After the family's Christmas Eve celebration, Nathan's mom took the shiny device she had found on the floor beneath the kitchen table and placed it back into the package she found. As much as Nathan liked his video games, she was at a loss to explain why he had been so careless with it. After packing the device in its original carton, she headed to the door leading to the basement.
Her husband met her at the door. "Where are you going?"
She explained she meant to put the expensive-looking toy into storage. "Nathan can have it back when he's a bit more responsible," she said.
"Do you want me to take it down to the basement for you?" He offered.
"No, I'll do it," she said. "Why don't you try calling Nathan one more time. I can't understand why he wouldn't be here for the Christmas Eve party. It is a family tradition."
"You know him," her husband said.
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The little mouse heard the heavy steps on the stairs leading into its basement realm. Whiskers twitched as it tested the air for any hint of the cat's scent. No cat, but it did register a smell that seemed oddly familiar. A strong perfume wafted ahead of the giant woman as she moved toward the row of shelves.
The little mouse cowered in the shadows and watched the giant hand move aside some cartons. She put another carton on the shelf. The mailing label on the cardboard box would once have produced an excited reaction from human Nathan, but the little mouse had no comprehension of any meaning behind the words on the label.
His mother started to leave when she saw a tiny white form scurry deeper into the shadows. She wasn't a woman to scream at the sight of a mouse. Instead, she spoke in a deliberate voice. "You better enjoy your Christmas, little pest," she said. "Tomorrow I will be back with some mouse traps."
The words piercing the silence and gloom of the basement provoked a teeny squeak as the mouse fled. The woman made a note to place at least one of the traps on the shelf where she had seen the mouse. She also saw plenty of fresh mouse droppings littering the shelf, so she knew the pest must spend a lot of time crawling among the cardboard cartons storing family mementos and other items.
"Dear, I've poured us a couple of brandies if you'd care for a nightcap," Nathan's father called down to his wife.
"Thanks, dear," she said. "I'm coming right up. Did you reach Nathan?"
"No," came her husband's reply. "I have no idea where that boy's gotten to."
The man's louder words, although more distant, frightened the little mouse as it hid out of sight.
She frowned at the shelves, but knew she was being silly. How much harm could one little mouse cause overnight? She could wait until tomorrow to take steps to remove the pest from her home.
After the giant woman had gone, the tiny mouse crept back into the open. The large package she had placed on the shelf attracted its attention. It used tiny white paws to climb onto the package. Something about the scent transmitted something familiar to the rodent's puny brain, but to save it's life, it couldn't figure out why the box spoke to it in such a powerful way.
It was only the scent of some stale crumbs beneath the towering flight of stairs that drew the little mouse off the shelf. It enjoyed its Christmas Eve feast of crumbs, oblivious to the fact its means of restoration rested only a few feet away, sealed back inside its original packaging. The resources in the basement were meager at best. Despite the lingering fear of the predatory cat, the little mouse might have to venture out of the basement to feed itself.