"Welcome to yer first day on the job, boy," Al said when they reached the fish market, crowded with early goers, fog, and of course fish. "Now's the time we lay down rules. I want ye to do everything I say, when I say it, without questioning it."

"Isn't that what everyone wants?"

Al chuckled as they walked under the human carts and over to the rodent sized stands. "Smarty, aren't ye? I think I made a fine choice in a helper. Now," Al said, dropping his normal smooth pretense, "in all seriousness, ye need to keep up with me and pay attention. Me business might seem harmless at first, but I assure ye it can get messy."

Padraic nodded and stood up straight so as to keep alert. "What do we do first?"

Al rubbed his chin and looked around the market. His toothy grin spread at the sight of a tall mouse opening up his stand for the day. "We start by cashin' in on a favor." Al strode forward, walking stick in hand and Padraic following close behind. The mouse had bent down to mess with something and didn't see Al until he stood up once more. When he saw the huge rat he paled.

"What are ye doing here?" he whispered frantically.

"Morning to you too, Jed."

"If they see me talking to you-!"

"Then ye'd best make sure they don't see. Now can we make this quick? I don't have all day."

Jed grunted and stomped his foot on the ground impatiently. Padraic watched it all with piqued interest.

"What do ye want?"

"Not much. I just figured that since I've done favors for you recently, ye could do a thing or two for me."

"Like what?"

"Gimme yer biggest fish for free."

"WHAT?"

Al feigned surprise at the outburst. "No need to yell. If ye can't handle it I understand… Well lookee there! It's old Officer Tom! Oh Tommy boy!"

"Alright, alright, you sick thing!" Jed grumbled, as he hastened to wrap up the biggest mouse sized fish he had. "Ye don't deserve this and ye know it." He handed the fish over. "And I'm only doing 'cause of what ye did for Marcy."

"O'course, Jed. But give it time; ye'll learn to love me!" And with the cheekiest grin of all, Al turned and led Padraic away, toting the fish under his arm.

"Well, boy, what do ye say?"

"I say that you made him give you something, even though he didn't want to."

"And?"

"Can you teach me to do that?"

Al gave one strong, "HA!" and added, "Oh boy, the things we have ahead of us. Here." He dropped the fish into the boy's arms and Padraic staggered under its weight. "We've places to go."

The old rat whistled his way down the street, Padraic struggling along behind him.

"Ye see, boy, the way the world works is through trade. Ye give someone something, ye get something in return, and so on. That's my business. I get things for people, so to speak."

"Then we ain't keepin' the fish?"

"Are you daft? That fish is our ticket to even greater things, you wait and see!"

They spent the rest of the day doing just as Al said: trading, or bartering as Al preferred to call it. The fish was given to a restaurant owner, who gave a bottle of cheap brandy, the brandy was given to a bartender who gave a set of knives, the knives to a butcher, some ham to a baker, some bread to a candle-stick maker. It went on and on, countless items going through countless hands, until Padraic was exhausted from carrying so much.

Some of the traders, like Jed, greeted Al warily. Others met him with a smile and a vigorous handshake. They all had dealt with him before, and all were surprised to see Padraic following him around. One lady had tried to shoo him away before Al explained, and a few people at the bar tried to use him as a target.

"Who yer little shadow there Al?" the butcher had asked while packaging the ham.

"He's me new assistant. Today's his first day; been showing him the tricks of the trade."

The butcher chuckled. "You, getting an assistant… Apprentice is more like. And here I thought ye was gonna die alone."

The comment, while made in jest, seemed to strike a nerve with Al, and they didn't spend much more time there.

Night finally came, and there was just one more place to visit. This time Al did the lifting, holding a small wooden table over his head. "Where to now, Al?"

"We're going to see a friend o' mine. Lives a few blocks over. I think ye'll like him; he reads more'n he breathes."

"Does he have books?"

Al let out a booming, "HA! Does he 'ave books? 'Slike askin' a rat if he has fur."

They reached the place, a tiny hole in the wall a few floors up that could only be reached by a rickety staircase. Al knocked on the round door, still holding the table aloft. A young rat, about twenty or so, came to the door.

"Oh, hello Al, I-" The rat froze at the sight of the table. "Is that…"

"For you? Yes, if ye'd get out o' my way."

The young rat hopped out of the way and Al squeezed through the door, Padraic following close behind. The old rat set the table in the flat's only free space; the only furniture in the room was a worn chair and a globe. Everything else was books: the floor to the ceiling, thick and small, old and new, books. The rat boy's jaw dropped and he instinctively snatched one from a pile and began skimming as quickly as he could; he hadn't seen a real book in ages. Al meanwhile was being repeatedly thanked by the young man.

"Honestly, ye don't know how much this means!" The young man said, nearly laughing with happiness as he began putting books on the table. "Now I have a place to take my notes, and I'll be able to spread out more and- oh Al, I just can't thank ye enough!"

"If ye want to thank me, ye'll hurry up with yer schoolin' and get figuring out how to keep people feelin' young in one o' those sciency labs o' yours. Me bones are killing me these days!"

