The Cost of Air
Bill Condon
Waldo the Weirdo was a bit of a loony. His best – and probably only – friend was a black and white rat named Maynard. Waldo owned a service station. When he was pumping petrol, Waldo kept Maynard in a cage – the door always open so he could come and go as he pleased. At other times the rat perched on Waldo's shoulder or slept atop his frizzy grey hair.
A lot of people have pet rats, and most of them aren't particularly weird. But Waldo stood out from the pack because – from certain angles – his face looked very much like that of a rat's – especially if he happened to be nibbling a piece of cheese.
Another odd thing about Waldo was that he talked to Maynard all day long. And Maynard talked right back to him! Well, it was only the chittering, squeaky noise any rat makes. But Waldo seemed to understand it perfectly.
‘Oh, really?' he'd say to Maynard. ‘You saw it on the TV, did you? Well how about that!'
The rat would nod its head like a wise old man and chitter some more.
If anyone asked Waldo who he was talking to, he'd tell them without any embarrassment.
‘My friend, Maynard,' he'd say, pointing at the rat. ‘I know it's hard to believe, but that rodent and I have simply amazing powers of communication.'
Most people got on just fine with Waldo. But there were two sneaky young brothers – Neil and Jack – who Waldo didn't like one bit.
The brothers were the ones who had given him the nickname Waldo the Weirdo. Whenever they visited the servo they taunted Waldo by making jokes about him just under their breath.
One day they crept into the service station when Waldo was sound asleep. Maynard peeped out from behind Waldo's right ear. The rat's beady little eyes followed Neil and Jack as they tip-toed ever closer to the sleeping man.
The pair didn't make a sound, but suddenly the rat screeched and Waldo's eyes popped open. He jumped to his feet when Maynard dug its claws into his shoulder.
‘I know what you boys are up to!' he yelled.
‘No you don't.'
‘Yes I do! You were going to pull Maynard's tail!'
The brothers exchanged a look of surprise. That's exactly what they were going to do. But how did Waldo know?
‘No way!' said Jack. ‘We like your rat.'
‘We just don't like you,' added Neil.
‘Don't lie to me,' replied Waldo with a shake of his head. ‘You were going to tease Maynard. I know that for a fact.'
‘How could you know?' Neil shot back. ‘You were asleep.'
‘Maybe so. But Maynard has a sixth sense about these things. He knew what you were up to. And he tells me everything!'
The boys laughed.
‘He's a bigger weirdo than we thought,' said Neil.
Waldo cuddled Maynard and stroked the animal's soft, furry back. But when Neil reached out to touch it, the rat bared its teeth and snarled. It sounded more like a miniature tiger than a rat.
‘Let's get out of this dump,' Neil grunted.
‘Fine by me.'
* * *
The boys talked a lot about getting even with Waldo, but they weren't brave enough. They steered well clear of the servo for a month. But that all changed as they pedalled home on their bikes one Sunday after a day's fishing.
At the foot of Coalmine Hill, Neil noticed that their bike tyres were going down. They were never going to make it up the steep hill on flat tyres. Across the road was Waldo's service station. They forgot about their fears and headed straight for the air pump.
Neil and Jack were too busy pumping up the tyres to notice Waldo looming over them. He swiped the pump away and glared as if they were a couple of bank robbers.
‘I don't want you boys around here,' he growled, waving his finger at them like a big stick.
‘Get a life, you creep,' replied Jack. ‘We only want some air for our bikes.'
‘Air's free, Waldo,' added Neil, taking a deep breath to illustrate the point. ‘See?'
‘For decent people it is, but not for you troublemakers. If you want air it's fifty cents a tyre. Now pay up or get lost.'
Neil and Jack weren't scared any more. They were just angry. They felt like wrapping the air pump around the old geezer's neck and squeezing the life out of him, but there were too many people around for that. Besides, light-fingered Jack had a better idea.
‘Pay him, Neil,' he said. ‘It's only fair.'
‘No way! He can't charge us for air. That's –'
His words trailed away as Jack winked at him, a wink that said, ‘Shut up, stupid. I've got a plan.'
Jack had nicked the key ring dangling out of Waldo's pocket.
Neil forked over two dollars and Waldo stood watch while they used the pump, making sure they didn't get up to any mischief. The brothers smiled at him politely. They even thanked him. It was very suspicious, but he couldn't do a thing about it.
An hour later the phone rang at the service station.
‘Waldo's Servo. How may I help you?'
A high-pitched voice replied: ‘I'm a regular customer of yours.'
It sounded like an old lady.
‘I've locked my keys in the car. I'm at number twenty-six Cliff Street – just across the road from you. Will you help me? Please. I'd be ever so grateful.'
