Surprises According to Humphrey Read online

  Tabitha and Richie made clouds in all kinds of shapes—even triangles and squares. Gail and Sayeh tacked a row of colorful flowers all around the chalkboard. There was a pattern to the colors, and it took me a while to figure it out. Garth and A.J. made a huge kite with a LONG-LONG-LONG tail that had a LONG-LONG-LONG problem on it.

  I began to jog with joy. Spring was bright! Spring was happy! Spring was fun!

  While Mrs. Brisbane helped hang the kite, I suddenly hit the leg of Seth’s desk and veered off toward the door, which was open to let in the spring breeze.

  I sailed out of Room 26, and not one of my friends noticed.

  “HELP-HELP-HELP!” I squeaked. In the distance, I heard Og’s “BOING!” but everything was completely silent in the hall. As I rolled out of Room 26, toward the side door, I wondered if I’d end up on the playground again. I frantically tried to guide the ball away from the door, but it wouldn’t turn quickly enough.

  Luckily, the door was closed tightly, so I bounced off of it. Now I was heading toward another door. It was FAR-FAR-FAR away, past a long row of classrooms. Suddenly, I wished Aldo hadn’t polished the floor quite so well. I also wished the hamster ball had brakes. The best I could do to slow it down was to stop moving my legs.

  What an unsqueakably dangerous situation for a small hamster! At least my cage had that lock-that-doesn’t-lock. But there was no way for me to get out of the ball.

  “Good-bye, Room 26!” I squeaked.

  Suddenly I heard a piercingly loud noise. (Hamsters are very sensitive creatures, and we don’t appreciate loud noises.)

  “Stop right there,” a voice firmly ordered me. The ball stopped abruptly, and this time I did a triple flip. But I recognized the voice…and the shrill sound. It was Mrs. Wright and her whistle. She was standing directly in front of me with one of her huge, white, puffy shoes resting on top of the ball.

  Just for fun, I guess, she blew her whistle again.

  “Mrs. Brisbane!” she bellowed.

  Mrs. Brisbane rushed out into the hallway and hurried toward us. “What’s wrong, Mrs. Wright?”

  That sounded funny, but I wasn’t in the mood to laugh. I was afraid Mrs. Wright might blow her whistle again.

  “I just happened to be coming down the hall when I found your rat out here!”

  “For goodness’ sake.” Mrs. Brisbane leaned down and picked up the ball. “How did you get out here?”

  “You created a very dangerous situation,” said Mrs. Wright. “Someone could trip over him and get hurt.”

  “Well, no one did,” said Mrs. Brisbane. “Don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”

  Mrs. Wright sniffed loudly. “Still, I must report this to Mr. Morales.”

  “Do whatever you think you should.” Mrs. Brisbane sounded a little snippy, and I was GLAD-GLAD-GLAD. “Come on, Humphrey.”

  My classmates gathered at the door, waiting for my return.

  “Back in your seats,” Mrs. Brisbane told them. “And you, Humphrey, are going back in your cage.”

  I was so happy to be home, I took a long drink of water, then headed straight for my sleeping hut and a nice long doze.

  WHISTLE: A shiny device that, when someone blows in it, makes an earsplitting sound that can seriously hurt the delicate ears of small creatures like hamsters. Use whistles sparingly, if at all. (Some humans can whistle without a device, but hamsters never can.)

  Humphrey’s Dictionary of Wonderful Words

  Spring Fever

  Wait-for-the-Bell-Garth!” Mrs. Brisbane’s words jolted me from my nap.

  Garth always jumped out of his chair just before the bell rang for recess, lunch or the end of the day. When Mrs. Brisbane reminded him, he sat back down until the bell actually rang.

  “Now you may go, class,” Mrs. Brisbane said.

  Once the room was empty, she shuffled the papers on her desk. Then the door opened and in came Principal Morales.

  “Got a second, Sue?” he asked.

  “Of course,” Mrs. Brisbane greeted him. “What can I do for you?”

  “Ruth Wright put in a complaint. It’s about…”

  Mrs. Brisbane finished his sentence. “Humphrey.”

  The principal smiled. “Yeah. Just try and keep him in the classroom.”

