Runaway Ralph - Beverly Cleary [9]
That greeting opened Ralph’s eyes in a hurry! He saw to his horror that he was pinned to the leaves by the paw of a coldhearted tomcat and was surrounded by a mother cat and a litter of wide-eyed kittens. Ralph simply closed his eyes again and tried to pretend he was not there. He could not believe what was happening. Cats were something that happened to other mice, not to Ralph. Now he wished he had listened when his mother had tried to warn him, as she so often did, about cats, owls, people, traps, poisoned grain, and vacuum cleaners.
“Children, pay attention,” said the mother cat to her kittens. “A live mouse is an interesting and instructive plaything.”
Ralph felt quite miserable enough without having to be educational as well.
“Now watch this,” said the tomcat.
The weight was removed from Ralph’s body. A paw scooped him up and tossed him into the air. Nothing like this ever had happened to Ralph before. He landed on his feet and stood, frozen with terror, facing the cat. He waited with every muscle tense for the cat to pounce but nothing happened. The cat, who wore an interested expression on his horrible furry face, simply sat and watched. Ralph was aware of the campers leaving the dining hall and scattering to different parts of the camp, but he dared not look at them. If he watched his chance he might be able to make a run for it. The cat, apparently distracted by a butterfly, glanced away. Ralph leaped for freedom only to be brought to earth by a paw.
“That’s the way to do it,” said the tomcat. “Mice are stupid creatures who are easily fooled.”
Ralph lay limp and still, the cat’s evil claws curling around his body. If Ralph moved even a hairsbreadth, he would be stabbed in five places. Maybe if I play dead they will go away, he thought. Children walked in and out of the screen door nearby, but no one came to the rescue of the small, brown mouse behind the bamboo.
“He’s trying to play dead,” explained the tomcat, “but I can feel his heart beating beneath my paw.”
Unfortunately, there was nothing Ralph could do about his heartbeat. If he ever got away from this cat, he would be a better mouse. He would listen when his mother warned him about cats, owls, people, traps, poisoned grain, and vacuum cleaners. He would set a good example for his little brothers and sisters and cousins.
“Children, forget that butterfly and watch closely,” instructed the mother cat.
“This is the scoop-and-toss play,” explained the tomcat, and the next thing Ralph knew he had been scooped up by the cat’s paw and tossed into the air. He managed to land on all fours in the bamboo leaves, but he was too terrified of that clawed paw to move. The attention of the kittens, he was pleased to see, had wandered. One rolled over and tried to catch his tail. Another scampered off after a leaf. A third trotted after a girl, who picked him up and carried him away. The tomcat appeared to lose interest in Ralph and sat calmly, his tail curved around his feet, looking up at the leaves fluttering on the bamboo stalks.
He thinks he’s got me fooled, thought Ralph. If he moved, the cat was sure to pounce. If he did not move, the cat would pounce anyway. There was no way Ralph could win. He was doomed—doomed to be a mid-morning snack for a cat.
Luckily, Ralph did not have to make a decision. There was a sudden whacking noise on the fallen leaves, and a cloud of something light and soft settled over him. Then he found himself being tumbled about as he was lifted from the ground.
“Good for you, Garf,” said a woman’s voice. “What kind of butterfly did you catch?”
“It isn’t a butterfly,” answered the boy. “It’s a mouse. I rescued him from Catso.”
By now Ralph had managed to get his feet down and his head up and could see that he was suspended in the air in some sort of net. Through the mesh he could see a plump, cheerful woman, who was wearing slacks and a blouse. He also could see the boy, the same boy who had clumped through the Mountain View Inn in new cowboy boots, who was