Edward and Sydney

Edward decided that the best place to find a painter to study, would be a paint shop in the big city. He had left his family, everything he knew, to follow his life-long passion. He knew he'd refined his skills as an artist to a certain point but wouldn't be able to further them without studying a great artist. 

If the size of the paint shop wasn't intimidating enough, the moment he saw the old man certainly was.

Wild grey hair, a thick grey moustache that curled up at the corners of his mouth, the old man walked through the paint shop looking like he had once been a great artist, if not still was.

Edward was hidden behind a row of crayons, carefully watching the old man as he made his way towards the checkout counter. 

He was buying fresh canvases, which were so big Edward could hardly believe it. Oh how Edward dreamed of being able to fill a canvas that size.

Edward scampered down from his perch and decided, purely based on instinct, that this was the man to watch. 

He followed the old man as he left the art shop, onto the busy

street with huge boots and shoes thumping around him. Edward made sure to keep out of sight, but successfully tailed

the old man all the way to his apartment. A very tall, decrepit looking building, Edward thought as he scuttled along quietly. It turned out the old man lived in the very top apartment of this building. Edward heaved a huge sigh of relief when they finally got to the front door, Edward swiftly running inside behind the old man as he shut the door.

Edward eyed the wooden ceiling beams above, and quickly scampered up the back of a couch, up the side of a metal ladder that was leaning against a wall, and with a few agile jumps and scurries, made his way to the wooden beam above. He peered over the edge, to assess his vantage point. 

Edward nestled in and watched the old man walk over to his easel at the other end of the room. The old man removed the used canvas on the easel, and placed it at the front of a stack of other used canvases that were leaning against the wall. He placed the new canvas on the easel. It was only now that Edward noticed how discouraged the expression on the old man's face was. He looked tired. Edward crept across the beam to get a better view point of the easel. Suddenly, the telephone rang, startling Edward and the old man. 

"Hello," The old mans voice was soft.

"How are you, Tony?" Edward thought he sounded a little irritable. 

"No, no I told you, I don't have anything for you." The old man said, putting a hand to his forehead and rubbing his temples.

"No it's okay, I'll call you when I do." And he hung up the phone, heaving a great sigh and sitting back into his big chair.

Edward watched as the old man stared at the white, blank canvas in front of him. He put a hand to his chin and shook his head. Edward frowned to himself, wondering if his instincts had been right about this man. 

The gentle daylight that trickled in through the window near the easel was beginning to dwindle. Edward watched the old man squeeze paint out of small tubes into a very old and used pallet. Edward squinted, realising he still didn't have a good viewpoint of the old man and the easel. Edward looked around, and thought he saw a better spot in which he could watch. He scuttled forwards on his beam. Edward was still looking down at the old man as he crept, but out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw something move above him. Edward looked up and saw a newspaper, sitting up as if someone was holding it. At the bottom edge of the paper he saw something that made all his fur stand on end, Edward froze. What looked like a snakes tale was supporting the newspaper. Edward swallowed, but there was suddenly no saliva left in his mouth. He felt his whiskers shivering, and looked up towards the top end of the newspaper. Suddenly the newspaper drooped down, and a huge, 

yellow and black snake was peering over at Edward. The snake was wearing reading glasses and his eyes had grown very large. Edward was frozen.

"Hello," The snake said, in the least terrifying voice you could imagine. Edward couldn't move, he couldn't talk. 

"I'm too old to try and catch a young one like you, relax." The snake used the end of his huge tale to adjust his glasses. He looked through them down onto Edward.

"What's that you have there in your backpack?" He asked leaning forwards. Edward blinked up at him.

"Ah, well, you're..." Edward trailed off, he couldn't fight off the feeling that at any moment the snake was going to attack. 

"Oh you're terrified." the snake said, in a sleepy tone. The snake rested himself against a cushion behind him and picked up the newspaper again, as if he had absolutely no interest.

Edward didn't take his eyes off him. A few moments passed and Edward still didn't move. 

"Oh listen, kid," The snake broke the tension.

"I'm not going to do anything, I ate last week, I'm more than full." Edward didn't know what to do, but his heartrate seemed

to be slowing down.

"Paintbrushes" Edward blurted out. The snake peered over his glasses at Edward.

"In my backpack," said Edward, still terrified. 

"Ah, so you're a fellow artist then!" The snake put the newspaper aside, his interest seemingly renewed.

"Well, I'm learning." Edward said.

"Well, I'm Sydney, pleasure to meet you." The snake bowed his head slightly and looked over his glasses at Edward.

"You're really not going to eat me?" Edward asked, beginning to feel calm.

"I'm really not going to eat you." The snake said, his voice sounded old - like the old man's. 

"Well, in that case, I'm Edward" Edward put his bag down beside him, still somewhat unnerved. 

