The Room (25 page)

O.K. I think thats enough. Its time to get started. I/ll give you guys a few seconds to get into position.

He watched as they looked at each other, and then around the kennel, in complete despair. Then, their eyes on the rat, they backed their way, as far as the wire would allow them, between the rat and the water. They waited.

He looked at his beautifully repulsive rat as his dogs readied themselves, not seeing, but aware of their reluctant movements. He wondered if they were thinking of what the rat might do to the children if he got near them and they
panicked and screamed and the rat felt threatened by them and attacked them with a cornered frenzy; or if everyone remained completely still and let the rat drink the water and go on his way. He wondered if his dogs were considering taking the chance of just stepping aside and letting the rat go to the water. Were they thinking of taking that chance?

He chuckled inside as he thought of the alternatives the dogs might be considering, and continued to stare at the rat. Everything about the rat was fascinating and attractive. The shiny dryness of the tight skin, the festering sores on the body, the twitching of the nose, and he could even feel the breeze from the fanning of the soft whiskers. He never particularly liked rats, but this was a good rat. Yeah, he was a good rat.

He pushed the button and the cage door was lifted and the rat was propelled by electric current and a crazed thirst toward the water at the childrens feet.

As the rat snarled forward the audience screamed and the dogs were thrust back until they hung from the wire for an endless precipitous moment until the strangling wire balled them together and they tumbled and rolled between the water at the childrens feet and the thirsty rat while their trainer screamed for silence and roared with laughter as he yanked the wires, then yanked again, and again as he experienced the exciting snarling of the rat, the yelping of the dogs, the screaming of the audience, the buzzing of flies, the scratching of nails and teeth, the piercing and tearing of flesh, the convulsions in stomachs and bowels, the terror, the beautiful terror of the game and the roar of his laughter and experienced the frustration of bones and muscles trying to move terrified bodies when movement is impossible, of frantic minds trying desperately to deny the existence of what they were seeing and feeling, experienced the panic of the minds and bodies of his dogs as they rolled and tumbled and wallowed in the path of a thirst-crazed rat who was propelled behind his twitching nose toward the water at the feet of the children and he yanked again and again to keep the beauty of the scene in motion as he experienced the deep
joy of controlling everything that was happening to all in the room – all the movement, all the dread and terror that was shown and felt – controlling it all with simply some thin wire, a bowl of water, and a beautifully mangy rat.

Never had he experienced such infinite power and excruciating joy, and they increased and increased as the rat thudded into the tumbling bodies and tried to squeal, snarl, bite and tear his way through the interfering flesh that was kept in constant motion by scrambling terror and the simple yanking of the wires as screams and howls now had to be forced painfully through almost closed throats and he roared with laughter and urged his dogs on to kill the rat, killim, killim, getim by the throat, and one of his dogs fell back almost pulling the wire from his hand as the rat tore his teeth into the flesh of his stomach and clung desperately as he and the dog jerked with panic and the more the dog tried to shake the rat loose the deeper and deeper the teeth burrowed into his body as the rat clamped his jaws on the loosened flesh sucking the wet blood and he yelled at the other dog to getim, get the sonofabitch you stupid fucking dog, nows your chance, get on the neck, chew off his head, and he yanked the wire and the dog suddenly felt the tickle of the rats whiskers on his cheek and his head jerked back and he tried to grab the rat with his paws but couldnt because of the leather wrappings around them and his voice screeched above the screams, biteim, biteim, chew his head off, and he tried to get his teeth into the rat and the rat jerked his claws across the dogs face again and again and again and again and again and he howled and howled and the claws scraped across his cheeks and eyes and finally caught in his lip and the rat was stretched between the 2 dogs, the flesh of stomach and lip tearing and tearing until the rat suddenly opened his mouth and hung from the dogs lip by a curved claw, swinging back and forth as the dog tried to shake him loose, then crunched his teeth into the dogs nose and fiercely clung to it as he tightened his grip until the force of his bite and the jerking of the dogs head forced his teeth through flesh and bone and another yank of the wire increased the rage of pain and terror and the other dog whose stomach was ripped and bloodied howled and leaped at the rat, clubbing
it with his leather-wrapped paws and their trainer roared with laughter as he heard the thudding and splintering of bone and the rat was almost completely obscured from view as the dogs rolled and thrashed until finally it hung by its teeth from the wrist of one of the torn and bloodied dogs, and he swung and jerked his arm until the force tore the rat loose and he went flying across the room. The first round was over.

