The Mouse and the Motorcycle

“There it was on the end—the motorcycle! Ralph stared at it and then walked over and kicked a tire. Close up the motorcycle looked even better than he expected. It was new and shiny and had a good set of tires. Ralph walked all the way around it, examining the pair of chromium mufflers and the engine and the hand clutch. It even had a little license plate so it would be legal to ride it. ‘Boy!’ said Ralph to himself, his whiskers quivering with excitement. ‘Boy, oh, boy!’”

Ralph the mouse lives for adventure, to his mother’s ongoing chagrin. He’s just discovered a toy motorcycle left in the hotel room by the boy Keith, and suddenly, the world centers around that miniature form of transportation. This moment in the story establishes the primary need of protagonist Ralph, his yearning for adventure. The toy motorcycle is a key symbol in the novel.

“Ralph thought sadly of his comfortable home in the mousehole. It was a good home, untidy but comfortable. The children who stayed in Room 215 usually left a good supply of crumbs behind, and there was always water from the shirts hung to drip-dry beside the washbasin. It should have been enough. He should have been content to stay home without venturing out into the world looking for speed and excitement.”

Ralph simply had to get a good look at the boy’s toy vehicles, especially the motorcycle that’s exactly the right size for a mouse to ride. Instead, he ends up trapped in the room’s trash can. There’s a good chance he’ll be tossed into a garbage bin or worse. This is Ralph’s first of many encounters with the trouble his adventurous spirit can cause, developing the theme of Adventure and Maturity in a Risky World.

“Neither the mouse nor the boy was the least bit surprised that each could understand the other. Two creatures who shared a love for motorcycles naturally spoke the same language.”

Keith finds Ralph in the trash basket with the toy motorcycle, asks the mouse if he rode it into the basket, and hears Ralph confess to it. They’re on the same wavelength and clearly share a love of vehicles and adventure. This interaction develops the theme of The Challenge of Secret Friendships.

“Ralph discovered that if he made the noise fast, the motorcycle speeded up. If he slowed the sound, the motorcycle slowed down. He promptly speeded up and raced around in the rectangle of moonlight […] ‘Gee, you’re lucky,’ whispered the boy. In order to answer, Ralph had to stop. ‘I am?’ It had never occurred to him that a mouse could be luckier than a boy. ‘You sure are.’ The boy spoke with feeling. ‘My mother would never let me ride a motorcycle. She would say I might break a leg or something silly like that.’ ‘Well, if you want to come right down to it,’ said Ralph, ‘I don’t suppose my mother would be exactly crazy about the idea.’”

Keith and Ralph have barely met, and already they’re having fun with Keith’s toy motorcycle and discovering the problems they have in common. If both love motorcycles, and both have moms who disapprove, they share more than a boy and mouse might expect. This makes them natural allies and supports the theme of The Magic of Childhood. Keith at least wants to watch the mouse ride the motorcycle: It’s a way for him to see his toy come to life. As for Ralph being “lucky,” he’s too much in awe of the giant, powerful humans to appreciate fully his own good fortune. Keith sees through the illusion of size as power and recognizes the advantage Ralph has in making the fullest use of Keith’s own toys.

“Ralph really felt sorry for the boy, hampered as he was by his youth and his mother.”

Ralph doesn’t yet fully understand that he and Keith are more similar than they appear. Both yearn for adventure but must obey parents who keep them away from things the folks believe are dangerous. Ralph’s mother doesn’t disapprove of his motorcycle riding for the simple reason that she doesn’t know about it. However, Ralph’s attitude toward his mother changes as his character matures.

“Ralph started the motorcycle again and rode around in the moonlight once more, faster and faster, until he was dizzy from circling, dizzy with excitement, dizzy with the joy of speed. Never mind the danger, never mind what his mother thought. This was living. This was what he wanted to do. On and on and on.”

Ralph loves the freedom of the motorcycle. He can go where he wants on the tiny wheels. He feels overwhelmed by it, to the point where he doesn’t care about his mother’s concerns for his safety. Like Keith, Ralph is still a kid, one who strains against the limits placed on him by his elders. He doesn’t yet know that riding around thoughtlessly can lead to disaster. Ralph’s recklessness supports the theme of Adventure and Maturity in a Risky World.