"Well Edward, you're a young rat to be off on your own," Sydney rested back against the cushion again. 

"Yeah. I left the nest to find a painter to study." Edward was beginning to feel safe enough to look down at the old man beneath them. 

"Well, this man has been painting for years. He used to paint the most beautiful pieces, though it seems he's been struggling of late." Sydney peered down at the old man, with a sad and sympathetic look in his eyes. Edward looked up at Sydney and noticed, although he'd been taught to fear snakes all his life,

that Sydney's skin was remarkably beautiful. Splodges of yellow and black covered his long, curled body. 

"And what are you doing here?" Edward asked, moving a little closer to Sydney. 

"I've been here for years watching him." Sydney said, still watching the old man below. 

"I have no talent of my own, but I love watching him at work." 

"Hmm, I've never met a snake interested in painting," Edward said, trying not to sound too afraid.

"Well I doubt you've ever talked to a snake at all," Sydney said with a mischievous grin. Edward laughed nervously.

"No, well, I guess you're right."

"Ah well, first time for everything." Sydney said, and rested his head on his coiled body.

Sydney closed his eyes, as if he was sleeping, and Edward began to feel his fur relax and the tiredness of his journey set in. 

He peered down at the old man who had stopped painting and was sitting back in his chair, holding a cigarette in his hand and staring at the soft turquoise strokes he'd painted on the canvas. Edward tilted his head to the side wondering what this piece would become.

The light faded even more as night fell, and Edward found himself dosing off quietly, one eye opening every few moments to see Sydney sleeping peacefully, his glasses crooked on his face. 

Edward woke up to the sun pouring through the window.

"You're up!" Edward spun around with a fright to see Sydney slithering across the ceiling beam towards him, his tale holding something in it behind him.

"Bought you some cheese," Sydney delicately placed a huge block of yellow, holy cheese down beside Edward and moved back to his cushion in the corner. Edward looked up at him, feeling scared again. He then sniffed the Swiss, and felt how hungry his stomach was. 

"I know it's usually mice that love cheese," Sydney said with a chuckle.

"But I thought you must be hungry after your journey." Edward blinked. Not only was this snake not going to eat him, he was feeding him? 

Edward nibbled at the block of cheese and then stopped.

"Thank you so much." Sydney nodded kindly, and smiled at Edward.

"Now it's no use you staying here and trying to study if you're terrified I'm going to eat you," Sydney said in a more serious tone.

"So I've told you I won't, and you'll just have to trust me." Edward decided then and there.

"You're right. I'll just have to trust you." Edward said, looking up with a shy smile. Sydney nodded and picked up his newspaper.

Over the next few days, Sydney and Edward got to know each other, and Edward watched the old man attempt to paint. 

Every afternoon around three O'clock, the old man would shuffle into the room, usually in his old grey dressing gown, and sit at his easel. 

He always had a coffee in one hand, and a cigarette in the other. Edward and Sydney would discuss what they thought the old man was painting, and what they thought he could be doing better. 

"For one thing, he needs new brushes." Edward declared one day.

"The brushes are fine." Sydney responded. 

"It's inspiration he needs." Edward nodded, thinking that his new friend Sydney was quite wise. 

"How old are you?" Edward asked. Sydney let out a little laugh.

"Let's just say, if I was human, I'd have a big long grey beard and wrinkles on my face." Edward laughed. 

It seemed to the Rat and the Snake that the old man was struggling with something inside himself, something emotional. Even his behaviour outside of painting seemed depressive. He never had any visitors, he never went anywhere, except the paint shop. He ate very little and slept a lot. It was almost hard to watch, and Edward was beginning to wonder if he'd learn anything at all. As he pondered this thought, Sydney was watching him. 

"Come with me," Sydney said at once, lifting himself off his cushion.

"Where?" Edward asked,

"Just get on." Sydney said, as he lowered his body to just before Edward. Edward blinked, and then jumped onto Sydney's back. 

It was a strange feeling to be slithering along, Edward thought. Snake's move very differently to rats. 

Sydney slithered down to the living room in a deadly silence, and moved through the kitchen to an open door that lead into a room Edward hadn't yet explored.

As they entered the room, Edward looked up to see the walls were covered, almost every inch, with paintings. Beautiful, bright, captivating paintings. Edward hopped off Sydney's back and scampered up a bench leg to the top. He looked up at the paintings, and turned slowly in a circle, looking at each piece covering the wall. 

"These are remarkable!" Edward exclaimed, his eyes almost watering. Each painting had a woman in it, the same woman, but doing different things. Mundane things. In one painting she was standing with her back to the viewer, seemingly washing dishes. She had bright red hair, tied up in a ball. She was wearing a light purple dress, which it seemed she was wearing in a few other pieces as well. Another painting in the corner pictured her

asleep on a red couch, with a vase of flowers beside her and a half eaten piece of cake on a saucer. Edward couldn't believe his eyes.

