Ralph S. Mouse - Beverly Cleary [13]
Flustered by the photographer prowling around adjusting his lens, Gordon began to read, “Mice are rodents. They gnaw things and they multiply rapidly.”
They do not, thought Ralph. He had watched Miss K multiply by writing squiggles with chalk on the blackboard. He had never seen a mouse do any such thing. The photographer was now circling the fishbowl with the black eye of the camera aimed at Ralph. Click. Click. Click. I hope he isn’t around when I have to run that maze, thought Ralph, darting around the fishbowl, trying to avoid that evil eye.
Gordon read on, the reporter scribbled, the photographer turned toward the audience, the class sat up straight and smiled. “Mice are harmful,” Gordon read. “They destroy crops and food supplies. They kill trees by gnawing around the bark. Mice can be destroyed by traps, poison, and cats.”
That’s mean, thought indignant Ralph. We aren’t harmful on purpose. We’re just trying to get along in a harsh world.
Gordon continued. “It has been said that if you see one mouse, there are twenty-five mice hiding that you don’t see.”
Ralph thought this statement over. It might be true of the inn, but it was not true at Sneed Elementary.
The class was silent. Mrs. Seeger looked pleased, for she had helped Gordon find information about mice. The reporter thanked Miss K for letting her visit—good story—great angle—sorry she couldn’t stay—mayor cutting ribbon for opening of new auto-parts shop—meeting of the school board. With that apology, she dashed out the door, followed by the photographer weighed down with cameras.
Ralph tried to keep his legs flexible by running short sprints around the fishbowl. He must not let his muscles tighten before the race.
Melissa was next. She paused to smile at Ralph before she announced, “The title of my story is ‘The Strange Disappearance of Ralph.’”
Ralph stopped sprinting to listen.
Melissa read, “A mouse named Ralph lived at the house of a girl named Primrose. Primrose liked Ralph. She let him run all around the house. One day Ralph was in the laundry room. Primrose’s mother told her to take the clothes out of the dryer. Primrose did not see Ralph. Some of the clothes she pulled out of the dryer fell on top of Ralph. A nylon sock with static cling stuck to Ralph. When Primrose folded all the clothes, she had one sock left over. The sock with Ralph stuck to it was gone. It had gone wherever socks with static cling go when they get lost. The sock and Ralph were never seen again. The end.”
The class thought the story was funny. Ralph did not know what to think. He had learned about static cling from watching those boring women who talked about it on television, but could he really stick to a sock? What a terrible thought. Just to be safe, he had better stay away from socks from now on.
Melissa was happy with the success of her story until several members of the class asked why the girl’s mother had not used Static-off in her wash.
“She just didn’t,” answered Melissa. “I guess she didn’t watch TV.”
“I am not so sure a sock would really cling to a mouse,” said Gordon, a thoughtful boy always interested in facts.
Oh, shut up, thought Ralph. These delays were making him nervous. A ray of winter sunshine fell on the fishbowl, making it so warm that Ralph began to pant.
Gordon’s remark did not bother Melissa. “The sock clung to him in my story,” she said, as if her answer ended the discussion.
“But the sock had to be someplace,” persisted Gordon.
The class took up valuable time defending Melissa’s story. Oh, no, socks didn’t have to be someplace. Socks disappeared at their houses all the time. They could look every place and never find them. Nobody knew where they went. Sometimes they couldn’t find matching socks to wear to school. Their mothers had drawers full of socks without mates. Gordon did not know what he was talking about. One girl said her mother took the family’s washing to the Laundromat