It was sometime during my third year of captivity that I met Fripalaxus. It was the whim of the General that no one be allowed to interact with me in any way and thus I had not heard the sound of another voice for over thirty-six months. It had gotten to the point where I began to doubt my ability to converse at all. While I did speak aloud to myself throughout most of those dreary and soul-sucking days, I was no longer even sure if I was speaking in a coherent manner.

The hallucinations began about eighteen months into my sentence. I saw ghosts and goblins, friends who were not there, and glowing balls of light. I knew in my mind that these illusions were not real, but this realization did nothing to decrease their frequency or magnitude. My mind was beginning to crumble like seaside cliffs battered remorselessly by the waves. I was on an inexorable path to madness.

The conditions of my incarceration were torturous. Beyond the lack of human interaction, my cell was minute, a mere nine by five feet. There was no light other than an opening high up on the wall  which created a low illumination for several hours a day. My two daily meals were slid through an opening in the door and consisted of what I assumed was gruel. There was a six inch hole in the floor of my cell for bodily functions.

When I was first imprisoned, I swore that I would never allow the General to beat me, to make me surrender my beliefs. Now I was ready to concede defeat. There was nothing left within me. I was beaten. I no longer saw the point in remaining alive. I determined that I would end my suffering.

I pried a small piece of wood from the edge of my cot and sharpened it by abrading it against my stone walls until it was as sharp as a spear tip. I held it against my chest over my heart and prepared to run headlong into the wall to drive its point home.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." A voice cried out from behind me.

I turned to see a large brown rat sitting on the bed with its legs dangling over the edge. It contorted it's face to what I presumed was a smile and addressed me.
"Don't give up! Be a good chap and join me here on the bed for a good talk, no need to snuff yourself."

Certain it was a hallucination, I addressed myself rather than the garrulous rodent.
"I'm fully gone now, my brain is finally broken. I'm getting advice from Ratty."

"Do I look like I'm from the The Wind in the Willows?" The rat asked, slightly annoyed, "And my name is Fripalaxus, but you can call me Frip."

I blinked hard, several times, but the rat remained. He shook his head.
"Are you done? Maybe you should hit your head against the walls a few times or splash your drinking water on your face."

"How is this possible, how are you speaking?" I asked.

"By opening and closing my mouth, producing words, I suspect. Why, how do you speak?" The rat asked lightly.

I became annoyed and snapped, "You know very well what I mean. Rodents or any animals, for that matter, have no ability to speak."

Frip thought for a moment, "You are right of course, more the tragedy for me. I have no one to converse with. You, of all people, must appreciate that. I cannot help that I was given this gift, please allow me to use it."

I decided to give in to my hallucination. I faced the rat.
"Why are you here?"I asked.

"To keep you company, of course. You've been getting a bit looney lately. I couldn't just sit by in your pissing hole and watch you kill yourself."

I made a disgusted face, "You hang out in the pissing hole...you know that I crap into it too?"

Frip waved me off, "Please don't remind me. It's certainly far from ideal, but it's the only way in. Now that you know I'm here, I think I'll just hang out here in your cell."

I rephrased my initial question, "Why now? Why worry about me at all? Is there some purpose other than keeping me company for you being here?"

Frip scratched his chin, then looked up and stared me in the eye.
"You were on the edge. I couldn't let that happen to you. I've seen what the General has done to countless others. You can't let that prick win. He keeps bringing screaming prisoners to this place, my home."

"What can I do about it?"

Frip smiled, "Get better, that will piss him off, then leave it to me and Lulu."

"Lulu?" I asked, "Can I meet her?"

Frip shook his head, "That wouldn't be a great idea right now. You have to trust me."

I laughed for the first time since I can remember, "Why not? I'm happy to let a rat direct my life. It's not like things can get much worse."

"That's the spirit!" Frip said cheerfully, then he climbed on my shoulder, curled into a ball, and was soon snoozing.

During the course of the next few days Fripalaxus laid out most of his plan. He felt that by drawing the General to the prison where he would be vulnerable, something could be done to take him out. I may not ever get out of here, but the thought of revenge seemed pretty sweet.

The problem, of course, was actually getting the General to the prison. He did despise me, true, but he had long since stopped visiting to observe my torment. It is as though he had completely forgotten me. He needed be made to remember me, to come and ensure my torment once more.

Frip felt, and I agreed, that the thing that would annoy the General the most would be if I improved. If he learned that I had become genuinely happy and mentally well, it would infuriate him. It would infuriate him enough that he would need to come and personally send me back to hell.

When I awoke the next day, I was certain that Frip would no longer exist, but there he was, scratching a chessboard into the concrete floor.

"You play chess?" I asked incredulously.

"I'm a rat," he replied, "of course not. I play checkers. It's also far easier to make the pieces out of whatever is lying about. I thought we'd play a bit to help get your mind back into working order.

So began our regimen of checkers, a dozen or so games a day. Frip was a good player and when we started, he would beat me regularly. After a while though, my game improved significantly and we became about evenly matched.

One day, after a very close match which I won, we were having a very enlightening conversation.

"How is it you learned to speak?" I asked.

He laid back on the cot. "The General seems to have a particular dislike of scholars. There are many teachers and poets within these walls. They all talk to themselves, I just listen."

"Am I the only prisoner you talk to?"

"Indeed you are. You were certainly the most despondent. You are also the most despised by the General, or so the guards seem to believe. That makes you the most suitable for my plans."

