I walked into the interview, saw the interviewers, and immediately smelt a rat.
It was the way they were sitting and smiling. I was also almost certain the Mayor didn’t normally interview candidates personally. But times were hard, even for someone with 3 As for A Level Biology, and I wasn’t about to give this interview up. The whole business took on a dream-like appearance.
It all started one Monday morning. I went down for breakfast and there was one, solitary pancake.
“I made more, but they got them,” my mother told me, wearily.
“I’m fed up with this!” I shouted.
“Shush! They might hear,” my mother said. I stopped shouting. “Well, give me some money so I can buy something from a bakery,” I told her.
She sighed. “They took all the money.”
“Look at me! I’ve lost so much weight! I had to make a hole near the buckle of my belt because otherwise it was too loose! And sometimes when I change, I get lost in my shirt!” I shouted.
“If you want to eat, you’ll have to get a job,” my mother told me, firmly.
I looked for the newspapers and found only the Employment section. They had taken the rest of it. “Teacher needed,” I read. But the children were hungry, too, and fell asleep. Besides, they had taken the furniture and books.
“Policeman needed,” I read. But the people filed complaints against them and policeman who took action against them disappeared in the night.
The list went on. Then I finally saw it. An unobtrusive advertisement tucked in the corner.
“Job available. 3 As at Advanced Level required. Great pay, many benefits. Proficiency with a musical instrument required.”
The last clause seemed weird, but I was desperate, so I loaded my miniature pyrophone organ onto my wheelbarrow and went to the address given.
I had to fight for a place in the line, which stretched for a mile. Nobody had any idea exactly what the job was. We all had to answer a long, fiendishly difficult examination, and then the top fifty were given 3 more exams over the space of a week. I managed to pass all the exams, and the final interview day came. There were only five of us left. I was the last to be called, and I had to wait in a small room. There was a portrait on the wall of a man wearing a colourful suit. It had a black wreath around it. “Killed in the line of duty” said the plaque underneath.
They called me in and asked me a few normal interview questions. Then I had to play my pyrophone organ.
The Mayor nodded and smiled at the others. “This is the one,” he said.
The assembled officers of the city applauded, and shook my hand.
“The room you came from will be your office. That was your predecessor’s portrait.”
My elation turned to worry. “But-“
The Mayor interrupted. “Come to the balcony!”
We stepped onto the balcony. The whole city was gathered below, cheering.
The Mayor placed a chain of office around my neck.
“People of Hamelin!” he cried. “Behold your new Rat-Catcher!”