Squeak Trap

Scratch, twitch. You wanted a rat? I dropped flat on yellow palms along the cold brick wall, stalking toward the pallet stack. Behind a soggy carton, something gray sat wedged inside a tight gap. Pink tail. Pointed snout. Motionless. Waiting. I folded my long legs underneath, locked my elbows, and lunged. Slap! Both yellow hands slammed down hard over the target. SQUEEEAK! A shrill, wheezing blast of air whistled from its rubber belly into the dirt. A hollow dog toy. A squishy, tooth-dented fake rat. I pressed my weight down again, making it shriek twice more against the asphalt. Caught it. It does not run anymore.