I was still curious, "And your only desire is to empty the prison?"

Frip shook his head as he answered, "Do you not listen? There is no time, day or night, when anguished wailing doesn't not permeate the air! My breatheren and I want our peace, is that so much too ask?"

I smiled, "No it's not. So what's next in this plan?"

"I think you need to start singing aloud on a regular basis, lively songs, happy songs, nothing slow or funereal. We have to convince them you are at least a little happy." Frip concluded.

"Any suggestions for my playlist?"

Frip thought for a while, scratching his chin, "ABBA maybe, Neil Diamond, even the Talking Heads would do nicely, just no Leonard Cohen or Ryan Adams."

"Wow," I said, impressed, "you know your music."

"Rodents in general are very appreciative of music," he shook his head, "much to our detriment during that entire Pied Piper affair. Now let's get started, pick a song you know and sing!"

This went on for several weeks. Between checker games with Fripalaxus, I would sing loudly so that the guards could hear. The funny thing is that it actually made me feel significantly better. I even found myself laughing honestly at Frip's tales and smiling ceaselessly during the serenades.

It was late one Sunday, I know it was Sunday because Frip was late and he was always late on Sundays. He was late because he would listen to the Catholic mass given to the guards.

Apparently, Frip prayed to Saint Puce, a flea who lived in the underarm of Christ after having been hatched upon his flesh, achieving his martyrdom when he refused to leave the Savior's body, following the crucifixion, for lesser flesh. I pointed out to Frip that Saint Puce was a Nathaniel West character from his book, The Dream Life of Balso Snell. This fact did not seem to matter, Frip merely claimed that West was divinely inspired.

Anyway, it was late one Sunday and Frip entered my cell very excited and agitated.

"Good News! Our plan has worked! The guards have informed the General that you appear almost happy. Apparently that is more than the old monster can bear. He is coming to see for himself in two days time!"

"And then what?" I asked

"Then it's Lulu's turn." He said mysteriously as he left my cell.

Two days later, I was both nervous and terrified. It finally dawned on me that the General's visit could mean horrific consequences for me. After all, he was visiting because it was unbearable for him to think I might not be suffering enough. My plan to survive was simple, I would act exactly as I had before I met Frip. I would be listless, easy to startle, dead-eyed, and uncommunicative. Above all, I would not sing. I had already erased the checkerboard. I sat on my cot and practiced staring aimlessly into space. I was ready.

Around noon, Frip stuck his head up through the piss-hole.
"The General has arrived," he said anxiously, "get ready! Lulu is ready too."

"About Lulu," I asked, "don't you think it's about time you tell me exactly what this Lulu is supposed to do and how it's going to help me."

"No time, he's almost here." Frip said, ducking his head back down the hole.

For the first time in thirty-eight months, the door to my cell opened. A guard I didn't recognize entered, followed by a dark and ominous figure, the General. He stood well over six feet tall, bearded, slightly overweight and dressed in full uniform with a comical number of pointless medals and ribbons adorning his chest. His eyes were dark and evil. He approached and leaned down to look at me. The bill of his military hat nearly touched my forehead. I could smell his rancid breath.

He examined me carefully. I gazed ahead, unblinking and unfocused.

He addressed the guard angrily, "I clearly remember you telling me he was singing, that he was cheerful. He's a damn vegetable, you wasted my time!"

The guard was about to answer when the General cried out in pain and began hopping around the cell, screaming, "Something bit my ankle damnit! Look, it's bleeding. Get me to your first aid station so I can bandage it. As for him," he pointed in my direction, "just continue as before." He stormed out of the cell with the guard at his heels.

It wasn't long before Frip reappeared.
"That was great," he announced, "perfect."

I was confused. "That was it? Lulu bit his ankle, that's my revenge?"

Frip giggled, "Don't be ridiculous, of course not. Haven't you ever heard of rabies?"

"Lulu is rabid?"

"Yes, poor thing. She hasn't got much time. She wanted to help while she could," Frip said sadly, "the General should begin showing symptoms in the next couple of months and by then it'll be too late and he'll be dead as a door nail in no time."

"Then what?" I asked.

"Well, according to my cousins in the palace, the next human in line is anxious to receive world approval and intends to release all political prisoners and..." Frip paused and clapped his paws together, "shut this place down. It will be all ours again, rodent heaven, peaceful."

I laid back on the cot taking in what Frip had told me. It sounded almost too good to be true. I could certainly last a couple of more months.

I saw Fripalaxus less and less after that day until he stopped visiting at all. I began to think it was all a hallucination until word reached the prison that the General had died a slow, painful death and we were to be released.

I awoke one morning to find the guards had departed and the cell doors were left open. Outside the door was a neat pile of clean civilian clothes. I changed and sat on the cot, meditating on my future and trying to formulate a plan.

Suddenly a familiar voice called out to me.
"Aren't you gonna say goodbye?"

"I was beginning to think you were a hallucination, Ratty." I smiled.

"Sure thing, Mr. Mole. I might miss you a little, but I'll be glad to see you go." Frip grinned.

"And I'm glad to be gone, but I might miss you a little too." I got up to leave. Before I exited Frip called my name and I turned.

He looked me warmly in the eye and spoke brightly, "Anytime you want to lose a game of checkers, just drop by."

I walked through the door and replied before I left, "Count on it Frip, count on it."