"Oh, just you wait! Once I finish school I'm going straight to the top! Allergies, coughs, aching bones, I'll fix it all! Why I bet this time we'll get it before the humans do!" He stopped short, looking for something. "Where did Shakespeare go?"

The two adults looked around to find Padraic huddled in the corner, his eyes glued to the pages. "Why, I didn't notice him… Who is he, Al?"

"My new...well I guess ye'd call him an apprentice. He reminds me of you, ye know; loves reading an' all."

Padraic had ignored all of this, occupied instead with trying to understand the centuries old English text. But he was forced to pay attention when the already dim light was blocked with a shadow. He looked up, and Al's friend was standing over him.

"Hello there. My name's Luke," he said, and held out his hand. "What's yours?"

The boy stuck out a hand, carefully. "Padraic James Ratigan."

Al rolled his eyes. "Just call him Jim, if ye must, just don't call him by his full name. I'm trying to get him to quit using it."

Luke nodded, understanding. "People around here don't enjoy long words. Best to shorten it. I see you like Shakespeare, yes?"

The boy shrugged. "S'alright. Bit hard to understand."

"You'll get used to it, I'm sure. Now, er…"

Padraic went back to reading as Luke turned around, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "Well, Al, I don't… I don't really seem to have anything worth trading at the moment, I-"

"Oh, stuff it. Ye'll pay when ye can, no sooner. Come on, boy."

"Are you sure?" Luke stammered as Padraic reluctantly got up and handed him the book. "I mean I really don't feel-

"Save it. G'night." Without another word Al stepped out the door. Padraic was about to follow when he felt Luke holding him back. The young man held out the book of Shakespeare's works.

"Here. Al won't take anything, because anything from me would feel like charity, which he hates. But maybe I can help you." He placed the book in Padraic's hands. "Go on and read it. Come back anytime and I'll let you read others, too."

Before something could swoop in and ruin this moment, Padraic grabbed the book and held it. He realized this was the first book he'd acquired honestly. Unable to properly say thank you, he just widened his eyes at Luke, who understood perfectly. The too nodded at one another. They turned and right when Padraic was out the door, Luke turned back and said, "Please. You can't possibly understand what he, Al's, been through… I'm amazed he's taken you in like this. Please, take care of him."

Padraic looked around, eyebrow arched in confusion. Luke's face was pleading. The boy's face relaxed, and he nodded before going down he stairs.

Take care of him? But he's an adult. What am I supposed to-

"Pick up yer feet, boy!"

The two made their way home, the boy trailing behind the old man. When they got to the building Padraic observed that Al had a hard time climbing the stairs.

"Ye alright?" he asked when the old rat practically limped into the apartment.

"Fine. Hip's killin' me though." Al slumped in his chair, teeth gritted.

"...anything I can do?"

Al looked at him curiously. "What do ye mean?"

"Just...can I help you?"

The old rat paused before pointing at the corner table. "Grab the paper for me. And put my hat over there." Padraic did so obediently. Al took the paper and held it close to his face, squinting.

"Why do you hold it like that?" Padraic asked as he set the hat on the table, while on the side pondering again why the hat wasn't to be put on the rack.

"My eyes are going. S'what happens when yer old."

Padraic walked back to Al and sat down on his little stool. "My eyes are fine."

Al peered at him over the paper. "Was that an offer?"

"Depends on if ye except it."

It was hard to tell with the paper in the way, but Padraic thought he saw the trace of a grin. Al folded the paper and tossed it to him. "G'on and have at it. Also," he said, reaching into his coat, "it's bout time we had supper." He produced two small baked potatoes, bought sometime on their route. The spuds had gone cold but would be no less nourishing. Padraic took his, unwrapped and simultaneously ate and read aloud to Al.

Eyes fixed on the paper and his food, Padraic didn't pay attention to his audience. The old rat finished his food quickly and sat, listening. He didn't hear the words so much as the voice itself. If the boy had looked up he might've caught the odd, wistful expression on the rat's face.

After a while Padraic reached a pause and looked up, asking, "How do you know Luke?"

Al blinked a few times, bringing himself back to reality. "I was friends with his parents, a long time ago. Now that he's on his own I try to check up on him now and then. Poor bloke needs someone to look after him."

So this is what they call irony. "Where does he get all of his books?"

"Some were ones he found, some I gave to him. But most were stolen."

"Do you steal?"

"O'course! What rat hasn't?"

"But isn't stealing supposed to be wrong?" The book of fairy tales from his childhood had certainly thought so.

"These days, if yer on the streets, ye either steal or die. Now that ye mention it, I think tomorrow'd be a good day to teach ye proper snitching. The way ye did it the other day won't get ye anywhere."

Padraic yawned and set the paper aside. "Alright."

"Alright. See ya in the mornin'..."

Al hefted himself up and lumbered off to his room, but not before stealing a glance at the boy. Padraic curled up on the floor once, just as he had last night, except that this time he wrapped his arms tightly around his new book, the ghost of a smile on his face. Al shut his bedroom door and sighed. He sat on the old bed and, without looking at it, spoke to the empty space next to him.

"Oh, Mary... What am I doing?"

Sorry about the delay! Just got a new computer and for some reason it won't let me upload anything. Anyway, Enjoy!