“Ralph shot out into the moonlight, where he stopped, sitting jauntily on the motorcycle with one foot resting on the floor. ‘Say,’ he said, ‘how about letting me take her out in the hall? You know, just for a little spin to see how fast she’ll go.’ ‘Promise you’ll bring it back?’ asked Keith. ‘Scout’s honor,’ answered Ralph, who had picked up many expressions from children who had stayed in 215.”

Ralph is a smart mouse. He knows how to say the right things to Keith. Their alliance forms quickly, in the way of kids who make up games and quickly agree to rules that will maximize their fun. Ralph also knows not to take advantage of Keith’s generosity about loaning him the toy motorcycle. However, there is no guarantee that the young mouse won’t let himself be drawn into trouble, but that’s often what happens when adventures beckon.

“The boy opened the door and permitted Ralph to putt out into the dim light of the hall. Ralph had a scary feeling he was on the threshold of adventure. There were no beds or chairs for him to dart under in case of danger. The floor creaked. Someone was snoring in Room 214 across the hall. Outside in the pines an owl hooted, sending prickles up Ralph’s spine.”

Ralph suddenly enters an adventure bigger than any he’s yet had, and he feels the fear of doing something beyond his normal abilities. It’s not that he can’t already ride the motorcycle well; it’s that he will be doing it outside his home in Room 215. Many dangerous things are out there, from vacuums and predators to people who don’t want mice around. Ralph’s fear is part of the thrill. He simply must try out the motorcycle on the highway that is the hallway.

“Toward midnight he passed his Aunt Sissy scurrying along the baseboard. He waved and nearly lost control of the motorcycle. Aunt Sissy stopped to stare while Ralph rode on, feeling pleased with himself and at the same time sorry for Aunt Sissy, poor frightened thing with only her feet to carry her from one crumb to the next.”

Ralph thoroughly enjoys riding the toy motorcycle up and down the second-floor hallway. His new ability tempts him to feel superior to his mouse relatives. Riding is a unique way to rebel against all the restrictions placed on him by his nervous mother and her family. Like millions of kids before him, he believes he’s figured out how to live successfully in ways his parents failed to imagine.

“‘You didn’t have to stay out so long,’ Keith pointed out as he began to dress. ‘What’s the use of having a motorcycle if you can’t go tearing around staying out late?’ Ralph asked reasonably. ‘You don’t have a motorcycle,’ said Keith. ‘I just let you use mine. And you better be careful. I like that motorcycle and I don’t want anything to happen to it.’”

Ralph enjoys the motorcycle so much that he begins to think it’s his. Keith naturally pushes back and asserts ownership. Ralph backs down, but the mouse is beginning to feel braver and more ambitious. He wants to take the little vehicle farther than Keith would like and, given his limited experience, farther than is wise. Ralph’s initial selfishness develops the theme of Adventure and Maturity in a Risky World. Pushing against limitations, especially to enjoy something as wonderful as a working toy motorcycle, is something any kid might do, and Ralph is as much a kid as Keith.

“‘Ralph!’ cried his frightened mother. ‘You haven’t been associating with people!’ ‘Aw, he’s just a boy,’ said Ralph, deciding to keep the complete story of the dangers and the glories of the past night to himself. ‘He wouldn’t hurt us. He likes mice.’ ‘But he’s a person,’ said his mother. ‘That doesn’t mean he has to be bad,’ said Ralph. ‘Just like Pop used to say, people shouldn’t say all mice are timid just because some mice are. Or that all mice play when the cat’s away just because some do.’”

Ralph is growing up, and he’s impatient to explore the world. Already he’s arguing with his mother, siding with the very dangers his mom worries about. Ralph does exhibit an open-minded attitude about the big world, which can help him when he searches for food, but he also needs to be cautious. He is himself potential food for certain other creatures, including that big owl that lives outside.

“He heard her humming to herself as she plugged in the deadly machine and began to work it back and forth across the carpet. It’s nice she’s so happy, thought Ralph bitterly, as he watched the hungry machine devour dust and lint that lay in its path.”

