Ralph was hungry. So hungry he couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, trying to ignore the empty feeling in his stomach.

There was no food in the house at all. Ralph’s mother had left two hours ago to try to find some work – maybe at a restaurant. She hoped she could make some money or at least bring home some food.

She hated to leave Ralph home alone at night. But they were so hungry and desperate she didn’t have a choice. “Don’t open the door or leave the house,” she warned. “Just try to sleep and then you won’t feel so hungry.”

Ralph tried to be brave, but it was scary in the house by himself. He couldn’t stop thinking about the witch who lived at the end of the block.

His mother kept telling him there was no such thing as witches and that he was being silly. But Ralph didn’t believe her. He thought it was just the kind of thing she would tell him so that he wouldn’t worry or be scared – just like when she told him that Abuelita would get well.

Now Abuelita was gone and the shabby little house felt even emptier than his stomach. He missed her a lot. He also missed the good things she made to eat. Ralph wished he had some of her special cheese – spiced the way they made it in Mexico.

Ralph turned restlessly in the bed. His mother had been wrong about Abuelita. So maybe she was wrong about the witch, too. No one had ever seen the witch. But they knew she lived inside the boarded up wreck of a house, a big old house that had once been very grand.

The people in the neighborhood went out of their way not to pass the house or walk across her yard. Who knew what kind of spell she might put on them?

Some of the older boys would throw rocks at her house at night to prove how brave they were. They would yell, “Go away, Witch!” But they always ran away before she could come out of the house and work some witch magic on them.

Ralph’s stomach growled and the sound seemed to echo through the empty room. When Abuelita was alive, there had always been someone at home. He wished he had someone to talk to. Or to laugh with.

Suddenly Ralph couldn’t stand it any more. He was tired of being hungry and scared of being alone. The next-door neighbors seemed pretty nice. He knew they had made cheese that morning. Maybe if he dropped by for a visit, they would offer him some. If he could just have a little bite of cheese and a little company – just for a little while - it would be easier to be brave about staying alone in the house.

Ralph wanted to go next door more than anything now. But his mother had told him not to leave the house. She had also told him never ever to beg. “Our problems are not our neighbors’ problems,” she said. “Our problems are not their business either.”

He sure didn’t want to get into any trouble with his mom. If she didn’t find work tonight, she might come home early. And if she came home early and found him gone she would be very angry.

There was only one thing to do. He would have to sneak out and be sure he could sneak back in.

Ralph jumped up, got dressed, and then piled some laundry in his bed. If his mom came home early, she would peek in the door of his room and think he was asleep. If he left the house and came back in through his bedroom window, she would never know he had been gone.

Ralph opened the window and climbed out. The neighborhood was dark and spooky, but the next-door neighbors’ porch lights were on, as if to welcome him. Soon he would be with people. They would be glad to see him. They would invite him in and give him something to eat. Ralph’s heart began to lift.

There was a fence around the neighbors’ yard. Ralph pushed the gate open, and it made a soft creak. Before he could take two steps, their big dog came tearing out from behind the house. The dog growled and barked like he wanted to tear Ralph from limb to limb.

Ralph turned and ran away as fast as he could, forgetting to shut the gate. Uh oh! That meant the dog could come running out from behind the fence.

The dog chased Ralph onto the sidewalk, snapping at his heels. Ralph ran for his life. Faster and faster. He could almost feel the dog’s snarling breath. Riiiiiip. The dog tore the leg of his pants. Ralph doubled his speed, leaving one leg of his pants behind.

The dog ran faster, too. Suddenly, Ralph was at the end of the block. No one was on the street. Nobody’s porch lights were on. There was no one to help him.

Ralph spied an open gate. It was old and rusty. Ralph ran through the gate and up onto a porch. He banged at the door, yelling “Help! Help!” before he realized whose house it was.

It was the witch’s house!

Ralph drew in his breath. Oh, no! How could he have made such a stupid and dangerous mistake? He whirled around, preparing to run, but found himself face to face with the dog. Wicked white fangs gleamed in the moonlight.

Ralph backed up until he was pressed against the front door of the old house. There was no escape now. He watched the dog’s muscles coil as it prepared to spring.

Then suddenly, miraculously, the door behind Ralph opened. A small hand closed over the back of his shirt and yanked him inside. The front door slammed shut again just as the dog lunged. Ralph heard the dog bounce off the front door with a surprised “Yipe!”

“Who are you? What do you want?” a croaky old voice demanded.

Ralph turned and saw that his rescuer was a tiny old lady leaning on a stick. She looked older than any old lady he had ever seen. She was dressed in raggedy black clothes, and she eyed Ralph with suspicion and anger.

It was the witch!

“Speak up, you. What are you doing in my yard? Are you a vandal? A thief?”

“No,” Ralph said quickly. “I didn’t mean to come into your yard. I was trying to get away from the dog.”

“Why was the dog chasing you if you’re not a thief?” she asked.

“I was just trying to go visit my neighbor,” he protested. “The dog didn’t understand.”

