The Mouse and the Motorcycle - Beverly Cleary [29]
Ralph did not sleep well that afternoon. He found himself thinking of the tantalizing glimpse he had had of the ground floor and of all the opportunities it offered mice—crumbs in the dining room, leftovers in the kitchen, scraps in the garbage. He lay daydreaming on a pile of shredded Kleenex. He could see himself on the first floor pilfering crumbs in the dining room at night after the guests were in bed. And from the dining room he would go to the kitchen right past the night clerk, who was sure to be asleep. If only he could make the trip on the motorcycle….
The thought of the motorcycle put an end to Ralph’s daydream and made sleep impossible. After tossing about on his bed of Kleenex, he got up and poked his head out the knothole. Keith was awake, lying back on the pillows with his cars beside him. He smiled wanly at Ralph.
“How are you feeling?” asked Ralph.
“Sort of tired,” answered Keith.
Ralph climbed through the hole. “Where are your folks?”
“They went out for a little while. They’ll be back. I’m supposed to take a nap.”
“Are you going to?” asked Ralph.
“I’d rather talk to you.” Keith leaned over and set the motorcycle on the floor. “Want to ride it?” he asked.
“Do I want to ride it!” Ralph could scarcely believe he had heard correctly. “You mean you’ll let me? After the way I lost it for you?”
“You proved you could be responsible when you brought me the aspirin,” explained Keith. “You’re more grown up.”
“Thanks,” said Ralph modestly.
“I guess mice grow up faster than boys.” Keith sounded as though he longed to grow as rapidly as a mouse.
“You grow a little bit every day,” Ralph said, as he removed his crash helmet from its hiding place behind the curtain.
“I guess you’re right,” agreed Keith. “My dad measures me every six months against the doorjamb of our kitchen back in Ohio, and each mark he makes is higher than the last, but I never feel myself growing.”
“You wait long enough and you will be a grown-up.” Ralph felt as if he had said something very wise as he slipped the rubber band on his crash helmet around his whiskers.
“I guess so.” Keith slumped back on the pillows. “But it takes so long.”
“I grew up, didn’t I?” asked Ralph. “You said yourself I had become a responsible mouse.”
“Yes, you did,” said Keith thoughtfully. “I guess that’s part of the secret. Just getting bigger isn’t enough. You have to learn things like not taking off down a steep hill on a bicycle when you aren’t used to hand brakes. Stuff like that.”
Ralph walked with a slight swagger to the motorcycle, grabbed the handgrips, and threw his leg across the seat. He remembered to pick up his tail before he started. Pb-pb-b-b-b. He took off across the carpet and circled the room, covering the rough parts under the dresser and chair and coming to a halt beside the bed. “She has good balance on a rough road,” said Ralph with authority. “She’s a mighty fine machine.”
“Say, Ralph,” said Keith, suddenly sitting up. “How would you like to come with me when we leave the hotel?”
“Come with you!” Ralph was stunned. He had expected to live and die in the Mountain View Inn, and now he was being offered the opportunity for travel that he had dreamed of.
“Yes. Come with me to San Francisco and then back to Ohio.”
Ralph’s first thought was of the motorcycle. If he went with Keith he would not have to be separated from the motorcycle.
Keith must have sensed Ralph’s thoughts because he said, “You could ride the motorcycle every day.”
Ralph was silent. He had begun to think of other things—his family, the permission he had earned to visit the ground floor, Keith’s family and how they might feel about a mouse.
“Come on, Ralph,” said Keith. “You could travel in my pocket.”
“Your mother doesn’t care for mice,” Ralph pointed out.
“Not running around loose,” agreed Keith. “But she let me keep a couple of white mice once. I still have their cage at home. You would be very comfortable in it.”
“Comfortable in a cage?” Ralph was horrified. “No, thank you.”
“Aw, come on—”
“Would you like to be shut up in a cage?” demanded