In the days that followed his eye-opening encounter with Will, Randy found himself in a state of near-constant agitation. He couldn't wait to see his uncle again, to hear more tales of The Wild, to bask in the presence of someone who didn't think cheese was the answer to all of life's problems.
He pestered Rosaline relentlessly, his tiny voice an incessant, high-pitched whine that grated on her nerves.
But Rosaline remained unmoved. Will, she insisted, was "resting" and shouldn't be disturbed. The way she said "resting," though, with a slight tremor in her voice and a shifty glance in Randy's direction, made him deeply suspicious. Was Will really resting? What was going on?
Then, one day, Rosaline announced that she was going to visit Will. Randy enthusiastically begged to accompany her.
"You'll stay here with your father," she declared, her voice leaving no room for argument.
Randy groaned, but he knew better than to argue with Rosaline when she adopted that particular tone. And so, he was left to endure his father's silent, disapproving stares, his mind consumed with worry for his uncle and a burning curiosity about what was going on.
When Rosaline returned that evening, he could sense that something was amiss. She offered him cheese — her usual way of greeting him after any separation — but tonight, she did so with a strange detachment. Her gaze was unfocused, her movements jerky. Most tellingly, she didn't insist when he politely declined, a truly unprecedented event.
Her face was drawn. Her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, as if she'd been crying for a long time.
Randy's worry deepened into genuine alarm. "Everything okay, Mum?" he asked with hesitation.
Rosaline forced a brittle, shaky smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Of course, dear. Everything's fine. Tomorrow's your uncle's birthday. We're going to throw him a surprise party. Right here!" She gestured around their tiny apartment with a lacklustre flourish.
Randy felt a surge of excitement. A surprise party for Uncle Will! He leapt into his mother's arms, hugging her tightly, his tail thumping against the floor with unbridled joy. "That's a brilliant idea, Mum!"
Rosaline hugged him, her embrace fierce and desperate, and for a fleeting moment, Randy felt a pang of unease. Her joy seemed forced, almost frantic. But he quickly dismissed his worries. A party for Will. It was going to be wonderful!
The next day dawned, and Rosaline began her preparations. She gathered every scrap of cheese in the apartment, every rind, every crumb, every forgotten morsel, and transformed them into a staggering display. There were different types of cheeses cut into every shape imaginable, and enough of it to feed at least thirty or forty mice. Randy eyed the mountain of dairy products with dread. But then he remembered Aunt Ruda was coming, and a sliver of hope flickered within him. If anyone could make a dent in that cheese mountain, it was Ruda.
The table groaned under the weight of the cornucopia of different cheeses. There were cured, mild, strong, white, orange, stretchy cheeses, all shaped into whimsical forms. Randy could barely sit still, bubbling with excitement. He paced, fidgeted, and generally drove Rosaline to distraction with his incessant questions.
"When will Uncle get here, Mum? Is it time yet? When will he be here? Is he here yet?"
Rosaline shooed him away. "He'll be here soon, Randy. Just wait. Remember, it's a surprise party. Everyone has to arrive before him." She had invited all her siblings and anyone who remotely knew Will, a rather optimistic endeavor considering the general coolness with which he was regarded in Villagloriosa. But Rosaline, ever the optimist, had remained hopeful.
Minutes ticked by, but no guests arrived. The cheese, in its various forms, sat glistening under the candlelight, a silent reminder of Rosaline's efforts and the distinct lack of attendees.
"Where's Dad?" Randy asked with a growing unease.
Rosaline hesitated, her gaze flickering towards the door. "He's…uh… he's working, dear. Maybe he'll come later, like the others."
But no other guests came, except for one, Aunt Ruda. She waddled in, sweating profusely from the exertion, gave a perfunctory greeting, and then promptly dived headfirst into the cheese buffet. With each passing week, Randy could swear she was expanding ever wider; no one in town was fatter.
"Well, that's one guest," Randy said, his attempt at cheerfulness sounding rather hollow.
