Snowfall Scene: Squelge and Barker

According to the syllabus, there is not a blog due this week, but I wanted to share with you a scene that I have written for Snowfall that introduces two of my villains.

In the last scene that I submitted on this blog, my main character Snow was delivered and rescued by the retired physician Dr. Light from her frightening mother, The Snowfaller. The only other witness to this event was a wood rat. Nearly a year later, through a chain of gossip between rats, the news reaches the other side of the world, in the enormous, thriving Vizarro Grand.
Here, we meet Illius Squelge, a man who speaks to rats and his friend, a half-dog man, named Barker. Squelge, a man who speaks to rats, finds himself in a situation that threatens his frivolous lifestyle (and suspects that racism may be behind it.) Luckily for Mr. Squelge, a rat delivers some very, VERY important information to him, information that would be very useful in negotiating for what he wants.

Scene Four - Mr. Squelge and Barker

On the other side of the world, in the gigantic city of Vizarro Grand, we see a rat running through the street. It gossips to another rat who takes off down a long alley. We see the rat turn and run down several more streets. As he whispers to another rat, we see two men walking down a narrow, back alley street.

 On the left is a man, skinny as a rail, his grey braid swaying with his hoppy, dance-like movements as he walked. The man would occasionally twirl or tap his cane, fitted with a silver handle in the shape of a rat’s head, on the ground. His beaver-skin topper and long, patched overcoat stuck out oddly among the people walking by, not only because the outfit was nearly twenty years behind the current fashion, but because out of his many pockets little rodents peeked out, whiskers twitching, and round the brim of his has was a tiny wire railing, which kept the mice from falling off.

The man beside him was opposite in nearly every way. He was a towering, grim-faced fellow in plain clothing. His boxy shoulders, hulking arms and a severe underbite with a single tooth jutting out, gave him the appearance of a Neanderthal. The cap that fit snuggly over his head did a poor job of hiding the pointed ears that protruded underneath the fabric.

“Well, Barks,” We overhear the man begin, annunciating things sharply to mask a common accent: “we have already imbibed and gambled at the three penny parks and said “’Ello” to nearly every painted Lulu on the street, and it’s not even 2 o’clock yet. Ha! What a life, aye?”

 “I don’t really think that counts as saying “’Ello” to ‘em if ya’ jus’ play Mah-Jong wif ‘em.” Barker observed. 

“I pay ‘em to do what I want to do wif ‘um, which is to play a lovely tile game with me. Besides, I can always get a laugh out of ‘um, unlike you.” Mr. Squelge said. “Ya know I love ya, Barks, but you’re about as cheerful as an undertaker.”

From above, a red-faced man on the balcony of a building called down to Mr. Squelge.

“Top o’ the morning, Mr. Squelge!” The man called, smiling broadly.

“Good morn’in and e’ryblessin!” Mr. Squelge called, tipping his hat.

“Where you off too?” The man called.

“Off to pick up Lucy and pick up the ‘ol paycheck!” Squelge called. 

“Oy, never enough is it? Especially these days!” The man called, with a hearty laugh. “Have a good day!”

“And you!” Mr. Squelge called up.

The pair stopped at a pretty blue shop, with a wide viewing window in the front where several ladies in matching blue uniforms were washing and grooming several dogs. The pair went in and came out a few minutes later with not a dog, but an enormous white rat, the size of a basset hound, on a leash. Around her neck was a collar, with a bright pink bow and a tag that read: “Lucinda.”

The white rat walked like an iguana, feet turned in and hissed and sputtered at those that passed. Her blood red eyes narrowed at the rats who followed at Squelge’s feet and she bared her long sharp teeth menacingly at them.

“Now, Lucy-Darling,” Mr. Squelge said. “Do you feel much more a lady?”

The rat squeaked and chattered at Squelge, as a woman walking a dog passed. 

“No, we’ll feed you when we get home.” Squelge said, firmly as Lucy-darling eyed the dog. “We’ve got to stop at my mailbox first. Time for my allowance! After the motorcar, I’d thought we’d be eating scraps for a month.”

“Still dunno why ya bought the damn thing,” Barker muttered. “You can’t even get it through these narrow roads ‘ere.”

“Now, now, Barks,” Squelge said brightly, tipping his hat to a lady that walked past. “I worked and waited my whole life to be an extravagant fool, and by god, that’s what I’m going to be.”

The pair stopped along the side of a building that had many brass mailboxes in rows along the wall. Mr. Squelge unlocks the little door and removes an envelope. He continued to chatter as he opened it.

“So, I was thinking, how about that new place that opened on Rose Street. Steaks and ribs, I think. I dunno, either way, I’m just absolutely famish-“ Mr. Squelge’s eyes widened as he counted the notes that were in the envelope.

“This isn’t right…” Squelge said. He reread the message, his eyes growing wider and wider.

 “WHAT?!” Squelge cried out, hands shaking. “I-I-GAH! They can’t DO THIS to me! I’m a bloody national hero!”

“What you on about?” Barker said, as he leaned up against the wall.

“Dear Mr. Illius Squelge,” Squelge growled through gritted teeth. “The Treasury Dept. of Vizarro Grand and Greater Greycliff territories wish to inform you that until further notice all superfluous outflow is to be temporarily suspended. Your monthly allowance will continue as promised, but with the state of emergency that we are in, we ask for your patience in this time. For any questions or concerns, please contact - blah blah blah! HOW COULD THEY DO THIS TO ME! HOW DARE THEY? I'M A BLOODY NATIONAL HERO!”  

“I knew we was gonna get crowded out when it got bad enough.” Barker grumbled. “The humans’ll be getting their paychecks cut last, wif’ out doubt. Us Tahnzi-folk always gettin' the shaft.”

 “I’ll go straight to Chairman Rose himself!” Squelge spat, crumpling the letter in his fist. “I’ve got it in writing! I am getting what I was promised! They ain’t rippin’ me off!” 

 A rat soon begins to squeak at him by his shoe.

“Wot are you on abou’?” Squelge said. The rat repeats himself.

“It can’t be. How? Where?”

The rat squeaks again.

Squelge’s jaw has dropped and then he seems to get an idea.  

“I have just received some very valuable information, Barks,” Squelge stuffs the letter in his pocket and straightens himself up. “C’mon. We’re going to see the Chairman.”

The pair set off down the street, Squelge with a spring back in his step.