Runaway Ralph - Beverly Cleary [17]
“Maybe next time,” whispered Garf, and hurriedly cleaned the cage and refilled the water bottle while the campers sang on:
“The whistle blew,
The train drew nigh.
Bill Grogan’s goat was soon to die.
He gave three groans of mortal pain,
Coughed up the shirts and flagged the train.”
When the song was finished, the housekeeping for Ralph was completed, and Garf had slipped quickly and silently out of the craft shop without letting the screen door slam or squeak. Ralph stood on his hind legs holding the bars of his cage with his front paws and wishing Garf were a different kind of boy.
Almost at once the screen door opened again, and Aunt Jill with her arm around Garf’s shoulders brought the boy back inside. “Sit down, Garf,” she said, and sat on a bench beside one of the worktables. Scowling, the boy obeyed.
“What’s the trouble, Garf?” asked Aunt Jill kindly.
What does she mean? Ralph wondered.
Garf stared at the floor.
“You know you have been breaking one of the camp rules,” said Aunt Jill. “Campers are not supposed to come into the craft shop without permission unless I am here or one of the counselors.”
So that is why he’s always in a hurry, thought Ralph. He isn’t supposed to be here. He not only likes bloodthirsty songs, he breaks rules.
Garf continued to stare at the floor.
“Is there anything we can do to help?” persisted the camp director.
“No,” said Garf suddenly. “Because I’m going to run away, and nobody is going to stop me!”
Aunt Jill appeared to take this news calmly, but for some reason Ralph did not. He felt a shock of excitement. Don’t do it, boy, he wanted to squeak. It won’t get you anyplace. At the same time he realized that a boy who wanted to run away was sure to like motorcycles. Maybe he had misunderstood Garf. Maybe Garf liked speed and would know how to make a miniature motorcycle run.
“Is there someplace you especially want to go?” asked Aunt Jill.
“No,” said Garf. “Just away.”
Aunt Jill looked thoughtfully out the back window toward the barn and the riding ring before she turned to Garf and asked, “What do you want to do? What do you really want to do?”
Ralph gripped the bars of his cage and waited for the boy’s answer. Catso’s paw appeared through the hole in the screen door, but the human beings did not notice. Ralph watched and listened.
The hole in the screen had stretched another half inch.
Garf picked up a scrap of plastic left over from someone’s lanyard and twisted it around his fingers. “I can tell you one thing,” he burst out. “I don’t want to braid any stupid lanyards! I’ve braided lanyards in Cub Scouts, I’ve braided lanyards at the YMCA, I’ve braided lanyards in the park during the summer, and I’ve braided lanyards in the after-school recreation program. Nobody needs more than one lanyard, and I’m fed up with lanyards!” After this outburst he sat staring at the floor, and when Aunt Jill remained silent, he went on. “And I want people to stop feeding my mouse. I caught him, and he’s my mouse.”
That’s good, thought Ralph, because if he runs away he might take me, and then maybe I can escape and find my motorcycle again.
“I think that can be arranged,” said Aunt Jill. “You’ve told me what you don’t want to do and what you don’t want other people to do. Now tell me what you want to do.”
Ralph could tell from Garf’s silence that this request was a difficult one. Aunt Jill seemed to have plenty of time to wait while he thought. Outside the craft shop some boys were gathering bamboo husks to float in the irrigation ditch. Ralph watched to see if they might uncover his crash helmet and motorcycle, but they did not go to the far side of the bamboo.
“Well…uh,” began Garf, and stopped.
Aunt Jill waited. So did Ralph, who noticed that Chum was also listening. Garf looked uncomfortable. Still Aunt Jill waited. Go on, say something, thought Ralph.
When Garf finally spoke he no longer sounded angry. “I guess…I guess I just want to be alone once in a while,” he said.
“You want to be alone,” repeated Aunt Jill.
“Yes,” said Garf. “At home I have to