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thought.

      “Well,” asked Coraline, “what do you do?”

      The rats formed a circle.

      Then they began to climb on top of each other, carefully but swiftly, until they had formed a pyramid with the largest rat at the top.

      The rats began to sing, in high, whispery voices,

      We have teeth and we have tails

      We have tails we have eyes

      We were here before you fell

      You will be here when we rise.

      It wasnʼt a pretty song. Coraline was sure sheʼd heard it before, or something like it, although she was unable to remember exactly where.

      Then the pyramid fell apart, and the rats scampered, fast and black, toward the door.

      The other crazy old man upstairs was standing in the doorway, holding a tall black hat in his hands. The rats scampered up him, burrowing into his pockets, into his shirt, up his trouser legs, down his neck.

      The largest rat climbed onto the old manʼs shoulders, swung up on the long gray mustache, past the big black button eyes, and onto the top of the manʼs head.

      In seconds the only evidence that the rats were there at all were the restless lumps under the manʼs clothes, forever sliding from place to place across him; and there was still the largest rat, who stared down, with glittering red eyes, at Coraline from the manʼs head.

      The old man put his hat on, and the last rat was gone.

      “Hello Coraline,” said the other old man upstairs. “I heard you were here. It is time for the rats to have their dinner. But you can come up with me, if you like, and watch them feed.”

      There was something hungry in the old manʼs button eyes that made Coraline feel uncomfortable. “No, thank you,” she said. “Iʼm going outside to explore.”

      The old man nodded, very slowly. Coraline could hear the rats whispering to each other, although she could not tell what they were saying.

      She was not certain that she wanted to know what they were saying.

      Her other parents stood in the kitchen doorway as she walked down the corridor, smiling identical smiles, and waving slowly. “Have a nice time outside,” said her other mother.

      “Weʼll just wait here for you to come back,” said her other father.

      When Coraline got to the front door, she turned back and looked at them. They were still watching her, and waving, and smiling.

      Coraline walked outside, and down the steps.

      IV

      The house looked exactly the same from the outside. Or almost exactly the same: around Miss Spink and Miss Forcibleʼs door were blue and red lightbulbs that flashed on and off spelling out words, the lights chasing each other around the door. On and off, around and around. Astounding! was followed by a theatrical and then triumph!!!

      It was a sunny, cold day, exactly like the one sheʼd left.

      There was a polite noise from behind her.

      She turned around. Standing on the wall next to her was a large black cat, identical to the large black cat sheʼd seen in the grounds at home.

      “Good afternoon,” said the cat.

      Its voice sounded like the voice at the back of Coralineʼs head, the voice she thought words in, but a manʼs voice, not a girlʼs.

      “Hello,” said Coraline. “I saw a cat like you in the garden at home. You must be the other cat.”

      The cat shook its head. “No,” it said. “Iʼm not the other anything. Iʼm me.” It tipped its head to one side; green eyes glinted. “You people are spread all over the place. Cats, on the other hand, keep ourselves together. If you see what I mean.”

      “I suppose. But if youʼre the same cat I saw at home, how can you talk?”

      Cats donʼt have shoulders, not like people do. But the cat shrugged, in one smooth movement that started at the tip of its tail and ended in a raised movement of its whiskers. “I can talk.”

      “Cats donʼt talk at home.”

      “No?” said the cat.

      “No,” said Coraline.

      The cat leaped smoothly from the wall to the grass near Coralineʼs feet. It stared up at her.

      “Well, youʼre the expert on these things,” said the cat dryly. “After all, what would I know? Iʼm only a cat.”

      It began to walk away, head and tail held high and proud.

      “Come back,” said Coraline. “Please. Iʼm sorry. I really am.”

      The cat stopped walking, sat down, and began to wash itself thoughtfully, apparently unaware of Coralineʼs existence.

      “We . . . we could be friends, you know,” said Coraline.

      “We could be rare specimens of an exotic breed of African dancing elephants,” said the cat. “But weʼre not. At least,” it added cattily, after darting a brief look at Coraline, “Iʼm not.”

      Coraline sighed.

      “Please. Whatʼs your name?” Coraline asked the cat. “Look, Iʼm Coraline. Okay?”

      The cat yawned slowly, carefully, revealing a mouth and tongue of astounding pinkness. “Cats donʼt have names,” it said.

      “No?” said Coraline.

      “No,” said the cat. “Now, you people have names. Thatʼs because you donʼt know who you are. We know who we are, so we donʼt need names.”

      There was something irritatingly self-centered about the cat, Coraline decided. As if it were, in its opinion, the only thing in any world or place that could possibly be of any importance.

      Half of her wanted to be very rude to it; the other half of her wanted to be polite and deferential. The polite half won.

      “Please, what is this place?”

      The cat glanced around briefly. “Itʼs here,” said the cat.

      “I can see that. Well, how did you get here?”

      “Like you did. I walked,” said the cat. “Like this.”

      Coraline watched as the cat walked slowly across the lawn. It walked behind a tree, but didnʼt come out the other side. Coraline went over to the tree and looked behind it. The cat was gone.

      She walked back toward the house. There was another polite noise from behind her. It was the cat.

      “By the by[7],” it said. “It was sensible of you to bring protection. Iʼd hang on to it, if I were you.”

      “Protection?”

      “Thatʼs what I said,” said the cat. “And anyway—”

      It paused, and stared intently at something that wasnʼt there.

      Then it went down into a low crouch and moved slowly forward, two or three steps. It seemed to be stalking an invisible mouse. Abruptly, it turned tail and dashed for the woods.

      It vanished among the trees.

      Coraline wondered what the cat had meant.

      She also wondered whether cats could all talk where she came from and just chose not to, or whether they could only talk when they were here—wherever here was.

      She walked down the brick steps to the Misses Spink and Forcibleʼs front door. The blue and red lights flashed on and off.

      The door was open, just slightly. She knocked on it, but her first knock made the door swing open, and Coraline went in.

      She was in a dark room that smelled of dust and

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