Rosaline wrung her paws nervously.
"We all have to shout 'surprise!' when he comes in, okay?" she said, her tone a little too bright and too forced.
Randy nodded emphatically. Ruda grunted in agreement through a mouth full of cheese, which might have been a yes or a no, it was hard to tell.
"Surprise? What surprise?"
Will stood there, framed by the dim light of the hallway, confused and mildly amused. "Sorry to barge in, but the door was open."
Rosaline's face fell. Ruda, in her single-minded pursuit of cheese, had failed to close the door.
"Oh," Rosaline gasped, her eyes darting towards Ruda with a look that could curdle milk faster than a hot summer day.
"Surprise!" Randy shouted in a desperate attempt to inject some enthusiasm into the deflating atmosphere. "It's a birthday party for you, Uncle!"
"This is certainly a tremendous amount of cheese for three of us — four, sorry," Will said, his gaze sweeping over the laden table, then acknowledging Ruda with a forced smile. She waved a paw lazily, her attention firmly fixed on the business of gorging.
"Please, sit," Rosaline said, herding Will towards the table. "Let's have a party to remember!" Her forced cheerfulness, her overly bright smile, her desperate attempts to make conversation… it all struck Randy as odd.
Will played along, his polite smile masking a hint of sadness. He knew no one else was coming. He knew this party, meant to celebrate his return, was a rather pathetic affair, but he was glad nonetheless to be there.
"You didn't have to do all this, Rosaline," he said gently. "Although I appreciate it."
"Nonsense! Who knows how many birthdays you spent alone out there? We're happy to have you back," Rosaline declared, a tad too loud, as she scanned the empty table with a growing sense of despair.
"You were always my favourite sister, Rosaline," Will said, his gaze softening as he looked at her, then giving a dismissive flick of his tail towards Ruda, who remained blissfully unaware of the social awkwardness unfolding around her, her face buried in a mountain of cheese.
Rosaline forced another smile to conceal the sadness in her eyes, and then her gaze landed on Randy. He was sitting quietly, mechanically picking at a small piece of cheese.
"Randy!" she snapped, making him jump. "Eat more cheese!"
"But I'm not hungry," he protested, his eyes fixed on Ruda, whose cheeks were bulging to an alarming degree.
"Don't argue. Just eat," Rosaline said, her tone leaving no room for debate.
"But Uncle Will isn't eating either," Randy pointed out with a hint of defiance.
"Uncle Will isn't growing anymore; he doesn't need as much."
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"What about Aunt Ruda? She's not growing either, and she's eating more than all of us," Randy persisted.
"Randy, I've told you a thousand times not to be so cheeky." Rosaline's patience was clearly wearing thin.
"It's alright, Rosaline. Let him eat at his own pace. Our bodies know when we're hungry," said Will.
Ruda, in a rare moment of agreement, nodded enthusiastically, her eyes never leaving the cheese. The less they ate, the more for her, after all.
"I don't know what to do with him," Rosaline sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Mice need cheese to grow strong and wise."
"That's not entirely true," Will said tentatively, his gaze meeting Randy's. "I met mice in The Wild who never ate cheese and were more educated, civilised, and stronger than many here."
Ruda, her mouth half-full of cheese, paused her feasting to glare at Will. "Our leader Euphemia says only feral mice don't eat cheese — and she's right, Euphemia is always right," she declared, spraying tiny cheese particles with every word.
Rosaline, sensing the escalating tension, stepped in quickly. "Let me get you some more of that stretchy cheese, Ruda," she said as she moved to refill Ruda's plate.
"I like those square cheeses," Ruda grumbled, pointing with a cheese-coated paw towards an empty tray of cheddar cubes. "They taste better."
"What else is there to eat in The Wild, Uncle?" Randy asked, trying to sound casual.
"Lots! Vegetables, pastries, fruits—" Will began, his enthusiasm growing with each example.
