Rodents
Xavier Blackwell-Lipkind
So. There was a mouse. Mom made us scream down the basement stairs until the mouse had a heart attack next to the dryer. Dad got a plastic bag. Dad carried the mouse outside and threw its hard carcass into the trash. A quick family murder. Then we all sat in a circle and played Crazy Eights until the takeout arrived. Burritos. We took fast little bites.
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Maisie drove me to PetSmart. Red-eyed hamster. The best disposition of any animal in the store, said all the people with name tags. Been here for three months. Needs a home. I reached out to pet the hamster. No, they said. No touching, sorry. Okay, I said. I’ll take him. He cost nineteen dollars; his cage cost more. They gave me a box with some hay for the ride home.
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Mom screamed, got the bread knife. No, I said. He’s mine. I’ve named him Dmitri. Mom said, it needs to go. I swear to fucking God, I’ll kill it, I’ll kill it in a heartbeat. I carried the box up to my room, opened it on my bed. He bit my finger, hard. I yelped. Through the door, Mom said, do you want me to kill it, honey, I’ll kill it, I’ll kill it right now. No, I half-said.
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That night, he escaped his cage. I woke to a sound like knives on metal. Shrieking, shrieking. Shortly after, a thump. I ran to my parents’ room. Mom clutched her finger. Vermin, she whispered, pointing to the far corner, where Dmitri lay still. Vermin. Dad got her a glass of water and a Band-Aid. She was standing now, eyes wild, quivering. Vermin.
Xavier Blackwell-Lipkind is a student at Yale University. His prose appears or is forthcoming in The Threepenny Review, The Drift, Gulf Coast, Copper Nickel, West Branch, Five Points, Brevity, The Barcelona Review, and X-R-A-Y.
ABOUT THE ART | In Anticipation of Cold Water by Charlie Nevins, 2022. Charlie Nevins is a student at Yale University.
