Ralph S. Mouse: Chapters 1–2

Ralph’s mother said they were a rowdy bunch that set a bad example for the more civilized indoor mice.

Ralph’s mother said they were a rowdy bunch that set a bad example for the more civilized indoor mice.

As the car stopped in front of the hotel and the desk clerk roused himself, Ralph scurried under the grandfather clock to the nest he had made from chewed-up Kleenex, a lost ski-lift ticket, and a few bits of carpet fringe he had nipped off when no one was looking.

Above Ralph the clock began to grind and groan and strike, bong...bong, as if it had to summon strength for each stroke. Ralph dreaded the sound, even though it was the reason he lived under the clock.

Never mind, thought Ralph, peeking out at two pairs of boots, the kind known as waffle stompers, which had thick treads that held snow.

Ralph’s keen ears heard the scratch of a pen and the rattle of a key. He winced when the clerk banged the bell on the desk for Matt, even though Matt was standing right there, waiting to carry the guests’ bags.

Ralph’s keen ears heard the scratch of a pen and the rattle of a key. He winced when the clerk banged the bell on the desk for Matt, even though Matt was standing right there, waiting to carry the guests’ bags.

“Cheapskates,” muttered Matt. Guests at this hotel often insisted on carrying luggage to avoid tipping him.

They came running and jumping, across the threadbare carpet, to the linoleum, squealing, “I want a ride!” “Gimme a turn!” “Come on, Ralph, get off and let us use it!”

They came running and jumping, across the threadbare carpet, to the linoleum, squealing, “I want a ride!” “Gimme a turn!” “Come on, Ralph, get off and let us use it!”

“You’re greedy,” said a cheeky outdoor mouse. Then all the mice, down to the littlest one who was tangled in the fringe of the carpet, began to chant, “Ralph is greedy, Ralph is greedy!”

The outdoor mice were defiant, but Ralph could tell they were not as brave as they pretended.

Shocked and hurt by such strong language, the little indoor mice fell silent. They looked at Ralph with such sad eyes that Ralph was ashamed. “You said bad words,” said one, his voice filled with reproach.

When Ralph had wiped off all the mud and had polished his chrome, he rummaged through the remains of his nest for a bit of carpet fringe.

In the morning, his mother would venture downstairs to lecture him on the evils of selfishness and bad language.

After his strenuous night of riding through puddles, fending off his relatives, trying to repair his motorcycle, and rebuilding his nest, Ralph napped soundly.

Ralph shuddered at the thought of bloodthirsty cats stalking his innocent little brothers, sisters, and cousins.

Ralph shuddered at the thought of bloodthirsty cats stalking his innocent little brothers, sisters, and cousins.

Ralph sat back on his haunches and began his morning grooming.

“My teacher,” explained Ryan. “Her real name is Miss Kuckenbacker, but she told us to call her Miss K, because calling her Miss Kuckenbacker would take up too much classroom time.”
“Oh,” said Ralph, mystified.

As Ralph had grown more sophisticated from listening to children, he came to understand that children moved. Schools stood still.

This remark puzzled Ralph, however. When he had lived upstairs, he had once tasted toothpaste when a careless guest left the cap off a tube. He found himself foaming and frothing at the mouth as he skittered around frantically trying to find water while one of the maids ran down the hall shrieking, “Mad mouse! Mad mouse!”

This remark puzzled Ralph, however. When he had lived upstairs, he had once tasted toothpaste when a careless guest left the cap off a tube. He found himself foaming and frothing at the mouth as he skittered around frantically trying to find water while one of the maids ran down the hall shrieking, “Mad mouse! Mad mouse!”

Deep inside the parka pocket, Ralph felt sad, brave and noble, frightened and bewildered.

Deep inside the parka pocket, Ralph felt sad, brave and noble, frightened and bewildered.