The vacuum cleaner is a key symbol in the novel. Cleary personifies the vacuum cleaner as “hungry” to emphasize how dangerous the machine is for mice like Ralph. What’s boringly normal for a hotel maid is terrifying to a mouse. Ralph resents how she cleans the room, unaware of the mouse whose very life she holds in her hands. Of course, the maid might not care about Ralph even if she knew he was there: Her job isn’t to save mice but to get rid of them.

“‘That motorcycle was my very most favorite of all my cars,’ said Keith. ‘I saved my allowance and bought it myself.’ Ralph hung his head in his crash helmet. There was nothing more he could say. It was a terrible thing he had done. ‘I guess I should have known you weren’t old enough to be trusted with a motorcycle,’ said Keith. The boy could not have said anything that would hurt Ralph more.”

Ralph and motorcycle get stuck in some pillowcases and end up in a laundry hamper. To escape, Ralph abandons the motorcycle. He feels terribly guilty, and Keith, of course, is upset. The boy has been kind to Ralph, but the mouse has let his new friend down. Despite nearly dying in a vacuum cleaner and almost getting washed to death in the laundry, Ralph notices only the most important point: He goofed up.

“‘You mean you aren’t mad at me anymore?’ asked Ralph. ‘I guess you might say I’m mad but not real mad,’ Keith decided. ‘I’ve been lying here thinking. It wouldn’t be right for me to be real mad, because I get into messes myself. My mom and dad tell me I don’t stop to use my head.’ Ralph nodded. ‘I guess that’s my trouble, too. I don’t stop to use my head.’ ‘They say I’m in too much of a hurry,’ said Keith. ‘They say I don’t want to take time to learn to do things properly.’ Ralph nodded again. He understood.”

Ralph and Keith find that they understand each other more than they expected. Being young seems to be a similar experience for both mouse and boy. Some truths are universal, and learning wisdom, thoughtfulness, and care takes time for any creature to learn. Keith and Ralph realize that there’s more to their friendship than just motorcycles. In this way, the evolution of both Keith and Ralph’s characters thematically develops Adventure and Maturity in a Risky World.

“‘[…] I want to look grown up to grown-ups.’ ‘So do I,’ said Ralph with feeling. ‘I want to grow up and go down to the ground floor.’ ‘Everybody tells me to be patient,’ said Keith, ‘but I don’t want to be patient.’ ‘Me neither,’ agreed Ralph.”

Not only do Keith and Ralph struggle with the same challenges about learning how to do things without getting into trouble, but they both also want to do more than their parents will let them. Yet again, boy and mouse discover their parallel frustrations with the limitations of being children.

“‘He didn’t bring many peanuts.’ Uncle Lester did not sound the least bit grateful. ‘The greedy fellow is probably ill from stuffing himself with nuts he should have saved for us. Serves him right.’ ‘Now Lester,’ fussed Ralph’s mother. ‘The boy had a right to eat his own peanuts, but I do wish he hadn’t been quite so hungry.’”

With the exception of the selfish Uncle Lester, the other adult mice understand and sympathize with Keith’s condition. They’re grateful for his donations to their food supply, but they worry that, if he’s too sick to eat, he won’t be able to bring extra treats for them. The mice have a complicated relationship with their only human ally, about whom they care somewhat but from whom they need a great deal.

“Ralph watched anxiously, but this time he was not selfishly concerned about room service. He was concerned about Keith, the boy who had saved him from a terrible fate in the wastebasket and who had trusted him with his motorcycle, the boy who had forgiven him when he had lost that motorcycle and who had brought food, not only for Ralph, but for his whole family.”

Keith is sick, and Ralph’s family worries that they’ll starve if he doesn’t bring them cafeteria food during the hotel’s war on mice. Ralph is worried about that, too, but he also thinks of Keith as a friend, and it hurts him to see the boy suffer. Ralph’s concern indicates that his character is maturing.

“[…] the two young women knelt on the carpet to look at Ralph, who promptly turned his back. He did not care to be stared at in his misery, but it was no use. The women moved around to the other side of the glass. ‘Isn’t he darling?’ said Betty. ‘Just look at his cunning little paws.’ Mary Lou leaned closer for a better look. ‘And his little ears. Aren’t they sweet?’ Betty was delighted. It was disgusting. It was bad enough to be trapped and stared at, but to have this pair carrying on in such a gushy fashion was almost more than Ralph could stomach. Cunning little paws indeed! They were strong paws, paws for grasping the hand-grips of a motorcycle.”

