School Days According to Humphrey Page 5

  “She had to separate Gail and Heidi, too,” Aldo told us.

  I could understand that because they were best friends. Gail was a great giggler and Heidi always giggled when she was around her. None of the strange students giggled like Gail. Not even her brother, Simon.

  “Anyway, Richie will get used to her,” Aldo said. “Just like you got used to Mrs. Brisbane.”

  It had taken me quite a while to get used to Mrs. Brisbane, and she was just one human being.

  How long would it take me to get used to a whole room full of strangers?

  Aldo rose and started pushing his cart toward the door.

  “I think Richie’s real problem is that they don’t have a classroom pet in Room Eighteen.” Aldo turned off the light. “See you tomorrow night!”

  I was a little disappointed when he walked right past Aki’s red hamster ball on Mrs. Brisbane’s desk and didn’t turn it on.

  When the door was closed and my eyes got used to the darkness, I had an idea.

  “Did he say Room Eighteen, Og?” I asked my neighbor.

  “BOING!” Og replied.

  “That must be where the rest of our old friends are now. I’d sure like to see that room.” I was already pushing on the lock-that-doesn’t-lock. “I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.”

  Soon I was out in the hallway. I knew that Room 18 wasn’t to the left of Room 26, so I turned right and scurried down the hall. It had those dim lights to guide me, but a school with no children in it is unsqueakably quiet.

  It was hard to see the numbers on the doors from way down low, but if I looked straight up, I could read them. Just like the night before, all the even numbers were on one side of the hallway and all the odd numbers were on the other. So I read them: 24, 23, 22, 21, 20. I ran out of hallway before I got to room 18, so I took a sharp left turn and the hallway continued. There was Room 19 and across from it: Room 18.

  I was a little nervous about sliding under an unfamiliar door after I’d gotten stuck, but this time the gap between the door and floor was nice and wide. