I think you like me. I think this place is going to get even better because I have heard some of the people that have been moving through here saying that a big factory or something called Nimh will be coming here soon.”

AH, but that is another story. Still, Morris and Cleeker lived for many years happily and in peace and had a very large family of their own.

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