  His laughter dropped to a low chuckle. The dogs panted heavily. The rat slunk in the corner, staring, his nose twitching. The audience was stiffly still. There was an air-sucking quiet. The bloodied and ripped dogs stared with crazed anger at the rat who was covered with their blood and whose thirst was now partially quenched. Now their eyes burned with pain and madness and they became the hunters reacting and acting on animal instincts. They didnt need to be told to attack. They didnt need to be thrust at the blood-slimy rat. They were not aware of defending anyone. They now had everything they needed to destroy the rat. To sink their teeth into the festered and diseased body. No wires, urging or threats were necessary. They had all they needed. They had the madness of pain.

  He continued to chuckle softly, his face relaxed in a large soft smile, as he looked at the blood-splattered rat sensing, rather than really knowing, that the rat was unharmed and that the madness of thirst and hunger had been appeased with the blood and flesh of his dogs, and he was now simply a trapped rat. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just a trapped rat.

He looked at his bloodied dogs and playfully toyed with the wires for no real reason other than that he wanted to. They ignored the slight pressure and continued to crawl very, very slowly toward the cornered rat. His trainers pride filled his eyes as he watched and observed. He saw the torn stomach of the one dog, the small flaps of torn skin hanging from the gash, the blood oozing out and flowing down the flaps and
dripping with a musical beat that seemed to be in harmony with the movements, breathing and heart beat, onto the kennel floor. He looked at his other animal but could not see the nose that had been chewed, shredded and bludgeoned, as had the rest of the face. The entire face was varying shades of red with slashes, rips, chewed holes and lumps of pulp that oozed and bubbled. He watched them move closer and closer to the rat, their bellies and chests brushing the kennel floor, their bodies forming a V forcing the rat deeper and deeper into the corner. All teeth were bared, rat and dogs alike. All bodies were ready to spring. There was nothing as a reward. Only death or survival.

Suddenly the animals sprang forward and for a moment the rat seemed to be locked between the huge heads of the dogs, but then he sank his teeth in the cheek of one while the other snapped at him trying to disembowel him with his teeth only to slide over his slimy skin and as the animals jerked and swung and butted the rat continued to gouge and rip with his teeth and claws but the dogs never relented and continued to snap and club at the rat and as he hung from one of the dogs the other tore at the rats flesh with dull teeth until finally each of the dogs had a portion of the rat in his mouth and tried to yank him apart then finally pinned him to the floor and gnawed and gnawed while the blood squirted in their faces and they felt the rats bones hard against their teeth and they continued to gnaw until every little bone had been broken and crushed and all the entrails had been torn from the rats body and spread on their faces.

They stopped.

They raised their heads slightly and looked at the crushed and slimy mess a few inches from their eyes. They stared for many moments as if afraid that somehow the parts would come back to life. The glob was still.

Slowly they raised their heads, stared, then slowly turned their heads away and stretched out on the kennel floor, panting. Slabs of flesh and guts still clung to their faces.

BRAVO!    BRAVO!    THAT WAS GREAT! Really great! Did you see that? Did all of you see that? That was great. Really great. Now, thats what I call good dogs. A couple of good ratters. See, Ive been telling you all along that youre a couple of dogs. Hahahahahahahaha. You see, I was right, wasnt I? Youre a couple of dogs. Real good ratter dogs. Hahaha. He started to toss them a couple of dog yummies, then stopped. I think you should wash your faces before I give you a little treat. Thats the good dogs. Get those faces washed. You dont want to spend the rest of your life with rat gut hanging from your faces, do you? Hahahahaha. Rat gut. Thats pretty funny. Hahahahaha. He watched and waited as they cleaned their faces with their forepaws then tossed them each a dog yummie. Thats the good doggies. Now you rest for a while then I/ll give you some nice horse meat and some water before we continue. He continued to look at them and shook his head, almost sadly. You know, you look terrible. Even with the rat gut scraped away you look awful. How did you ever let one hungry, mangy rat do that to you? Krist. I can understand a few bites and scratches, but youre a godawful mess. You with your gut all chewed up and this poor guy with his face a bloody pulp. And your nose is missing. Well, I guess I cant blame you for that. You werent the one who was smashing it. Youll just have to blame your mate for that. O well, thats all right. You did a good job eventually. I must admit that I am very proud of you. Of course one little kittycat could have done a thousand times better, but you cant expect too much from a couple of dumb-ass dogs. Maybe youll do better next time.

