The Best Mousetrap by Angela R. Hunt

The Best Mousetrap 

By Angela R. Hunt

“I wonder what it is really like out there.” Susan said as she looked at her reflection in the glass. Her whiskers touched the glass. Beyond was dark right now, sometimes it was light and a vast room was visible with many shelves, cupboards, and tables. Her companion’s ears twitched with nervousness. His serious black eyes stared at her. 

“You get such crazy thoughts. In here we have all the seeds we need. We have room to nest, clean pine shavings to nap in and even wheels to run on. The old timers say that it was too dangerous out there.” He looked irritated that she had brought the subject of Beyond up. He hated when she went to the glass and stared out. He was afraid she was planning something. She was always too inquisitive, always to restless, and she never seemed to care that she was safe and well fed here. He often wondered what was wrong with her. None of the other mice wondered what was out there. None of the other mice wanted to go out there. Perhaps if he took her to the Elder, maybe the Elder could help her see things more clearly. 

As they wandered the maze looking for dinner he brought the subject up. He thought she would not want to see the Elder, that she would consider it an attack on her judgement. She was excited and stopped him in the narrow hallway. Her eyes sparkled. Her whiskers twitched. 

“Definitely! I had not thought of that, why wait? Let’s go now!” She called out as she turned around and ran back out of the maze. He sighed and followed her. He paused once to scowl back at the glass. She would be the perfect mouse if she would just stop being so audacious. 

He followed her out of the maze into the large nesting area. It was dark there, but they used scent to find the little nest that the Elder had dug into the back wall of the room. The Elder was awake, sitting and dreaming as he often did. His eyes often focused on the past more than the present. Some days he ranted, some days he gibbered and some days he joked. It was hard to tell the difference between when he raved or taught. 

The Elder opened his eyes as they approached. They greeted the Elder. He greeted them and welcomed them to join him. As they sat she blurted her question out “What it like Beyond here?” 

The Elder was silent for a moment. Then he quietly shared his tale. Most mice think it madness, but what if it is not? 

I was born in our burrow in a large field. When I was young my parents did not come home one night. My oldest sister raised us. She looked out at the field. I looked too, but no one noticed that I looked. Hawks dove and caught mice. Snakes struck and took mice. Cats, dogs, foxes, and so many other predators just lurking out of scent and sight waiting for a tasty mouse bite. She would look out at that field every day. She looked back at my siblings. She told them only of tasty food, the seeds and leaves she brought us. She told them of flowers and sun. I helped her gather the food. I saw death, I smelled it, I was injured as I ran to escape a predator’s appetite more than once. I knew pain. I knew that mother and father must have died out there. I knew sorrow. The other mice did not. They were raised with soft stories and indulged with safety and confidence. I argued with my sister. They should learn the ways of the world. They should learn to survive, to thrive, rather than waiting for someone else to provide. 

She wanted them to have what we did not. She wanted them to have a beautiful youth. She wanted their memories to be full of joy and good. She was caught by an owl on our way home one night. I needed help gathering food. The others were useless and could not understand why they would need to work now. They had never had to before. I was so frustrated. I finally convinced one to help me. When we went outside he froze in the sunlight. He wandered around picking flowers and singing, I kept telling him to be quiet and to stay beneath the cover of the leaves. He ignored me. Five minutes later I heard his song cut off as wings snapped. The hawk was already gone. When I went back the others decided they did not need me. They blamed me for his death. I moved out. I felt responsible for how they had become. They had no food. They had no sense. They were helpless. 

I did not look back. I made my way to the edge of the field. I made a burrow in the soft, decayed wood next to a tall tree. There were overhanging plants and roots to hide in. It was great.  I was out in the field gathering seeds a few days later. I saw the nest ripped open, as if some great beast had dug them out. There was no sign of them. They were all gone. I searched and found no sign of them. A shadow fell over me. I was caught. 

We were all brought here. I have endured so many generations of the ones who never learned. The Beyond is where we live. This is a cage. We are fed by large predators. Sometimes mice go missing and are never seen again. Most are safe here. Most like the regular schedule, the knowledge of what their meals will be and when, as well as the clean fresh bedding to burrow in. It is safe here. It is certain here. It does not really vary other than the walls moving in the maze. I miss being Beyond. I miss the thrill of outwitting everything that wants to eat you. I miss the fresh food. I miss the breeze. I miss the rain. I miss the uncertainty. I miss life. If you would do something wise, leave here. Do not look back and do not take any of these other mice with you.” 

The Elder went silent. The two young mice were silent. 

Finally he laughed nervously and said “Ridiculous!”

She looked thoughtful as they left. That night while all of the mice slept, two mice went missing. The mice do not know and do not care whether the humans took them or whether the Elder and Susan found a way out of the cage. None of them knew if the two had escaped into the Beyond. They thought about the new toys the humans gave them. They snuggled in the cedar chips and pine bedding. They enjoyed the taste of the seeds and cheese they found in the maze. They savored the fresh water. They reveled in the lack of concern their lives required.