The Second Waltz by Shostakovich.

The hotel was rat infested.  

Dead rats lay in the corridors of the hotel; their eyes vacant like a pool full of cigarettes. The hotel manager shot them with a pellet gun whenever he had the opportunity. On arrival he said to me: ‘’If you see a rat, kill the son of a b***h!’’ I had been their several days and through a happy accident had found out the rats would dance to Russian waltz music. Their favourite being The Second Waltz by Shostakovich. They danced with such poise and elegance that it brought a tear to my eye. Their tails swayed like synchronised swimmers and I could not bring myself to cause harm to any of them. So I decided to give them refuge in my room. The room was small and cramped but the rats squeezed themselves in. In the evening I played more Russian waltz music that the rats enjoyed while I sat at my typewriter writing letters to various people. I fed the rats fruit and seeds and whatever was in the garbage that the hotel kitchen had thrown away. The hotel food was not to a very high standard but the rats seemed to like it.  

One morning at breakfast the hotel manager said me: ‘’ I’ve not seen any rats for days! You wouldn’t have anything to do with it?’’  

I replied ‘’No’’ in an unassuming voice.  

‘’Well, whoever has ridded me of those vermin I am indebted!’’ he said in sinister tones.

 The maid who cleaned my room in the mornings seemed to know the truth. Her face had the innocence of holy fire so I knew she would not burn me.  

I did have the suspicion the maid was sleeping with the hotel manager. It was of course only a suspicion and if true did not take away the innocence of her face. I noticed she gave me certain looks, glances of deep red, impressed by my distant gleaming’s.  

One evening at the sunset hour after I had washed my hair the rats were restless. Their teeth nervously cut into the floorboards making a noise that shook the foundations of the hotel. It was so fierce that it caused an earthquake which lasted for at least three minutes! After, the other guests came out of their rooms confused and muttering to one another.  

‘’What the hell was that?’’  

‘’Did you feel that?’’  

‘’Yes, what was it?’’  

One woman had bashed her head while in the bath.  

‘’It was those damned rats!’’ The hotel manager screamed. ‘’ I know the work of rats when I see it!’’  

I ventured back into my room and quickly told the rats to scarper. They climbed the walls and into a hole in the top right corner of the room where a curious spider would make itself known after the midnight hour.  

The hotel manager slowly walked down the hall snarling under his breath, staring into the eyes of each guest with a mist of red ivy. One guest fainted as he went past, unable to stand the tension. Others smiled awkwardly like a pack of hyenas. I found myself whispering under my own breath, what I couldn’t make out. The hotel manager’s ears pricked up but detected nothing of note.  

‘’I will have my revenge!’’ the hotel manager shrieked and walk off down the hall. I shut the door to my room and made myself a coffee, opened my window and then sat on my bed. The evening air drifted in and reminded me of old dreams that occasionally become reality. I took a sip of coffee and then tapped on the wall in a certain sequence knowing the rats would understand. One of the rats poked its head out from the hole in the corner, its eyes wide in cautious curiosity. Just as I was about to speak there was a knock at the door. A soft, almost serene knock. I answered the door and it was a woman with long black hair smiling indefinitely.  

‘’ I know you keep the rats in here.’’ She said excitingly.  

‘’What?’  

‘’Don’t worry’’ she said ‘’I do too!’’  

I felt a strange sort of relief.  

‘’Really?’’  

‘’Yes, hundreds of them. Very misunderstood creatures are rats. They have magical qualities, you know?’’  

She told me her name was Matilda and she was staying in room eighteen. She invited me to her room. I accepted and let her lead the way. The floor of her room was scattered with astrology books…’’The dust from stars sprinkle the earth with their forgotten fates…’’ she said mysteriously.  

I wondered where she kept the rats.  

‘’As you can see, I have no time for order. I hope it does not offend you?’’ she said.  

‘’No, why would it?’’  

‘’Some are offended by those confident enough to live without it.’’  

I noticed she was wearing a necklace with a rat’s tail around her neck. It hung down to her breasts. I thought about questioning her but did not have the courage. I was inclined to think she may be a witch. The way to know was to look into her eyes, but I could not stare long enough to get an accurate analysis.  

‘’Do you have much experience with rats?’’ Matilda asked.  

‘’No.’’ I replied.  

‘’My mother was a rat expert and she passed her knowledge on to me. It takes a certain kind of spirit to understand rats. My mother was that rare kind of spirit.’’  

‘’And what kind is that?’’  

‘’…Heavenly.’’  

I thought she must have been some sort of celestial being.  

After a silence I began to hear the sound of tuneful snoring. The sound nailed itself to my face and my heart rattled like an eclipse.  