But we/ll forget that for now. You just rest for a few minutes. I think our audience needs a few minutes rest too after that magnificent display of animal courage and savagery. Hahahahaha. And after we finish our little performance you can crawl into a corner and lick your wounds. Hahahaha. But now you just rest. We want the rest of the performance to be up to the high standards we/ve set. But now you need rest. Then we/ll show them what great lovers you are.

He looked at his dogs, the audience, the
wet mess that was a rat, with only the long, thin tail intact, the tail in fact the only evidence that the mess was the remains of a rat and not that of some other animal or simply a pile of wet, gooey garbage. He continued to glance around the room and no matter how many times he looked at everything and everyone in the kennel, and no matter how carefully he investigated every little detail he could find no change, neither in the whole nor in any little detail. The audience remained stiffened, staring and silent. The dogs were still stretched out in the same place, in the same position, with their heads resting on their forelegs, the blood simply dripping from the many rips in their flesh, the face of the one dog transformed into a pulpy, bloody blob. The once-rat mess still just a glob of goo with a long thin tail. Everything remained still and unchanging.

Yet there was some kind of a change. Then, as he continued to look around the room, he slowly realized what the change was. It was within himself. The feeling of excitement and rapture that existed within him while watching the battle of survival and listening to the screams, the howls and snarls; the beautifully exciting sounds of agony and despair, all the sensations he experienced, the sense of accomplishment that had surged through him and burst forth with his bravos, the overwhelming happiness, was slowly draining from him.

He could not sustain it. All the vivid memories of terror in eyes and voice could not revive it to the point of intensity of a few moments ago. It had slowly built up through the performance, reached its apex and now, in spite of all he did to retain that intensity, it was slowly slipping away.

And as this realization grew he slowly became aware of the fact that he was tired. Physically tired. And as he went through his emotional withdrawal his exhaustion increased and he was content to lean against the wall and cease trying to sustain the intensity of excitement, but simply let it flow from him and enjoy the loosening of his body and the happy anticipation of rest.

And the more he surrendered to his feeling of exhaustion the more his disappointment
with the changelessness of those in the kennel decreased and the more he enjoyed the relaxing unfolding of his body. And then the cause of his disappointment was realized with utter and complete simplicity. All the others were exhausted. The stiffened audience, the torn and bloodied dogs, and, hahahaha, that hopeless mess of a rat. Now he was really exhausted. As a matter of fact he was so exhausted he fell completely apart. Hahahahaha. Yeah, he was so damned exhausted he was ready to be exhumed. Hahahaha. Thats a good one. He was really sleepy, sleepy bye-bye.

He stretched his body and mixed a low sigh with a soft chuckle as he glanced around the room again, this time looking differently. Everything was yet unchanged – the stares, the attitudes, the sounds, but he was no longer disappointed that the looks and sounds of a present terror were gone, or that the fear of apprehension was missing, because now he knew why there was nothing but apathy in the room. Hahaha. Yeah, especially the rat. He sure dont care about anything. The room was a big, quiet nothing simply because they were exhausted. It was that simple. They were beat.

He stretched out on the floor and put his hands behind his head and glanced a final time around the room. A little rest will change everything. Thats all we all need. Just a little rest. Of course he wasnt sure just how much rest the audience would get locked in their stalls staring at his bloody and noble beasts, but that was immaterial. The important thing was for the dogs to rest so they would be able to continue with the exhibition, and that he get enough rest to enjoy it. Thats all that mattered.