Runaway Ralph - Beverly Cleary [13]
grimy gopher guts,
Stimulated monkey feet,
Chopped-up baby parakeet—”
That was enough for Ralph! In his haste to hide he bumped into the spout of his water bottle and flooded one side of his cage. He found refuge behind a lettuce leaf, where he sat trembling with nerves and fright while he refused to listen to another word of that fearsome song. Why, the next line might be about mice! Ralph stayed hidden behind the leaf for a long, long time. He was now certain that there was no hope of ever communicating with Garf. Chopped-up baby parakeet! Garf actually relished the dreadful words.
Then one day not long after Ralph had concluded that he was doomed to loneliness, a freckle-faced girl wearing a baggy sweatshirt, shorts, and cowboy boots came into the craft shop carrying a cage at least ten times the size of Ralph’s cage. She set it on the table in the nature corner. “Hi, Aunt Jill. I’m back, and here’s Chum again,” she announced. “I brought his box of food and bag of cedar shavings.”
Aunt Jill dropped the strands of the lanyard she was demonstrating to hug the girl. “Well, hi, Lana! Welcome back! It’s good to see you again. Chum will have a friend this year. A mouse one of the new boys caught in a butterfly net.” She lifted the big cage onto the shelf beside Ralph’s cage.
Ralph sat on his wheel to get a better look at the new occupant of the nature corner, a cranky-looking animal with tan and white fur. Ralph, who had never seen such an animal, watched silently while the creature, whatever it was, shoved and pushed and stomped at the cedar shavings in his cage. He seemed to have difficulty arranging them to his satisfaction. Next he went through his food dish, picked out a number of small green pellets, and shoved them outside his cage. The cedar shavings still did not please him, so he went back to shoving, pushing, and stomping. From time to time he paused to gnaw noisily at the bars of his cage with his long curving teeth.
Finally, when the bell had rung and the campers had gone off for their noon meal, Ralph, in his eagerness for companionship, could no longer remain silent. “What are you anyway?” he asked. “Some kind of fancy gopher?”
The animal spat a green pellet out of his cage before he shot Ralph a withering look of scorn. “Fancy gopher, indeed!” he sniffed.
“Well…” Ralph faltered. “I didn’t know. You can’t blame me for asking.”
“I am a hamster,” said the animal. “A golden hamster. I am clean, odorless, and alert.”
“You don’t look gold to me,” said Ralph. “You look tan and hairy.”
At that response the hamster turned his back on the mouse.
Ralph nibbled a kernel of corn before he made up his mind to try again. “Pretty nice place we have here,” he remarked. “Plenty of food and water. Interesting things to watch.”
The hamster climbed on his exercise wheel and sat swinging to and fro while he stared at Ralph. When Chum remained silent, Ralph continued, “It’s safe from the cat, too.”
Chum appeared never to blink his eyes. “Maybe,” he said.
Ralph’s whiskers trembled. That one word spoken by the hamster hinted at evils unknown to Ralph. Here was an animal who was wise in the ways of the world. Well, go on, thought Ralph impatiently, tell me more. Chum was silent.
Finally Ralph was forced to say, “How come that girl brought you here to Happy Acres?”
“It’s a long story,” said Chum.
“I’m not in any hurry,” said Ralph. “Go on.”
Chum spat the hull of a sunflower seed into the bottom of his cage. “I was one of thirteen hamsters, six girls and seven boys, born in the back room of a pet store.”
“Thirteen.” Ralph was awed. “That’s bigger than my litter. What was it like, living in a pet store?”
“We had a happy, carefree childhood there in the cage in the back room,” Chum continued. “There was plenty of food and water and fresh cedar shavings in the bottom of the cage. We slept all day, all thirteen of us, in a warm and cozy heap. Then at night as we grew older we would play. Oh, the fun we had those nights in the pet shop.” Chum paused, a faraway look in his eyes.
“Go on,” urged Ralph.