  “I intend to,” said Mrs. Brisbane.

  “Don’t worry.” Mr. Morales chuckled. “She also complained about the squeaky door in the cafeteria, some fingerprints on the trophy case and the fact that the clocks are running thirty seconds slow.”

  “Well, she teaches P.E. I guess rules are very important to her.”

  Mr. Morales strolled over to my cage. “So Humphrey had a little adventure today? Maybe he has spring fever,” he said.

  “I think the whole class does,” Mrs. Brisbane answered. “It happens every year. The weather turns nice and the class gets silly.”

  The principal leaned in close to my cage. “Well, no more silliness from you, Humphrey. You stay put.”

  “I will try because that Mrs. Wright is MEAN-MEAN-MEAN!” I squeaked.

  Mr. Morales chuckled. “Aw, don’t let it bother you, Humphrey. Mrs. Wright likes to complain.”

  Then he turned back to Mrs. Brisbane. “Don’t forget, deadline’s coming up, Sue.”

  “Sorry. I forgot. I’ll write myself a note.”

  Mr. Morales smiled. “Great.”

  The bell rang again, and the principal excused himself. In seconds, my classmates came racing back into the room, pink-cheeked, out of breath and smiling. At least most of them were smiling.

  “Good game, Tabby,” Seth told Tabitha. “We almost won.”

  “Yeah, we would have if it wasn’t for you-know-who,” she answered.

  Then she glanced at Garth, who was right behind her. He definitely wasn’t smiling.

  “Take your seats, children,” Mrs. Brisbane said. “Get out your social studies books and turn to page 112.”

  Sometimes being a classroom hamster is like being a detective. You hear little bits of conversation and try to figure out what’s going on. Like, what was that about Mrs. Brisbane forgetting something Mr. Morales wanted? She never forgets anything! And why did Tabitha say “you-know-who” instead of Garth’s name? And why wasn’t Garth happy, like everybody else?

  I was sorting out my thoughts when something even more puzzling happened.

  Rather than reading his social studies book, Garth was writing something in big letters on a piece of paper, but I couldn’t see what he wrote.

  He kept the paper on his desk and read the book, but he stopped to look at the paper once in a while. Then he wrote another word next to it.

  I climbed up my ladder to see if I could get a better look at it.

  “Og?” I squeaked softly. “Can you see what Garth wrote on that paper?”

  I heard some gentle splashing but no answer.

  Mrs. Brisbane started writing questions on the board, and soon my friends were busily writing the answers. This went on until the lunch bell rang.

  My classmates all got up and headed for the door. Garth pushed forward, clutching the paper in his hand. He paused near A.J.’s desk and dropped the paper in front of his friend, then hurried toward the door. A.J. stared at the piece of paper, crumpled it into a ball and dropped it on the floor. (Uh-oh. Aldo wouldn’t like that!)

  When Mrs. Brisbane got ready to leave for lunch, she spotted the paper on the floor, picked it up and smoothed it out. She frowned when she read it, then put it on her desk and left the room.

  “Something is unsqueakably wrong between Garth and A.J.,” I told Og. “I’ve got to know what that paper says!”

  It’s a LONG-LONG-LONG way from the table where Og and I live to Mrs. Brisbane’s desk and it’s a perilous journey, but once I’m curious about something, I can’t get it out of my furry hamster head.

  “Keep a lookout, Oggy, okay?” I told my friend. “I’m going over there.”

  He answered with a reassuring “BOING!”

  I pus
hed on the lock-that-doesn’t-lock and the door swung open. I took a deep breath and, as I had done before, grabbed onto the leg of the table and slid down so fast, I could feel the breeze ruffling my fur.

  I zigzagged across the room, happy to be outside the ball, since I didn’t have to worry about bouncing off tables or chairs. I quickly reached Mrs. Brisbane’s desk at the opposite side of the room. I can’t tell you how tall it looks from a hamster’s point of view.

  Between the chair legs were two horizontal wooden bars. I reached UP-UP-UP, grabbed the lowest bar and slowly pulled myself up.

  “Are you watching the clock, Og?” I squeaked.

  “BOING!” Og answered.