‘All right,' said Waldo. ‘No trouble. I'm on my way.'
Quickly he switched off the petrol pumps and picked up his toolkit. He was halfway out the door before he realised that Maynard was still on his shoulder. He may not have remembered except that his pet let out a warning squeak. The rat looked agitated. Its tail slapped against Waldo's head.
‘No need to get excited, pal,' Waldo said. ‘I won't be long.'
The rat scampered into its cage as Waldo pulled the door of the servo locked behind him, then strode across the highway towards Cliff Street.
Jack shook with laughter as he put his father's mobile back into his pocket.
‘Come on,' he told Neil. ‘It's time to have some fun.'
Using their stolen key, the brothers entered the office. They were going to teach Waldo the Weirdo a lesson.
Maynard cowered in a corner of his cage as the boys went to work. They emptied the wastepaper basket on the floor. They scrambled some papers on Waldo's desk. Then dripped coffee over them. Then they hid a few things. A pen disappeared under a book. A clock was dropped behind Maynard's cage. As an afterthought, Waldo's asthma puffer was pushed to the back of a filing cabinet. Then finally, with a can of spray paint, they scrawled across the wall of the office, FREE AIR!
Then Jack's evil gaze fell on Maynard. He shut the door and twirled the cage around, sending Maynard in dizzy circles. The boys were considering what nasty business they could get up to with their prisoner, when they saw Waldo hot-footing it back. Dropping the cage, Jack sprinted out the back door with Neil, then hid in the bushes out front where they had a perfect view of the office, and their victim.
Waldo's face was red and he was breathing heavily even before he walked inside the door. When he saw that there had been a break-in, he let out a muffled ‘Ohhh!'
As his breathing became more laboured, he eased himself into a chair and groped around on the desk.
‘He's probably after his asthma spray,' said Jack.
‘It'll take him ages to find it,' added Neil happily.
When he couldn't find the spray, Waldo frantically searched the desk, pulling the drawers out onto the floor and tipping them upside down.
‘I wish we had a video camera,' lamented Jack. ‘This is so good!'
After a few minutes of searching, Waldo slumped to the floor.
Neil cracked first.
‘Maybe we should help him.'
‘I suppose so,' said Jack, reluctantly. ‘Come on then, if we have to …'
The brothers strolled into the office.
‘You don't look too good, Waldo,' said Neil. ‘Anything wrong?'
‘Asthma!' the old man gasped. ‘Need my spray!'
Jack took the spray from the filing cabinet and held it temptingly in front of Waldo.
‘Is this what you want?'
‘Please,' said Waldo as he groped for the spray.
‘Okay, you can have it. But if you tell the cops what we did, we'll be back.'
‘And next time you won't get off so easy,' added Neil.
He dropped the spray next to Waldo.
‘There's one more thing,' Jack said. He dangled Maynard's cage in front of Waldo. ‘The rat is ours.'
‘No!'
Waldo tried to raise himself off the floor, but he was too weak.
‘Don't take Maynard away from me,' he pleaded. ‘He's all I've got!'
Jack smiled.
‘Yeah, I know. That's why we're taking him.'
* * *
As soon as they got home, the brothers tossed a coin to decide Maynard's fate.
‘Heads we stomp on it. Tails we drown it.'
The coin rolled against a door and rested on its edge, neither heads nor tails.
‘What'll we do now?' Neil asked.
Jack smirked.
‘We'll stomp on it and we'll drown it!'
The brothers took Maynard outside to do the dirty deed. But the moment the rat was free of the cage it wriggled from their grasp and was off and running.
‘Get it! Kill it!' screamed the brothers.
Maynard rushed across a field and headed up a windy trail that led to a mountain top. The higher up the hill it went, the slower the rat became. It was almost as if it was waiting for the brothers to catch up.
‘We've nearly got it!' shouted Jack.
Now they were at Prospector's Hill, an old mining site. The area was fenced off to stop trespassers. Maynard hurtled underneath a fence. Jack and Neil ducked under it too. They were about to pounce when the ground opened up and swallowed them.
The brothers fell heavily to the bottom of a mine shaft. They rolled to safety under a rock ledge as dirt tumbled in from all sides, sealing up the shaft. Their only hope came from a tiny beam of light above them.
‘Don't panic,' said Jack confidently. ‘We'll just climb up to that light and dig our way out. Easy.'
‘Let's do it!' replied Neil.
But instantly the crack of light disappeared.
Neil stood on Jack's shoulders and pushed at the cave roof, trying desperately to find the opening. He did find it, but there was something wedged tightly against it. Something soft and furry, with very sharp teeth. Something that, in their last moments, would make the brothers think of nothing else … but the cost of air.