Her beady eyes narrowed. “You’re a little young to go visiting this late at night,” she pointed out. “What were you really doing out there? Getting ready to throw rocks at my house? Getting ready to scream ‘Go away, Witch?’ ”

“I wanted some cheese,” he said.

“Cheese? Why do you want some cheese?”

He felt his face turn red. He was ashamed of his family’s poverty. But there was no point in lying to a witch. She could probably read his mind anyway. “I was hungry,” he said quietly. “We don’t have any food.”

The witch looked at him a long time and then nodded. “I’ll give you some cheese,” she said. “But first you have to do something for me.”

Ralph’s stomach clenched. What would the old witch want him to do? Help her brew something in a cauldron? Turn children into toads?

“I want you to find my rat,” she said.

Ralph gasped. A rat! What did she want with a rat?

“All that commotion outside scared my rat. He ran off and disappeared. I’m worried about him.”

“You mean he’s your pet?” Ralph asked. He’d never heard of anybody keeping a rat for a pet.

“He’s tame,” she explained. “But if he’s scared, he won’t come when I call him.” She stumped into the living room with her stick. “Most of the time he sits on my shoulder.” Her face darkened angrily. “But when boys from the neighborhood throw rocks at the house, he gets scared. Then I have to put him in a cage so he won’t run off and get eaten by one of the neighborhood cats.”

She pointed in the direction of a large cage and motioned him over to inspect it. The cage was very large with a little tuft of carpet in the corner for a bed. There was a bowl for water and a few little bells and balls for toys. It looked like a pretty nice place for a rat.

Ralph wondered why, if she was a witch, she didn’t just use some magic to make the cats leave her rat alone. But before he could say anything, he spotted the end of a long tail disappearing around the corner.

“There he is!” Ralph ran toward the tail and turned the corner. He saw the rat scurrying up the stairs. It was dark at the top of the stairs. Almost black. Ralph’s heart was already racing. The thought of going up into that dark second story was terrifying.

But he wanted something to eat. And he didn’t want the witch to hurt him. So he ran up the stairs and chased the rat into a room.

The rat disappeared into the shadows. Ralph stood very still, listening. After a few moments, he heard a scuffling noise.

Ralph peered through the gloom, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Finally, he spotted the silhouette of the rat in the corner. He quietly started toward it. One step. Another step. And then another. Finally, he stood only a few inches away. Slowly and gently he reached out his hand. He was just about to close it over the small animal when….

….BUMP!

…the old witch reached the top of the stairs and banged her stick on the floor to steady herself.

Startled at the noise, the rat darted away again. He disappeared through a crack in the wall next to a broken window. Ralph ran to the window and poked his head out. He saw the rat running up a drainpipe outside the house.

“I think he’s going to the roof,” Ralph said. “And I think I can catch him. What’s his name?”

“Oscar.”

Ralph climbed out the window and used the nearby tree branches to climb further.

“Be careful,” the old witch cried.

Ralph climbed as carefully as he could and soon he was high enough to step onto the roof of the house. He could see out over the whole neighborhood. He saw the neighbors’ yards and homes. He saw his own little house. And he saw a small figure trudging toward it.

His mom!

Suddenly, Ralph realized what he had done. He had snuck out. He had gotten himself caught by a witch. And because his mom would think he was sleeping in his own bed, she probably wouldn’t realize he was missing until she tried to wake him in the morning. By then, the witch could have turned him into a chicken and cooked him for her breakfast. His mom would never know what happened to him.

But as he stood there looking down on the world, he realized he wasn’t really scared of the witch anymore, but he wasn’t sure why. From up high, he could see lots of houses and lots of lights. Houses full of people. He had felt so alone in his own little house. But all the time, there had been people all around. Maybe he didn’t know them and they didn’t know him. But surely someone, somewhere, would care what happened to a little boy like him. The air was cool and he took some deep breaths, beginning to feel happy – despite the fact he was stuck on top of a witch’s roof.

He heard a scuffling sound. “Oscar,” he called in a gentle tone. “Oscaarrr….” The rat appeared and stared at him. Clearly, Oscar was curious about this stranger who knew his name, but also very suspicious.

Ralph took careful steps toward him. “Good rat. That’s right. Stay right there. I’ll take you home. Just stay there and…. YEOOOOWWWWW!”

The surface below Ralph’s feet was as soft as wet cardboard. Ralph fell right through the rotten wood of the roof and … “OUCH!” … landed on a rickety old bed in the room below.

STUMP! STUMP! STUMP!

The old witch came hurrying into the room. “Are you hurt?”

Ralph carefully sat up on the bouncy, creaky old bed. “No,” he said, feeling slightly amazed. “I’m not hurt.” He looked up at the big hole in the ceiling. Beams of moonlight shone through. “I’m really, really sorry about your roof. It wasn’t my fault. I promise. Please don’t turn me into a chicken or a toad.”

