When You Wish upon a Rat (27 page)

Ruth gave a huge sigh and walked out of the room.

But by the end of an hour they had filmed her parents sitting on the veranda eating scones, along with Marcus sitting on his bike sucking a Slurpee—he saw the camera crew's presence as a chance to promote himself as a champion racer. Paul did his interview sitting on his bed while he played the recorder. Cindy and the crew told her it would make for more interesting television to show the whole house and Ruth decided there was nothing she could do. What did she know? They were the professionals. They probably knew what they were doing.

on her chest. She gasped for breath.
What was happening to her?
Her heart was racing. Where was she?

Gradually, she woke up to find … nothing. She was lying on top of the hotel bed, but no one was there. The weight was off her chest, and she could breathe easily again.
A bad dream,
she told herself,
just a bad dream.
She looked over to the window and took some deep breaths. Everything was … okay.
Wasn't it?

The light was failing outside and the room was now full of shadows. How long had she been asleep? She sat up and looked at the clock. It was five thirty now. She still had about fifteen minutes before Cindy was going to pick her up for dinner, and suddenly Ruth didn't want to stay in the room any longer. Why not get out for a few minutes and do something …
normal?
Maybe she could go and check out the pool.

Making sure she had her key, Ruth went to the door and pulled it open. Out in the corridor she looked around for some
kind of sign that would point her in the right direction. Apart from the
clunk
of the cleaner stacking things on a steel trolley down at the other end, all was hushed quietness. Maybe if she walked to the end of the corridor, she'd see a sign that told her where the pool was.
Ah! Voices.
She would ask someone. Ruth took a few tentative steps toward the noise just as Cindy's laugh rose above the rest of the chatter.

“Can't you see the headline if she wins?” Cindy was giggling wildly. “‘Slum Girl Fights Her Way to the Top'!” There was music and the clinking of glasses in the background.

“What about that shed full of useless crap!”

“Talk about eccentrics! That father was a nutcase!”

“And the mother!”

“What about the scones?”

“Like rocks!”

“Did you get a shot of her pulling them out of the oven?”

“Yep.”

This was followed by a roar of laughter.

“For God's sake, she looked like a medieval soothsayer in that getup.”

“So what else did you get?”

“Everything.”

“Our audience is going to lap it up!” Cindy said with a laugh. “Mr. and Mrs. Average in Altona will feel like their own lives are normal and successful in comparison.”

“It will work for the show too,” Ian said more seriously. “When they see the family the kid comes from, they'll want to see her win.”

“Did they all sign the form?”

“You betcha!” Cindy said gaily. “And not a murmur out of any of them.”

“So we're safe?”

“Absolutely.”

Ruth ran back to her room, her face blazing with humiliation. The “At Home with Ruth Craze” segment would make her family the laughingstock of the country. She shuddered. The flea-ridden dog, her dad's shed of mad inventions, her fat mum's terrible dress sense—they'd caught it all on film! She looked around the room wildly. A wobbly feeling in her chest and tummy made her feel like she might be going to faint. But … she was on this roller coaster now and there was only one way to stop it. She'd signed those bits of paper and, more importantly, her parents had signed other bits. The whole thing was going to happen!

Suddenly, the phone rang. Ruth jumped and stood staring at it.
Once, twice, three times
… Ruth tentatively picked it up.

“Yes?” she said.

“Hello.” It was her mother's voice. “Ruthie?”

“Mum.” The creeping tightness in her throat made it impossible to say much else.

All of a sudden, she wished she were home and that none of this had happened.
Home.
She was actually longing for the familiar smell of it. She would like to be in her own little shoe box of a room watching the night sky outside, hearing those annoying, loud brothers prattling on in the next room.

“Just ringing to make sure you're okay.”

A rush of tears flooded Ruth's eyes.

“I'm okay,” she said stiffly, feeling like she was choking. “Why wouldn't I be?”

“You don't sound okay,” her mother said.

“Mum … I just—” She stopped and tried again. “They're going to …”

But just at that moment there was a sharp little knock at the door. Ruth let the phone fall and watched it bounce on the carpet. She could hear her mother's voice calling through the phone.
Ruth! You still there?
Ruth's mouth went dry. It would be Cindy; what would she say? There was another knock, and with a sinking heart Ruth said good-bye to her mother and went to the door.