  Grabbing the next bar, I used all my strength to pull myself up. I was getting tired, but knowing that lunch didn’t last very long, I wrapped my legs around the chair leg and slowly inched my way up to the seat.

  I sat there for a few seconds, trying to catch my breath. I was still a long way from the desktop and that piece of paper. Above my head, there was a desk drawer with a handle on it. I had to leap up to grab hold of it—ooh, cold and slippery—and then I reached up for the edge of the desk and pulled myself up again, finally flinging my whole body onto the surface of the desk.

  I lay there on my stomach, muscles quivering from all that work. It’s a good thing I work out every day on my wheel and my ladder. It helps strengthen my arms. Or my legs. Or whatever.

  “BOING-BOING!” said Og, and I didn’t need to look at the clock to know I needed to hurry things along. I sat up and saw the piece of paper laid out neatly before me. Of course, to my small eyes, the letters were huge, I had to squint and strain to finally make out what it said.

  DIRTY RAT

  That was it? I’d come all this way and put myself in great danger to read the words Dirty Rat? I had no idea what Garth was getting at, although I knew that being called a rat, which sometimes happens to me, is not supposed to be a compliment.

  Og began splashing wildly. I glanced up at the clock and OH-OH-OH, I barely had time to get back!

  I had to take the quickest (though not the safest) route back, so I slid down the side of the desk, landed on the floor with a large thump, raced across the room and grabbed onto the cord of the blinds, which I always use for swinging myself back up to the table.

  “BOING-BOING-BOING-BOING!” Og sounded like the fire alarm, but all I could think about was getting back to my cage on time. I heard the bell ring as I skittered across the table and swung the cage door behind me.

  Every muscle in my small body ached.

  “BOING!” Og twanged.

  “The paper…says…Dirty Rat,” I told him, panting from all my effort. “But don’t…ask me why.”

  All that work and I still didn’t know what was going on!

  My classmates began to trickle in from lunch. As usual, Miranda was with her best friend, Sayeh, and other best friends were together: Heidi and Gail, Seth and Tabitha, A.J. and—whoa! It was very unusual to see A.J. without Garth.

  A.J. slid into his seat first. When Garth sat down, A.J. leaned over. I strained my small furry ears to hear.

  “What was that about? That ‘dirty rat’ thing?”

  Garth glared at A.J. “Friends don’t pick their best friends last. Rats do.”

  “You’re my friend,” A.J. protested. “You’re just not very good at sports.”

  “Like I need you to remind me,” muttered Garth.

  Right then, Mrs. Brisbane started to talk about seeds sprouting, and there was no chance to learn more about the trouble between Garth and A.J.

  “Wait-After-Class-Garth,” Mrs. Brisbane said when the bell rang at the end of the day.

  “Og, did you hear that?” I asked. “She didn’t say Wait-for-the-Bell-Garth. She said Wait-After-Class-Garth.”

  Og splashed a bit, but I’m pretty sure he heard, too.

  The room emptied out quickly, and soon Garth was alone with Mrs. Brisbane. Being kept after class is never a good thing, at least in my experience. And in my months in Room 26, a number of my friends had been kept after school.

  Mrs. Brisbane went to her desk and picked up the crumpled paper. “Did you write this, Garth?”

  Garth shrugged.

  “It looks like your writing,” the teacher continued.

  “I was just fooling around,” answered Garth.

  “I found it under A.J.’s desk,” Mrs. Brisbane explained. “I thought the two of you were friends.”

  “We’re not friends.” Garth wrinkled his nose. “Not anymore.”

  Mrs. Brisbane sat down and looked thoughtful. “Would you tell me what happened?”

  “I’ve got to catch my bus,” Garth answered, looking toward the door.

  “Think about it and we’ll talk tomorrow.” Mrs. Brisbane folded up the piece of paper and dropped it in her purse. “I’ll just hold on to this.”

  Garth raced out of the door without looking back. Mrs. Brisbane stayed sitting in the chair. She stared at the student tables, the bulletin board, the chalkboard. She looked at the room as if she’d never seen it before.

  After a while, she picked up her books and her purse and came over to adjust the blinds. “I hope you two can get along for the rest of the night,” she told Og and me.