Ralph gets captured by two young teachers while searching for a dropped aspirin to give to Keith. They admire him, but the experience humiliates the mouse because he has no say in the matter. It’s a sly object lesson about how humans, who wield enormous power over the world, often don’t realize how much pain they inflict on other creatures. The young women don’t mean to harm Ralph, but they don’t realize that they’ll do so if they don’t release him.

“‘Oh, Betty, do you suppose we could take him back to Wichita with us?’ asked Mary Lou. ‘My third grade would love him.’ ‘So would my kindergarten,’ agreed Betty. ‘We could keep him in a cage on the ledge and all the children could bring him food from home. It would be such a good experience for them to have a pet in the classroom.’ Well, thought Ralph grimly, I always wanted to travel. A cage in a kindergarten in Wichita, however, was not exactly the destination he had in mind.”

Ralph is learning a great deal about the world in a short time. His yearning for adventure, and even his laudable desire to risk himself to help Keith, put him into a dangerous situation that could wreck not only his own life but the lives of his relatives. If he survives, he’ll have much more respect for the dangers of the world outside his home, and he’ll better appreciate his mother’s fears for his safety.

“‘I suppose we really shouldn’t turn him loose in the hotel,’ said Mary Lou. ‘Mice are pests even if they are cute.’ The teacher not only destroyed Ralph’s hopes, she hurt his feelings as well, calling him a pest when he was on an errand of mercy. From the mouse’s point of view, the teachers were the pests.”

The gulf in understanding between Ralph and the young women is too great. He has no way of changing their minds and must endure the usual human attitude that he’s a simple rodent whose life gets no respect. As always, if there’s a conflict, the humans win. It feels grossly unfair to Ralph, whose purpose isn’t at all to cause harm to people.

“‘Now wait,’ said Ralph. ‘I can get it up here, but I’ve got to have some help. You’ll have to let me take your sports car.’ ‘You’re too young,’ mumbled Keith. ‘I am not.’ And it was true that Ralph felt very much older than he had when he lost the motorcycle. ‘Come on. You need that aspirin, don’t you?’”

Ralph has grown up. He argues, not in favor of his own pleasure, but for the benefit of his human friend. He bargains cleverly, maneuvering Keith into a position where he must permit Ralph to drive a tiny car that can ferry the aspirin tablet back to Keith’s room. They settle on Ralph driving the toy ambulance, which is a better choice, as it has rear doors and a large interior that makes the process of retrieving the aspirin easier. Ralph is turning into a mouse friend worth having.

“‘Golly!’ Keith was amazed at Ralph’s story. ‘You know what? You’re a pretty smart mouse. And a brave one, too.’ ‘It was nothing,’ said Ralph in an offhand manner. ‘Nothing! It was plenty. You risked your life!’ The boy’s admiration and gratitude made Ralph feel even prouder of what he had done.”

Ralph describes how he retrieved an aspirin for Keith as if it was all in a day’s work. He’s entitled to show off a little since he really did do a brave thing. What matters most to the mouse is the boy’s approval. It also matters to him that Keith feels better, and Ralph is glad he had something to do with that. Motorcycle riding is thrilling, but knowing he’s done a worthwhile deed is an even greater pleasure.

“‘There isn’t much around this hotel that escapes my attention,’ said Matt. ‘I saw that mouse out in the hall with the little motorcycle. I imagine he’s a regular speed demon.’ Ralph could no longer stay out of the conversation. ‘I’m fast but I’m careful. I haven’t had an accident yet,’ he boasted, and added hastily, recalling his fall into the wastebasket, ‘at least not since I learned to ride the motorcycle.’”

Glad to have the sympathetic attention of another human, Ralph brags a bit about his abilities on the motorcycle. He knows full well that his riding activities also caused a commotion among the hotel staff and problems for his mouse family, but his recent expedition to retrieve an aspirin tablet has earned him some well-deserved plaudits.