The Mouse & the Motorcycle by Beverly Cleary

Author:Beverly Cleary [Cleary, Beverly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780061706820
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2012-04-24T12:41:44+00:00

The next thing Ralph knew, his mother was shaking him by the shoulder.“Wake up,” she said.“Ralph, wake up. Room service has brought us another meal.”

“Room service?” Ralph rubbed his eyes, not believing what he had heard. “Room service has brought our dinner?”

“Yes, a real feast.A whole blueberry muffin and a chocolate-chip cookie,” said Ralph’s mother. “Get up. We are having a family reunion.”

It all came back to Ralph. “Oh, room service,” he said, understanding at last. “You mean the boy. Keith.”

“He is room service to me.” Ralph’s mother sounded happy and carefree.

Ralph sat up.Already his aunts and uncles and many squeaky cousins were arriving by the secret paths in the space between the walls. It was a long time since anyone had had enough food for a family reunion, and there was rejoicing in the mouse nest for everyone but Ralph. He was thinking of the motorcycle he had lost and the promise he had broken. He had a dull, heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach and he did not feel like celebrating.

“Why, there’s Ralph,” squeaked his Aunt Sissy, who thought she was better than the rest of the family because she lived in the bridal suite where, she led her relatives to believe, riches of rice fell to the carpet when the bride took off her hat and the groom shook out his coat. The rest of the family knew Aunt Sissy was not as grand as she pretended to be, because very few brides and grooms came to this hotel these days. “My, how you’ve grown.”

Ralph never knew what to say when people told him how he had grown.

“Well, well! If it isn’t Ralph!” said Uncle Lester, who had a nest inside the wall of the housekeeper’s office, where the maids dropped doughnut crumbs every morning at ten o’clock when they had their coffee.

“What’s this I hear about you riding up and down the halls on a motorcycle?” Uncle Lester had a way of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.

“My land, a motorcycle,” said old Aunt Dorothy. “Isn’t that pretty dangerous?”

“Wouldn’t mind riding one myself if I were a few years younger,” said Uncle Lester.

All the little cousins came crowding around Ralph. “Show us your motorcycle,” they squeaked. “We want to ride it. Come on, give us a ride on your motorcycle, Ralph. Huh, Ralph? Come on, Ralph. Please!”

Ralph knew he was expected to be polite to all his relatives, even the squeaky little cousins. “Well . . .” Embarrassed and ashamed, he looked down at the floor. “I sort of . . . lost the motorcycle. In a pile of sheets and pillowcases.”

“Lost the motorcycle! Oh, Ralph,” cried his mother, genuinely alarmed.

Ralph knew what she was thinking. Did this mean the end of room service? Did she have to go back to pilfering crumbs for his brothers and sisters?

“That’s a young mouse for you,” said tactless Uncle Lester. “Can’t take care of anything.”

“If anybody asks me, I think it’s a good thing he lost it,” said Aunt Dorothy.

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