Page 7 - My FlipBook

I curl up in my palace of wool and listen. What I hear is amazing: silence. No people
yelling ‘Kill the blue mouse!’ No cats purring ‘Mav-eee far-eee come out and play-ayy.”
None of those sounds. Just silence.

But my reverie is broken by the sound of the door opening. I go still.

The grey man speaks, “I see you have enjoyed your dinner, little mavi fare. I will leave
more when I am gone. And I will refill the water. As well, I am leaving another handful
of wool for your nest. I will bring more of that as well. Plenty for the largest nest you
will ever need to build. And you can live here in peace and luxury for as long as you
want. No brooms to crush you. No cats to eat you. So long as you promise never to
gnaw on my carpets. Not even the smallest, tiniest nibble.”

Though he could not see me, I nod. I understand and very much appreciate his
hospitality. Not one nibble. Use only the wool left in a pile by the bread.

Except for the nod, I remain still until I hear the door open and close again and, even
then, for a long while afterwards.

I am so happy to escape the Blue Mosque and be free from the brooms and cats. I am
also happy to have a full belly and a large, comfortable nest. But I am not fully content.
Even making my nest larger would not make me content. I need to find that small carpet.
That small flying carpet he showed to the first and second man. I need to stand on it,
command it to fly, and leave Istanbul and all of Turkey. To find a place where mice
would be free from men and women, brooms and cats. To find a place ruled by mice. If I
fly far enough and long enough, I will find that place. If not, I will make that place
myself.

Tomorrow, I will find the flying carpet. Tomorrow. But tonight I am tired, warm and
fat. Tonight I will sleep peacefully for the first time in my life. Tonight I will rest before
my big journey. Because today I have escaped from the Blue Mosque. And tomorrow I
will begin the quest for the Great Mouse Place. And I will not stop until I find it. So
swears the Blue Mouse of Istanbul. So swears Mavi Fare.

And that, my little mouse children, is the story, in his own paws, of Mavi Fare’s escape
from the Blue Mosque of Istanbul. The rest of the sacred histories, as you know, were
written by others and detail Mavi Fare’s search for the Great Mouse Place, his
adventures on the only true flying carpet in the world, his teachings, and his place in both
Mouse and, of lesser importance, human and cat history. But these are stories well
known to many of you. If you have not yet heard them, then I shall read them to you, as
best I can … but on another night. For it is late and you need to get your sleep. Your
little mouse sleep. Otherwise, you might not have enough energy to avoid the next broom
or the next cat that comes your way.

Go to sleep, my little mice. Sleep still, my little mice. Curl up your long tails and fold up
your big ears, my little mice. And, like Mavi Fare, dream big dreams…