MOUSE TRAP

He heard a noise coming from the kitchen. Lying on the bed, Joe was doodling some imaginary pictures on the ceiling. Almost finished drawing a bear or a tiger, as he was making the last stroke to draw the tail and moustaches, the ceiling fan began to make noise, disrupting his attention. Ah, so annoying!

This stupid fan needs to be punished…he thought. Just then, the squeaking in the kitchen started anew. He recognised it. All right, I have to wait around twenty seconds, he thought. After a minute, he heard a loud squeak. Yes, Gotcha!

He knew it was going to get trapped; today, or tomorrow. Every morning, it stole his slice of butter from the dining table. Every day!

On the first day, it didn’t take away the whole slice though. Waking up in the morning, Joe found someone had already taken a bite of the butter. Small tooth-marks declared the culprit. It made him really upset. But on the second day, the entire piece was gone! He got angry this time. That’s enough, he decided. He could not tolerate it anymore.

In the next few days, looking through some dollar shops in this small suburb, he found a mouse trap! Not the latest ones, with cages. This was one of the old kinds, with a spring and an iron stick. He bought it.

He set up the trap under the fridge, then waited for seven days. Seven l-o-n-g days! At last on this beautiful morning today, the mouse got trapped.

The squeaking didn’t stop yet; the devil was still alive.

A copy of a year-old Playboy was constantly poking him on his elbow. A beautiful blue-eyed blonde girl was seducing him from the cover page. Well, she was a friend of his, in the good and in the bad times, but not today, no. He threw the magazine towards the corner of the room, and hurriedly pulled the shorts up from his knees, finally leaving the bed.

He went to the fridge and pulled the trap out from underneath with his toes.

The mouse looked healthy. No wonder those stolen pieces of butter really did a good job on it. The iron stick of the trap was pressing tight against its neck. All four of its legs were moving in every direction. Both of its small red eyes became cloudy already.

‘Howdy, buddy! Still want to eat my butter, huh?’

It was practically half-dead; Joe found, after coming out from the bathroom. It was time to throw it in the rubbish bin outside. But he decided to wait instead. The punishment was not enough, not yet; you need more lessons, buddy

He was planning to go out shopping. All the tuna cans were finished. He needed some sausage rolls as well. Two pairs of socks, too.

That last pizza slice from two days ago ended up in his mouth. He felt good. Old pizzas were always a delight.

It was sunny outside; he raised his hand to cover his eyes and realised he needed a cap too. It was summer already, no one could go out without a cap.

Pushing through the morning crowd, he headed to the local store.

The entire area was crowded! Was it a Boxing Day sale today? No, but it seemed like all the people of the town had come here today. Some of them ran into him. He poked a few, hard, with his elbows. ‘Ouch,’ screamed some and stepped away from him. Looking at his angry face, they didn’t dare to say anything.

He entered the supermarket, and a chilly breeze welcomed him at once. It was hot outside; he realised.

He quickly pulled up a trolley and headed to the aisles for shopping.

He never liked white socks, because whites would get dirty easily. Red was always better, so he took the red pair and threw them in the trolley.

A very smart looking white cap caught his eyes. He tried it. The mirror on the stand was tiny. But he managed to see enough and liked it. That was perfect. The visor could cover his eyes with no trouble. And he liked the secrecy.

This is the one, he decided.

He put the cap back in its place on the stand, thinking he would collect it on his way out.

He grabbed a dozen cans of tuna. But the beef cans were looking at him from the shelf, innocently. He liked beef, usually. But today, a crooked smile appeared on his face. He grabbed a can and spoke to it, ‘So, Mr Beef Can, remember what you did last time? I do. You cut my finger, idiot! Doesn’t matter how much you cry, I’m not gonna take a single one of you today! Go to hell!’

He threw the can back onto the shelf. So hard that it hit the other cans and all of them fell on the ground. One of them fell right next to his feet. He kicked it, ‘Drop dead!’

He was done shopping. Now it was time to pay. Heading back to the counter, he stopped at the cap stand.

The cap was gone!

Probably on the other side. He turned the stand around. It was not there. Someone might have taken it! A bubble of anger travelled from his stomach to his neck. On the mirror of the stand, he saw himself as the Gollum. My precious cap! Who took it?

He looked around carefully. Then he left the trolley there and started wandering through the aisles. He had to find out who took HIS cap!

After a few minutes, Joe found him.

It was an old man, standing next to the vegetables section. A fat, ugly old man who was deciding on a broccoli. That beautiful cap was sitting on the man’s head.

Why this cap? There were twenty more on that stand. Why his one?

Joe was wondering what to do. For a moment he thought of going to the man and asking politely, ‘Dear sir, the white cap you are wearing, that’s actually mine. Could you please return it?’

But it was impossible. These kind of nice words could not come out of him.

Joe followed the man around. That was not easy. Stopping here and there, the man was always checking something; then again heading to the other aisles. He was in no rush to finish his shopping.

After some more minutes of wandering around, the man headed to the counter. Joe wiped his wet nose with his sleeve and kept walking.

When going past the stand, the man halted. He removed the white cap from his head and put on a green one from the stand. Yes, you are looking great now, Joe tried to whisper these to the man’s head from afar. <em>This green one, which looks like a witch’s tooth! Please, please, please, take this one and leave my cap.

Joe was hopeful. But the old man removed the green cap too. Then he took both the caps in his hands, seemed like he was weighing them. After a minute, the green cap found its way back to the stand again. And the old man put on the white cap back and started walking.

Joe felt the warm breath of an orange dragon in his chest. He wanted to burn the old man with it! He kept following him.

The man paid for his trolley and left the store, not realising he was being followed. He lit a cigarette while walking.

I want the cap back! Joe sounded very determined in his head.

The old man stopped at the lamppost right next to the bus stop. He pushed the trolley against the post. And leaning on it, he kept smoking.

Joe went there and stood beside the man’s trolley. Every time he looked at the cap, he knew he wanted it more than anything in the world. I have to do something, can’t just give it away.

Minutes passed by. A large bus came into their view. The old man raised his arms to wave at the driver. But it was going to a different route. Shaking his head, the old man returned to his previous position.

But, within these three seconds, Joe did small math in his head.

The old man was leaning on the trolley. And the trolley was getting support from the lamppost. If the trolley was to be moved by the smallest amount, the man would lose his balance. There was only one place for the old man to fall if that happened. That was the street in front of him.

Easy math, and nice too. Joe decided. The next bus was nearing to them anyway, not much time was left.

Looking in the other direction, he pushed the trolley firmly with his legs, just when the bus arrived where it needed to be.

It wasn’t hard. To be honest, it was easier than going to several dollar shops to find a perfect mouse trap.

In the next four seconds, there was a hustle and bustle on the road. Just the same in his kitchen this morning. He saw the bus stopped hard at once. People around them screamed and ran to the bus immediately.

He was not sure if the old man had enough time to scream. Turning his head, he saw the body was there. The wheels of the bus ran over the man’s back. But the head was intact.

He slowly stood down on the street. Through all the dumb people standing near to the dead body, he managed to squeeze in. Very casually, he picked up the white cap from the old man’s head.

It had some dust from the street, and a little bit of blood on its back.

No problem at all, he would wash it off.

But didn’t he run out of washing powder as well? Ah, he just remembered. He stopped buying them for a while now. So, he had to go back to the supermarket again! Shit!

With a world full of annoyance on his face, he headed back.

Behind him, the old man was lying on the street, just like a large mouse. Those idiots around him were still squeaking.

(The End)