“Ruth, it's time for dinner!” Cindy grinned at her brightly. Ruth thought of how, just moments before, this same woman had been laughing about ruining her entire family. Ruth's heart began to beat hard. She couldn't think of what to say; she just knew she had to get away from her!

“I just … need some fresh air for a moment…,” she mumbled
as she ran past Cindy to the elevator and stood there pressing the button frantically until it came.

“Ruth, honey!” Cindy called sharply. The elevator door opened, and Ruth stepped in and pressed the button.

“
Don't call me honey,
” Ruth whispered under her breath.

“Ruth!”

But the door slid shut and Ruth didn't hear any more.

The elevator hit the ground floor with a soft thud. Ruth rushed through the big plush lobby where people were sitting around in fancy clothes chatting over drinks, and almost threw herself at the glass doors leading out into the street. They slid open silently and at last she was outside. The cold air greeted her like a sharp smack in the face.
That felt better.
She stood at the top of the steps, breathing it in greedily. People were coming and going in groups and couples.

By this time next week they'd all know about where she lived. Ruth swallowed hard. All those stupid things she'd said in the interview! If only she could take it all back. The moldy bathroom, the decrepit dog, her father's bizarre shed, and her mother's terrible scones!

Oblivious to the noise, the crowds of people, the cars and trams, and with no clear idea where she was, Ruth walked quickly through the streets. When she turned a corner, she could see the city skyline not far away, so she headed in that direction. Soon she was hurrying down the street with dinner-goers and
film patrons, and families on their way to walk along the river. She flew in and out around people, then across roads onto the pavements, past billboards, shops, cafés, and churches, acting like she knew exactly where she was going … when she didn't at all.

She was waiting for everything to become clear.

When she came to a big wide bridge, she slowed down and looked back at the tall lit-up city buildings and down at the web of pretty lights along the river. The lovely church just over the bridge, with its high pointy spire reaching right up into the pink-and-gray clouds, looked awesome. No one seemed to be noticing her much now. She stopped, leaning on the side of the bridge for a rest. The new watch, along with all her television clothes, was back in the hotel room, so Ruth had no idea of the time until she saw the town hall clock.

Five minutes to six!
Her old life was almost finished.

She walked over to the church and sat down on the steps. When she looked up, to her complete astonishment, she saw her own face on an enormous electronic billboard opposite. The words
Will She Win?
were scrolling under the image, along with news items about sports stars, the economy, and celebrities—all of them underneath her face!

So this was it! Her new life. The show would go to air. Her family would be humiliated and Ruth would become a star.

This is what she'd wished for.

Except it wasn't. Not really.

In one sudden blast, Ruth realized that she didn't want it at all. She wanted a lot, but not this. In spite of … everything, she really missed her family. Impractical, loud, messy—what did it matter? She didn't want to see them hurt or humiliated. She loved them!

Ruth stood and ran down the steps and around the side of the building in a complete panic. What could she do? She remembered seeing a red door around these parts earlier that day but couldn't think where. She turned the corner and … stopped, hardly able to believe it. Right in front of her was an enormous door with a brass knocker and black steps leading up, and it was bright red!

It was amazing how much slid by in two seconds. She saw herself on television, winning the national championship. She saw herself with all her fantastic new clothes, and all that wonderful stuff, her face on billboards around the city.

It had been so exciting. And fun. Everyone would think she was crazy. But she had to go with her heart.

The red door swung open immediately, and a swish of warm, dank air washed over her face. Ruth threw herself through the opening and plunged down into that dark space.

seemed like ages, but was probably only a minute, before landing heavily on the riverbank—this time on her back. Shaky and uncertain, she sat up and slowly looked around.

The pale sunshine had been replaced by long shadows, which meant it was late afternoon or early evening, and gray clouds were piled up along the horizon. Ruth smiled. She'd made it back in one piece.

She got up quickly, shook herself down a bit, then sat on a nearby rock. Her skin was itchy inside her clothes, and there was grime and cobwebs all over her coat, but she was filled with relief. What a day! So much had happened.

Ruth looked over at the place where Howard had lain down to sleep. The note she'd left under the rock was gone. She walked to the bridge and stood resting her elbows on the railing and looking down into the water. What if he was still fishing nearby?