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    Murphy & Mousetrap
    Murphy & Mousetrap
    Murphy & Mousetrap
    Ebook91 pages1 hour

    Murphy & Mousetrap

    By Sylvia Olsen

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    About this ebook

    Murphy's mother has just moved him and their cat, Mousetrap, back to the reserve in Port Alberni. Although he belongs to the Nuu-chah-nulth Nation, Murphy is sure that he won't fit in, and he worries about Mousetrap, who has always been an indoor cat. When a bunch of local boys drag him to their soccer practice, put him in goal and pelt him with balls, he believes that his worst fear has come true. However, he seems to be discovering a new talent at the same time. And perhaps he has misjudged. Being a light-skinned city boy thrust onto a reserve far from the city is not easy, but maybe Murphy has what it takes.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherOrca Book Publishers
    Release dateApr 1, 2005
    ISBN9781554696758
    Murphy & Mousetrap
    Author

    Sylvia Olsen

    Sylvia Olsen is an award-winning author of many books, including young adult novels, first readers, picture books, history and personal-essay. She also writes about knitting and designs knitting patterns. Sylvia teaches First Nations housing management at Vancouver Island University and works toward creating new housing opportunities on reserves in Canada. Sylvia lives in North Saanich, British Columbia on W̱SÁNEĆ territory.

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      Book preview

      Murphy & Mousetrap - Sylvia Olsen

      Adam

      1

      Murphy plunked his schoolbag on the hall floor and stuck his hand in his pocket. He rummaged through the stones he had picked up on the way home from school until he felt the apartment key on its loop of string. Mom had made him promise to wear the key around his neck so it wouldn’t get lost, but it tickled when it hung against his body. And it strangled him when he pulled his sweatshirt over his head, so he had stuffed the key in his pocket.

      He slid the key into the lock and jiggled it back and forth until the door opened.

      Hey, Mousetrap, I’m home, Murphy called.

      He walked through the living room to his bedroom and threw his coat and bag on the bed.

      Mousetrap, where are you? Murphy said. He placed his hands on his hips like Mom did when she really meant what she was saying.

      I’m coming, he called.

      He kicked off his shoes and walked softly on his toes.

      I’ll find you.

      Each afternoon after school Murphy and Mousetrap played the same game. As soon as Mousetrap heard Murphy open the door he ran to one of his favorite hiding spots. When Murphy called, the cat stayed perfectly still. Every afternoon Murphy stood in the living room, hands on his hips, acting as mad as he could muster. Then he tiptoed from room to room, peeking in corners and closets and cupboards.

      I’m coming, ready or not, Murphy said in his sternest voice. He slipped into the bathroom, pulled back the shower curtain and peeked into the bathtub. It was empty.

      He tiptoed back into his bedroom, lifted the corner of his bedspread and peeked under the bed. He checked around the books stacked under the computer table and glanced behind the computer monitor: that was Mousetrap’s favorite sleeping spot. He loved to lie next to the warm screen, but Murphy had a feeling he wouldn’t be there when the computer was turned off.

      You little sneak, Murphy called out. Sometimes, like today, Mousetrap picked such a good hiding spot that Murphy had trouble finding him. Although Murphy liked the game, he got a lump in his throat when, after a few minutes, he couldn’t find his cat. He worried that one day Mousetrap might not be there. Could Mousetrap have found a way out of the apartment? Could he have climbed out the window and wandered off?

      Come on, Mousetrap! Murphy called. This time he had a quiver in his voice. I know you’re here.

      Mom’s room was next. As he entered, he thought he saw the edge of the bedspread twitch slightly. Murphy tiptoed across the floor and lifted the bedspread. Mousetrap’s thick fluffy white tail sprang out from under the bed. Murphy dropped to his knees and gathered up his cat.

      I got you, he said. He buried his face in the furry ball. Good hiding spot.

      Mousetrap was just as happy as Murphy when he was finally found. He rubbed his soft face against Murphy’s cheek and climbed up onto his shoulders. He curled around Murphy’s neck and hung on as Murphy went into the kitchen and made a peanut-butter-and-jam sandwich. When Murphy was finished he sat down at his computer to scan the Internet for Web sites that would describe the stone he had found on the way home from school. Mousetrap stepped off his shoulders, crept across the keyboard and tucked himself into his favorite spot beside the computer screen.

      Murphy dug in his pockets and pulled out a handful of stones. Dirt, leaves and sand spilled onto the floor as he laid the stones in a row on the computer desk. Most of the stones were gray, or gray and black or white. But when he had passed the park that afternoon he had wandered up the path instead of staying right on the sidewalk as he had promised. Out of the corner of his eye, Murphy had glimpsed a dark green stone unlike anything he had ever seen. It was wedged in tight next to a rock outcropping. After he pried it out, spat on it and rubbed it against his pant leg, the stone glistened like a marble.

      Mousetrap lay in a sleepy pile with his eyes open just enough to watch Murphy place the stones into a pile.

      So, Mousetrap, Murphy said, passing the small green stone in front of his cat’s half-open eyes. What kind of stone do you think this is?

      Mousetrap’s ears shot up and he opened his blue eyes wide. His tail was curled around his body, and the tip rested under his chin. It twitched as he examined the stone.

      Murphy waited patiently as if Mousetrap would identify the stone, before he placed it next to others. Soon Murphy had three piles. Each pile contained similar stones. Mousetrap and Murphy examined the stones and the Web sites until they heard the key turn in the front door. Then Murphy grabbed Mousetrap and ran into the bathroom. He jumped into the bathtub and pulled the shower curtain around them. He tucked his cat onto his lap, took a deep breath and held on until he heard the door open.

      Murphy, I’m home, Mom called.

      She shut the door and walked through the hall to the kitchen. Murphy heard plastic bags drop on to the kitchen floor and then a shuffle, which was probably Mom taking off her coat and throwing it over a kitchen chair.

      Mousetrap, Mom called. Where are you?

      Murphy didn’t move, and Mousetrap stayed perfectly still. Murphy imagined

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