rip rata
the first apartment i lived in after two years in a dormitory was on n kimball ave and w parker ave in 2012. it was the largest and cleanest (aka most expensive) apartment i ever lived in: 3 bedrooms, 2 full baths, an alcove behind the kitchen that had right facing corner windows, decent sized porch with privacy, and a large living room with white built-in bookcases framing a painted over decorative fireplace.
that year i took a summer course since that was the only condition my father granted if i wanted to stay in chicago and not go back to my mother’s home. that was an easy decision to make because going back there meant being bossed around by her at home and at work. horrible hot fudge causing scent confusion after a 9 hour shift, the brick freezer where i would unconsciously time how long i could handle being inside with the extra cartons of ice cream and pre-cut cake slices (felt like 5 minutes—realistically maybe 2 minutes)… these memories felt visceral. i did not want to compound that memory for a third year in a row.
the summer course started at 9am and ended at 12pm. there is an alley that you can cut through to save yourself time walking on milwaukee ave/kimball ave and vice versa. the first time i saw the rat was walking back after class.
it was perfectly dead— rigor mortis laid it on it’s right cheek to the ground, exposed incisors, and claws poised in a way to show it was once a terrifying rodent. i had seen plenty of roadkill and witnessed a deer fly upon impact of a car, it’s part of the package of growing up in a densely forested suburb. i naively thought, “first part of nature will take over aka other creatures will forage the edible bits of el rata, leaving just carcass. second part of nature aka the elemental swampy heat will turn it into some type of debris.” i went on with the rest of my day and completely forgot about the deceased creature when it was time to sleep.
the next morning i remembered everything since i was horrified to see it still completely intact about 12 hours later. maybe el rata was filled with poison and the street smart animal kingdom knew it? maybe they don’t even forage on rats when there’s a mcdonald’s less than a block away? new questions spewed as a result so i reworked my curiosity to being open to any possibility that would eventually cease el rata.
under the unforgivable heat, rata was in the best condition to disintegrate undisturbed. the three dimensional being started to sink closer to the gravel, paws giving out first like a collapsed birthday candle lit for too long. it’s hybrid fur of brown and grey undertones turned black. fur and flesh morphed into a deathly look of lava that spread so slowly during that lapse. rata decayed into a black blob. before the 6 week course ended, rata transformed as a completely flat black spot in the alley.
i questioned my own account of reality as a witness to this revelation. who else took this shortcut and noticed el rata? did they share the same morbid idea or did they not even think twice? were all the black spots in the city remainders of death? were they all ratas? is it possible these spots could a space for leftover gum and a resting place for rot? there is so much stimulation and reminders of existence when living in a city, how can one not be enthralled?
the first time i ever told anyone this story was in april 2022. her reply was disbelief. not sure what reaction i was seeking from recalling this decade old specific core chicago memory. maybe confidence that nature has the power to deform an individual into unrecognizable ooze.