The old witch’s stern face broke into a smile and she cackled in the way old ladies do. It reminded him of Abuelita. “Now, now. You don’t really believe in witches, do you?” Her black eyes shone in the moonlight.

Ralph couldn’t help smiling back. Suddenly, the idea seemed completely ridiculous. “No, ma’am,” he said. “I don’t think I do.”

“Good. Because you look like a nice, sensible boy to me. Much too sensible to believe in witches.”

Of course she wasn’t a witch, Ralph thought. She was just a very lonely old lady with no friends. Who else but a lonely old lady would turn to a rat for friendship?

The old lady motioned to him to follow her. She led him down the steps, leaning heavily on her stick. “Come on,” she said. “I will give you something to eat.”

“But I didn’t catch your rat.”

“No, but you tried. And I can’t let a little boy go home to bed hungry.” She led him into the kitchen and opened the door to a rusty old refrigerator. Inside, there was nothing at all except for one very tiny piece of cheese wrapped in wax paper. She carefully unwrapped the cheese and put it on a plate. Then she graciously invited him to sit down and placed it in front of him.

Ralph stared at the cheese. His stomach growled. His mouth watered. He wanted that cheese more than anything else in the world. His hunger was suddenly overwhelming.

He reached out and took the cheese in his hand. He lifted it toward his mouth. The cheese smelled just like his grandmother’s cheese. He loved the way it smelled.

And he knew Oscar would, too.

Ralph looked over and saw a tiny dish in the corner on which someone had painted O S C A R in nail polish. Quickly, before he could change his mind, Ralph took the cheese and dropped it in Oscar’s bowl. “Let’s sit here very quietly and see if we can work some cheese magic,” he said.

The old lady cackled softly and Ralph giggled. They sat together for what seemed like a long, long time. Neither one said a word. Finally, they heard the faintest scuffling sound coming from behind the wall somewhere.

They looked at one another, both of them hoping against hope. Would Oscar come for his cheese?

They heard the sound of little nails coming closer and closer. Ralph usually shivered with disgust when he heard the sound of rats in the wall. But this time, the sound made him happy.

A few moments later, a tiny nose and whiskers appeared through a hole in the wall. The nose and whiskers vibrated while Oscar made up his mind whether or not to come all the way out. Ralph hoped he wouldn’t take one look at him and run away again. He sat as still as a stone, hardly daring to breathe.

Finally, Oscar hopped through the hole and landed gracefully on the floor of the kitchen. He scurried to the bowl, looked briefly back over his shoulder at Ralph, and then lowered his head to eat, ignoring Ralph completely.

Ralph and the old lady let out their breath. Oscar was home. And he had accepted Ralph as a friend. He wouldn’t run away again. At least not from Ralph.

The old lady looked sadly at Ralph. “I’m so sorry. I don’t have any other food,” she said sadly. “You’ve gone to all this trouble for nothing.”

Ralph stood. “That’s okay. Don’t worry. I’m just glad you got Oscar back.”

Leaning on her stick, she walked Ralph to the door. “Be careful going home. Look out for dogs.” She winked. “Look out for witches, too.”

Ralph smiled and hurried away as fast as he could. Not because he was scared. He wasn’t. Not anymore. He wasn’t scared of anything. But he wanted to be sure his mom was okay.

He felt bad that she had come home early. That meant she hadn’t found any work. Ralph knew his mother was hungry, too.

When he reached his home, he ran around to the back of the house and snuck in his bedroom window. Quickly, he changed back into his pajamas. He mussed up his hair so it would look like he had been asleep. Then he went into the living room and yawned.

His mother sat in a chair looking sad and tired. “Ralph! You’re awake.”

“I just woke up,” he said. “What happened?”

She hung her head. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t find any work. I didn’t make any money. There is nothing to eat. Maybe tomorrow will be different.” She stood up and walked over the refrigerator. “We can at least have some cold water,” she said with a wry smile. She opened the refrigerator, let out a little shriek, and then slammed it shut again. Her hands flew to her face in alarm and dismay.

Ralph ran to her side. “What’s the matter? What’s wrong? What’s in there?”

When she didn’t answer, he opened the door himself. He couldn’t believe what he saw. He blinked. He rubbed his eyes. He stared, completely and totally amazed.

The refrigerator was full. There was a platter piled high with cheese – all kinds of cheese. There was a roasted chicken and a plate of sausages. There was a loaf of freshly baked brown bread and a bowl of creamy butter. There were two gallons of milk and two gallons of orange juice. There were a dozen eggs and a big cake with chocolate coconut frosting.

“Where did it come from?” his mother gasped. “Who brought this?” She looked at Ralph with wonder and deep suspicion. “Ralph, is there something I should know?”

Ralph smiled. “Yes. There is something you should know.” He began removing the food from the refrigerator and carrying it to the table. “You should know that I don’t believe in witches anymore.” He dipped his finger into the edge of the chocolate cake and licked it, tasting the sweet coconut frosting. He closed his eyes and sighed with happiness. “But I do believe in angels.”

THE END