"Rosaline!" Ruda bellowed, interrupting him mid-sentence. "Did you find those square cheeses?"
"Coming!" Rosaline called back, as she scurried to appease Ruda's insatiable appetite.
"This is too much, dear," Will said, his gaze sweeping over the remaining cheese. "How will we finish it?"
"More guests will come," Rosaline insisted hopefully.
"Dear sister, we know no one else will come. It's fine. Everyone who matters is here," Will said, clearly eyeing Randy and Rosaline.
Rosaline's eyes welled with tears, her lower lip trembling. "Let's eat!" she managed to choke out, cracking slightly.
Ruda, having demolished her first plate, burped loudly, signalling her satisfaction.
"Thank you," Rosaline said, her smile wavering.
"In most places in The Wild, burping is considered rude," Will said, his tone conversational. "It surprised me how many different views and values the world holds."
Ruda glared at him, her whiskers bristling. "We don't need your crazy stories, brother. Euphemia says The Wild is terrible, and Villagloriosa is the most perfect place there is. No one here wants to become feral or die in some beast's jaw."
Will's small ear twitched, a sign of his amusement. "So you were listening? I thought you just came to eat. Please, continue your wise speech."
Ruda, her face turning a rather unbecoming shade of purple, was about to retort, but Rosaline interceded. "Will, please, let's not talk of The Wild. It's a dangerous topic, especially for Randy," she pleaded, her eyes fixed on her son with a desperate intensity.
"Knowledge isn't dangerous, Rosaline. Ignorance is," Will said, giving a passing look at the gorging Ruda.
"But he doesn't need that knowledge. It will only confuse him," Rosaline's voice was rising, her control slipping.
"Confuse him? Isn't he confused now? Look at him. He's different from the mice here. He can't be someone he's not," Will's gaze softened as it rested on Randy.
"I don't want him to get ideas about The Wild. What if he leaves and never comes back? What if something horrible happens to him?" Rosaline's fear finally spilled out into the open.
"I know much about The Wild, but you never ask. You judge without experience. Your ideas are based on lore and fantasies spun by ignorant mice and Euphemia," Will said, getting visibly exasperated.
"There are evil rats in The Wild!" Ruda interjected. "Rats that will kill and eat you!"
"My dear Ruda, I've met many rats, and not all are as bad as you describe."
"You met rats, Uncle Will?" Randy asked, his tone betraying a morbid fascination.
"Enough!" Rosaline's anger finally erupted. She took a deep breath, visibly calming herself. "I have a gift for you, brother. I'll get it now."
She retreated to the kitchen and returned moments later, her paws trembling slightly, carrying a large block of soft cheese, its surface adorned with flickering candles. She nudged Ruda to stop eating and start singing.
"Happy birthday to you!
Here is a big cheese for you,
Give me some, don't be greedy,
Don't you make me feel needy!"
Randy, clapping enthusiastically, sang along, his voice loud and cheerful, trying to inject some much-needed joy into the increasingly strained atmosphere. When the song ended, Randy urged Will to blow out the candles. Will took a deep breath and blew with all his might, his uneven whiskers flapping wildly. All the candles went out, except for one, which flickered stubbornly, pretending to die only to reignite with renewed vigor. Will blew again and again, his face turning an alarming shade of crimson, but the candle persisted.
"Okay, one more time," Will said, inhaling deeply, his chest heaving with exertion. He blew until his face was so red it looked like it might explode. And then, something utterly unexpected happened, something that would forever be etched in Randy's memory. Will's dentures, dislodged by the force of his breath, flew out of his mouth in a rather spectacular arc, and landed with a soft plop on the cheese, extinguishing the stubborn candle.
A stunned silence fell over the table, broken only by the faint dripping of candle wax. Then, Will, his toothless grin stretching across his face, said solemnly, "Well, that did it."
