The next morning Romero gently nudged Randy awake. His touch was hesitant, almost tender.
"Will is very ill," he said. "We have to go see him."
Randy jolted out of bed, dressed quickly and hurried across town with his father.
When they arrived at Will's apartment building, the stairs leading to his tiny home were crowded with a somber gathering. Will's siblings, including Ruda, who was choking the entryway, stood huddled together up the tunnel leading to the apartment. Randy and his father ascended the tunnel, squeezing by and noticing neighbours peering from their doors, inching forward to get a peek and an earful of what was happening inside.
As Randy and Romero reached Will’s apartment, they heard him shouting, slurring his words. "I don't want to see any of you! Except for Randy and Rosalinthhh!" his fake teeth slipped and slid with every syllable, which made the mice outside chuckle briefly until Rosaline shot them with an angry look.
Romero and Randy pushed their way inside. The apartment’s quirky charm had given way to a heavy, suffocating sadness. Will managed to pull himself up in bed with great effort and pleaded to be alone with Randy. Romero’s jaw tightened and he wanted to object, but Rosaline gently pulled him away.
"How are you, Randy?" Will asked. His breath was laboured and his eyes looked feverish.
"I'm good," Randy replied. He wanted to ask for more stories, but the words caught in his throat; the mood of the room made him feel too selfish to ask for entertainment.
But Will anticipated his nephew's unspoken question.
"You probably want me to tell you more tales about The Wild, don't you?" he whispered, a faint smile flickering across his lips.
Randy nodded enthusiastically.
Will shook his head, his smile fading. "What you see now is the end of my story, Randy. It’s up to you to continue where I left off," he said, barely audible. “You must set out one day, when you're older, and find The Place Where The Sun Meets The Earth. That's where you will find true happiness. I know it in my heart."
Randy was conflicted listening to his uncle’s words. He didn't want to admit it, not even to himself, but he had secretly aspired to be more like Tiny than Will. He wanted to make his own perfect place.
"Why are you saying these things?" Randy asked, grasping his uncle’s arm tightly. "I thought we could go to The Wild together."
Will laughed weakly. "That’s nice of you to say, but we both know that would never be possible." With a visible effort, Will opened a nearby cabinet, its hinges groaning in protest. He reached inside and, after a moment of rummaging, retrieved a pale orange object as big as his own head.
"This is a piece of peach. It's the sweetest thing you'll find around here," Will said, staring at the piece like some morbid treasure he had just unearthed.
Randy's jaw dropped, his legs trembling beneath him. He had never seen a peach up close or whiffed that sweet smell before. The scent was intoxicating.
Will winked at his nephew and broke the peach in two, the sound a soft, juicy rip. He offered half to Randy, the fleshy fruit gleaming invitingly in the dim light.
Randy hesitated, torn between his ingrained fear of the unknown and the overwhelming allure of the sweet, fragrant fruit. He glanced towards the door, half-expecting Rosaline to burst in and confiscate the peach with a stern lecture about the dangers of "Wild food."
Will gave Randy a look of gentle encouragement, a silent invitation to a world of forbidden pleasure. "Try it. It's good."
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With trembling paws, Randy reached out and took the offering. It felt soft and yielding in his grasp, the skin velvety and slightly damp. He brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply, the sweet aroma filling his senses. He wondered what his parents would say. But then he banished the thought. This was for him. This was his moment of rebellion, his first step into the unknown.
He took his first bite.
The soft, yielding skin gave way to a burst of sweet, flowing juices that exploded on his tongue. It was like nothing he had ever tasted before. Not the bland cheese he was forced to endure every day. This was pleasure — pure, unadulterated, glorious pleasure.
Randy closed his eyes, savouring the taste, the texture, the sheer wrongness of it all. It was forbidden, dangerous, and utterly divine.
He fell in love with sweets at that moment, a love that would shape the rest of his life. He knew, with a certainty that settled deep in his bones, that he had to explore The Wild, to discover more of these forbidden delights, to experience a life beyond the monotonous routine of Villagloriosa. No cheese, no matter how artfully sculpted or aged, could ever compare. For the first time, eating wasn't a duty, a chore to be endured. It was an experience to be savoured, a joy to be pursued.
Randy finished his piece of peach in a frenzy, his eyes shining with desire. He watched Will as he struggled to chew his half of the fruit with his ill-fitting dentures.
"I can't eat all this. You have it," Will offered, his face turning to one side in ragged gasps.
Randy wanted to say yes. He wanted to devour every last morsel of this heavenly fruit. But a flicker of decency held him back.
"No, Uncle. You should eat it," he managed to say.
Will smiled, then slid lower in bed, his breathing growing more laboured.
"There's nothing like the taste of sweet, Randy…" he whispered, his eyes slowly closing for the last time, a smile perpetually etched in his face.
Randy thought his uncle had simply fallen asleep. He backed away slowly, unsure what to do, a strange unease settling over him.
The silence stretched on. Will’s grip on the peach loosened, and then… the pearl around Randy’s neck lit brightly. Randy looked at it and knew with a chilling certainty that his uncle was gone. He was dead, and yet somehow the pearl made Randy feel that it would be okay, that his uncle would always be with him as long as that pearl was around his neck. Instead of grief, he felt a strange sense of peace.
The pearl stopped shining and Randy stood there, frozen, trying to digest what was happening to him. Without thinking, he took the remaining peach from his uncle’s hand and was about to eat it. Then, Rosaline burst back into the room.
"Randy!" she whispered harshly, her gaze fixed on the peach in his paw. She lunged forward, her hand outstretched, trying to snatch the fruit away. But Randy wouldn’t let go of the precious last gift from his uncle.
Romero followed close behind. He saw Rosaline trying to snatch the peach from Randy’s hands and a strangled cry escaped his lips.
"Give me that, Randy!" he yelled as he moved to help Rosaline wrestle the fruit from him.
“Uncle Will is dead,” Randy said as he held on to the peach, causing his parents to stop and look at Will’s body.
The noise attracted the attention of the other mice gathered outside. They flooded into the room, observing the scene with morbid fascination. They saw Randy, the forbidden fruit clutched in his paw, and the stillness of Will's body, and the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place.
"Oh no… oh no! He is dead. He really is dead." Rosaline collapsed in a heartbroken sob.
Romero grabbed his son by the shoulders and pierced him with a stare. "Did you eat that?!” he demanded.
Randy hesitated. Should he lie? Should he deny his actions?
Then, a surge of defiance flared within him. "Yes, I did! And it was marvelous!"
The other mice gasped, their faces twisting in horror.
Romero's face contorted with rage. "I told you this was a bad idea," he snarled at Rosaline. "A horrible idea!"
"Shut up!" Rosaline yelled, silencing the murmuring crowd. Randy had never seen her so utterly consumed by rage.
"How did he get a piece of peach if he was sick…?" Ruda inquired, her eyes burning into Rosaline.
"Leave the room! All of you, leave!" Rosaline screamed, the sound echoing through the tiny apartment. "He didn't want you here while he was alive; I doubt he'd want you now."
Romero turned and stormed out of the apartment, followed by the silent, judging procession of the other mice. Rosaline collapsed onto the floor, her sobs filling the void. Randy rushed to her side, offering what comfort he could.
Rosaline hugged him tightly, whispering in his ear. "It's okay, baby. It's okay. But never again, yes? Promise Mum."
Randy looked up at his mother, his own eyes starting to mist. He loved her. But he couldn't make that promise. Not now. Not ever.