‘’What is that sound?’’ I asked  

‘’That is the sound of rats sleeping.’’  

‘’I see…’’  

‘’They shall be waking soon…’’  

Matilda then went into the bathroom. I walked over to the window.  The view was much more stimulating than the view my room offered to my senses. It was like a garden made from the last dawn of the skeleton earth.  

Matilda came out of the bathroom. With her came approximately a hundred rats. There were two sat on each of her shoulders and one sitting on the crown of her head. The rest found a space wherever they could.  

‘’The rats are well rested and are ready for the evenings events.’’ Matilda said.  

I nodded and smiled.  

She went on…’’Some of these rats are of royal descent. They are of the aristocracy. The rat on my head is the king of the sewers of New York. ’’  

I did not know what to say to such claims or if I should bow in the presence of such lineage. I decided to not move at all. Matilda gazed at me with a look of suspense. As if she was working out if I could handle whatever she had in mind.  

‘’The hotel manager wants revenge! We must come up with a plan.’’ Matilda said with some authority.  

Which made me feel quite anxious.  

‘’What do you think he has in mind?’’ I asked.  

‘’ I hear rumours he has hired an assassin!’’  

‘’ An assassin?’’

‘’Yes, an assassin. And he is due tonight.’’  

The rat’s tails stood to attention. Stiff as stainless steel…Matilda made a speech that lasted two hours. The rat’s listened attentively and did not once lose focus. They hung on every word. Her voice made no hesitations.  

In a very short time the atmosphere changed. I ventured out into the hall. There was nothing but the sound of a fly hitting its head against the ceiling. I could feel the hot breath of some creature luring near.  

‘’Those damned rats are mine!’’ a voice shrieked. It was the hotel manager. Stomping around like an elephant on heat. By his side was an overweight cat standing on two legs. His fur was dirty and he had a scar across his chest. it's soft violence lingered down the hall like smoke.

‘’Now be a good kitty and do what I paid you to do’’  

The cat moved slowly and breathed heavily. Every couple of steps he coughed and his face turned purple.  

Matilda came out of her room and the rats followed suit. The cat’s eyes widened like electric stars. He went down on all fours ready to pounce…The rats stood their ground.  

‘’Kill the bloody things!’’ The hotel manager shouted.  

I thought there may be a bloodbath.  

The cat got ready to leap and when he leapt forward he moved no further than an inch and fell flat on his stomach, stretched out like a mournful child on the last days of summer.  

‘’Now’’ Matilda screamed.  

The rats descended upon the hotel manager. They covered his whole body. There was nothing left of him. There was not even an ear sticking out. I could hear his muffled panic which got no further than the back of his teeth. The rats dragged and carried his body down to the basement where Matilda tied him up.  

She wondered what to do with him.  

She looked into his eyes as tears like comets slid down his face. Matilda felt no mercy. The common ground of saint-hood was non-existent. The hotel manager begged for his safety. Matilda ignored his pleas. Her spirit was like stone.  

‘’If you wish…’’ Matilda said to me ‘’I can take you to the sewers of London to meet the royal line of England?’’  

‘’No, thanks’’ I said

I then decided to go to bed and leave Matilda and the rats to do whatever they decided with the hotel manager.  

That night in my dream an angel came to me and said: ‘’you must give the cat a home and cherish its spirit as the stars cherish the sky.’’  

But by morning the cat was nowhere to be seen.  

Years later I re-visted the hotel. Its windows were boarded up and its bricks had settled themselves into the shadows of its history. The only residual energy of its history that remained distinguished was the faint sound of The Second Waltz by Shostakovich which lingered like a prayer in the wind.  

Reviews

[Haley]

What a great and interesting read. It kept me captivating and had a good low and pace. For me it really speaks to how what some may view as trash others view as magical. In this case, the rats were trash for the most part, but with the narrator & witch's love and care they were more, they were something big and powerful. Really interesting and can be read in many different ways! Great job!

[emmajoy]

Where or where do your find the themes for your stories!!!! What an extraordinary tale wrapped in the title of 'The Second Waltz of Shostakovich in the first instance is a lure for those who want to be lured into reading something other than a fantasy about rats. That said, I read without stopping, brain beaten, wondering if this was a nightmare ~ thinking it might be. Even now wondering how you wrote this, was it pre planned, did the words write themselves.. what, how?! To say the story is weird but mesmerising is as best as i can say. Will now sit quietly and recite Humpty dumpty to take me down to earth again.

[Danny Metcalfe]

I have no idea where it comes from. I let the words lead me to wherever they wish to roam.