Randy burst into laughter, the sound high-pitched and slightly hysterical. Will joined him, his toothless grin grotesque yet somehow endearing. Even Rosaline, her initial shock giving way to amusement, couldn't help but laugh as well. Only Ruda looked horrified; she was reliving a particularly unpleasant nightmare involving her sitting at a cheese feast without teeth.
At least no one else saw this, Rosaline thought, her cheeks still flushed with embarrassment.
Will, after retrieving his teeth and carefully placing them back in his mouth (a process that involved much clicking and adjusting), tentatively tasted the cheese.
"This isn't sweet," he said, disappointed. "Everywhere else, birthday cakes are always sweet."
"What does sweet taste like?" Randy asked eagerly.
"Please, Rosaline," Will implored, his eyes pleading. "Give us something sweet. Fruit, at least."
Rosaline hesitated, her gaze flickering between her brother and her son. "Sweets are illegal here, Will," she said firmly.
"They weren't illegal until your dearly beloved Mayor Euphemia forced us into her cult of cheese," Will snarled, his earlier good humour replaced by a simmering anger.
Ruda, gasped, her face etched with outrage, stopping her chewing mid-chomp. "Euphemia is a wonderful mouse and a great cheese maker!" she declared, her mouth still saturated with cheese, her eyes blazing with righteous indignation. "She knows a thousand ways to make cheese!"
"And you could eat every one of them in one sitting," Will retorted, his tone acerbic.
"Before Euphemia helped us see the light of Glorioso’s righteous path and brought us milk and cheese, the town was a chaotic mess of hungry, unhappy, crazy mice. We must be grateful," Rosaline said, trying to diffuse the escalating tension.
"Nowhere else are sweets forbidden! It's ludicrous — stupid town with stupid rules," Will declared, his fury mounting.
"Then why did you come back?" Rosaline asked, her voice brimming with a raw, almost wounded pain. "And the friend you left with, where is he? He's dead, isn't he? Or has he gone mad in The Wild?"
"He is lost," Will said, his eyes glazing over as he looked back into the past. Rosaline continued without listening.
"I won't give you something that could hurt you, and I won't let my son follow your dangerous path. I'm sorry, Will."
"You're being selfish," Will said.
"Selfish? After this party? Who else does more for you than I do in this town, Will?" she cried, her small fists slamming down on the table.
"Yes, selfish. You only give me what you want me to like. Did you bring me here to see if I'd become a cheese fanatic before I…?" he trailed off, then continued, almost pleading. "I don't need to be redeemed, I just want to be happy."
A heavy silence descended upon the room, even Ruda had stopped her munching and was glowering at Will.
"There are no sweets in Villagloriosa. Only cheese," Rosaline's eyes fixed on Randy, a silent warning in their depths.
"The peach tree is still there," Will countered with a challenging flick of his eyes.
"That tree is forbidden, Will," Rosaline cut sharply.
"Mum, why are sweets bad?" Randy asked, breaking the tense silence.
"They make you an imbecile, like your uncle," Ruda snorted.
"They're not bad, Randy," Will said, toning down his anger for Randy. "They make you feel good and alive… especially when you're lonely."
Rosaline went silent, her gaze softening as she looked at her brother. She realised with a pang of guilt that no one truly understood Will. He was alone, and now she was denying him even the small comfort he sought.
"Maybe," Ruda said, "if you hadn't eaten so many sweets in The Wild, you wouldn't have lost your teeth. Maybe then, more mice would like you. You're the problem, Will, not this town."
Will winced. "Right," he said quietly, his gaze fixed on the floor. "I'm going to bed. Thanks for everything, Rosaline. Randy, come see me sometime. I have a present for you."
He turned and walked slowly out of the room, his shoulders slumped with a weariness that mirrored the sadness in Rosaline's eyes. She felt a familiar dread creeping into her heart, the same chilling premonition she had felt the day Will left Villagloriosa moons ago.
"Randy," she tapped her son on the shoulder, "why don't you walk your uncle home and stay with him tonight?"
Randy's face lit up with pure joy. That was exactly what he wanted.