Minnie plods along behind her walker, mouse breasts bobbing between her wobbly legs.
Goofy has been dead for 10 years now.
Donald Duck is currently senile, worried about a Communist takeover. Daisy cares for him, still beautiful, but significantly aged.
Chip and Dale ran off together, haven't been heard from since the RR days.
Pete died of a massive heart attack back in the early '70s.
It's just Mickey and Minnie now, but a dark cloud hangs over their head.
This is what Mickey knows. He also knows about Minnie and Mortimer. And this is what hurts him. This is why he tastes daggers of anxiety every now and again. Today he is 86 years old, his voice more creaky than squeaky, and today he needs to know why.
For 49 years Mickey has stayed aloof. For even longer he couldn't picture Minnie with a mouse other than him. But as death has become an imminent certainty, and since Mortimer punched his ticket long ago, Minnie is the only one left to confront.
"Why did you screw MORTIMER?!?" Mickey asks Minnie, his youthful squeak returning.
"Hwhhaaaa?" Minnie replies, finishing another aimless circle with her walker.
"You know GOD DAMN WELL... M-O-R-T-..."
Mickey shook his head in frustration, his trademark ears beginning to deform. But soon he calmed down.
"Why did you do it, sweetheart? I just wanna know..."
Minnie continued to play senile. Perhaps she was. She had begun fading in and out of clarity around 2010.
"I'm not mad at you, hon... I just want to know before... you know.."
"Before CARSON COMES ON?!?" Minnie asked in a confused, nasally voice.
"Yes hon, before Carson comes on."
Suddenly Minnie's gaze tightened. Her shoulders squared with his, and she changed gears.
"Because he was bad. THAT'S WHY! That's why every girl mouse gets with a rat... it's a thrill you'll never get with a 'reliable husband.' The baddest you've ever been was when you stubbed your toe plowing my garden. Unfortunately, it was a real-life garden... and not my hoo-di-hoo."
Mickey could not believe this detailed answer. He sat still for a moment, distraught.
"Is that what you wanted to hear?" Minnie asked.
"Yes Dear."
"Well, THERE YOU GO AGAIN! Being nice when I've been a total mouse-bitch to you."
"Well it's no reason to get mad now.."
"IT'S THE PERFECT REASON TO GET MAD! Great! Now I'M MAD!" Minnie became so flustered her brain didn't have a chance to go full-on 2nd-term Reagan.
"We've been married for 84 years, and have had longer, healthier lives than any two field mice could ever expect" she continued, "but god dammit Mickey, I've known that you've known, and I've felt terrible hiding it. I'm at fault for this, but you have to understand how enabling you were."
"ENABLING?" Mickey began to shift his torso. "I've been ENABLING?!?" Mickey stood up, it was as if he was 50 years younger. "While you were getting Mortimer's mouse glaze on your lips, I WAS SUPPORTING THIS FAMILY!"
"There we go... hit me with some more!" Minnie said, relishing in her husband's anger.
"All the while Donald knew. Pete knew. I knew. Shit! Even Goofy knew. You know what it's like for that freak dog-clown to have the inside scoop on your wife and her secret lover? YOU HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA!"
After that, Mickey began to show signs of remorse. But he remembered what Minnie said, and exchanged those for feelings of relief. He sighed, then smiled, and then hugged Minnie. Glad they finally had it out, and glad the burden was lifted. Minnie agreed, wishing it wouldn't have taken 74 years to confront the Dumbo in the room.
As the distress dissolved from Mickey's face, so did the guilt. And their life together ensued. Hand in hand, they both got behind the walker, shuffling into the sunset, a fairy tale couple once again.
PHOTO CREDIT: TEASSARE TS Rogers Illustration and Design
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