  “We’ll TRY-TRY-TRY!” I assured her, and I meant it.

  Og didn’t say anything, but I don’t think he was mad at me or anything like that.

  Maybe he just had spring fever.

  RAT: A perfectly nice rodent with a bad reputation. Some rats make nice pets. There are rats of all shapes and sizes, but when one human calls another human a rat, it’s never meant as a compliment.

  Humphrey’s Dictionary of Wonderful Words

  Surprise from Outer Space

  I don’t know if I had spring fever, but I did have aching muscles following my adventure that afternoon. Besides that, I had a funny feeling in my tummy after I read the note that said Dirty Rat.

  I ate a good helping of Nutri-Nibbles, but my stomach still felt weird.

  Later, Og and I were both in a somewhat dreamy state when the door opened, the lights came on and I heard a familiar squeaking sound.

  “It’s Aldo!” I rushed to the front of my cage to greet my friend. I was hoping he would be a little easier to understand than he had been the night before.

  “BOING!” Og sounded quite alarmed, and I could see why.

  There was Aldo’s cart, piled high with his broom, his mop and pail, lots of spray bottles and cloths and trash bags to be filled.

  And there was someone pushing the cart, just as Aldo did every night during the week.

  But that person was NOT-NOT-NOT Aldo!

  “Eek!” I squeaked.

  The person with the cart was much shorter than Aldo. The person had no mustache and had longer hair, pulled back in a ponytail. The person had on a red sweatshirt and gray sweatpants and black high-tops.

  That person was definitely a girl. Or a woman. A female, anyway. And there was something strange about the way she moved. She tugged at her ear, snapped her fingers and swung her arms in an odd rhythm. Still, she straightened the desks, swept the floor, then mopped it (which Aldo didn’t do every night). She even dusted the shelf where Og and I live, but she didn’t seem to notice we were there.

  “How do you do?” I squeaked up as politely as possible. “Could you please tell me, WHAT DID YOU DO WITH ALDO?”

  Og seemed quite upset as he hopped up and down, up and down, repeating one “BOING” after another.

  The person who was cleaning didn’t even seem to notice. As she swept closer to my cage, I saw there was a device attached to her ear!

  “Og,” I said nervously. “I saw a movie at Seth’s house once about an alien from another planet, and that alien acted very strange. Kind of like this person.”

  Og stopped hopping and started listening.

  “You don’t think she could be one of them?” I asked. “Because in that movie, the space aliens captured a human a
nd took him to their planet. I mean, you don’t think that happened to Aldo, do you?”

  Og stayed very quiet.

  “In the movie, the space alien had wires in his head, too.”

  I was sorry I’d seen that movie because it made me think scary thoughts.

  “See that thing in her ear? She could be getting signals from the mother ship.” I tried not to become hysterical. “That’s what they called it in the movie. The mother ship.”

  Finally, the person, who had done a very nice cleaning job for a creature from outer space, wheeled the cart out the door. She turned off the lights (without opening the blinds, the way Aldo always did) and left Room 26.

  The room was quiet, except for the TICK-TICK-TICK of the clock, which seemed to be louder than usual.

  Suddenly, the lights came back on. The person walked back in without the cleaning cart. She came over to my cage and reached in her pocket.

  “A ray gun, Og! The space aliens in the movie had ray guns so they could capture the Earthlings!” I squeaked.

  She pulled out a small carrot and shoved it between the bars of my cage. Then she left again, turning out the lights so we were plunged in darkness.

  “Eek!” I squeaked. When my eyes adjusted to the dark, I stared at the little carrot. “I guess that’s not really a ray gun,” I said. “But it could be an alien carrot.”

  “BOING!” Og agreed.

  It was nice of the creature to give me a carrot, but I have to admit, I didn’t touch it. Not all night long. You can’t be too sure about aliens, you know.

  And I still had no idea what had happened to my good friend Aldo.

  The world looked normal again in the light of day, and the morning went along like any morning in Room 26, except for the fact that Garth and A.J. were both very quiet. In fact, they never even looked at each other.

  Then came time for recess.

  While Mrs. Brisbane wrote word problems on the board, I spun on my wheel, knowing my friends were out exercising on the playground.