"These were the pieces our dear friend couldn't part with." Sydney said slithering back down.

"They're amazing." Edward exclaimed.

"He had a muse." Sydney said. 

"She was much more than a muse, and the old man knew it. But he painted her as he saw her." Sydney motioned for Edward to hop back on his back. They made their way back to their spot in the ceiling and continued watching the old man.

As time went on, Edward and Sydney got to know each other more. They talked quietly as they watched the old man. Edward learned that Sydney had travelled a lot over the years, and been to many places and many galleries. He spoke of the great pieces of art he'd seen all over the world.

Edward told Sydney about how he'd left his family, and how his mother was very upset with his decision to go.

"But my father understood," Edward said.

"He used to feel the same about music as I do about paintings." Sydney laughed and replied,

"A family of artists!" Edward nodded enthusiastically and went on to describe his father's love of Irish Folk music. 

As night fell again, Edward and Sydney watched the old man get frustrated at his easel and remove the canvas, placing it again on the growing pile leaning against the wall. They watched the old man pull out a bottle of what looked like scotch, from a small set of drawers next to his chair. He poured a small amount into a glass, stood and swallowed it whole before putting the glass back on the arm of the chair and leaving the room.

Sydney had a twinkle in his eye.

"I've got an idea my young friend," He said with a mischievous smile. 

"Get on," Edward didn't hesitate in hopping onto Sydney's back.

Sydney took them down to the old man's chair.

Edward perched on the top of the back of the chair, staring at the empty easel, noticing how big it was.

"It's just so huge!" Edward said to Sydney, who was using his tale to take the top off the bottle of scotch. 

"Is this a good Edward sized cup?" Sydney asked, holding up a thimble. Edward looked at the open scotch and smiled widely.

"Oh yes, yes please!" Edward said. Sydney poured the scotch and he and Edward clinked a cheers, and sipped. They relaxed into their respective spots on the chair and quietly enjoyed their drinks.

Before either of them knew it, a good portion of the bottle had been drunk, and they were excitedly swapping great painting ideas and laughing fondly at their unusual friendship. 

"I have an idea!” Sydney said abruptly.

“You can't paint on such a big surface can you? You're too small!" 

"Well thanks for pointing out the obvious," Edward replied with a blank stare.

"You could direct me!" Sydney said excitedly.

"What?" Edward said, confused.

"I’ll lift you up so you can paint on the big canvas!" He said. Edward's eyes widened and he beamed a smile.

First, Edward had to direct Sydney to the pallet, which they wiped clean and refilled with Edward's colours of choice. With the combined use of Edwards two paws and Sydney's fabulous agile tail, the team managed to set themselves up a fresh Canvas on the easel. 

And off they went.

"Down! Left, Right! Up a bit, to the centre!" Edward was yelling commands, holding the huge paintbrush with two paws while

Sydney moved swiftly under him, following his directions around the canvas. It continued on like this for at least three hours, Sydney dancing around the canvas with Edward passionately

dabbing and swooshing the brush onto the surface.

"And, I think that's it," Edward leaned back, analysing his piece.

Edward jumped off Sydney so the snake could see.

It was the most beautiful - heart-warming image.

Edward had painted himself and Sydney, perching on a ceiling beam, looking at each other with smiles on their faces. 

He'd painted Sydney's glasses, and emphasised the beautiful pattern of yellow and black on the snakes body. Sydney had never seen himself so beautiful.

The old snake felt his eyes fill with tears and removed his glasses with his tale, wiping his eyes. Edward looked over,

"What's wrong?" Edward felt his stomach drop, worried he'd offended his friend, worried the piece wasn't remarkable.

"It's so beautiful," The old snake said softly and put his glasses back on. Clearing his throat, he looked straight at Edward,

"It's beautiful," he said smiling. Edward smiled in return, and the two of them looked back at the painting. It had all the detail of the wooden ceiling beams, the atmosphere captured in all it's glory, the bright colours of Sydney's body, it had all the details down to the block of cheese. 

Edward had even included the newspaper, folded and sitting behind them. After the two friends stared at their painting for a while, they had one last drink, returned to their ceiling beam and went to bed, their bellies warm, full of scotch and cheese. 

"What on earth?!" Exclaimed the old man below, startling Sydney and Edward awake. They jumped up and peered below. The painting was still on the easel. It hadn't been a dream, Edward thought. It looked even brighter in the light of day. The old man put his hand on his head, shocked and confused. He looked around the room and back to the painting. He held up the bottle of scotch and shook his head in disbelief. A moment passed, then he walked to the phone and picked it up. 

"Tony," Said the old man. Sydney and Edward looked at each other.

"I've got something for you."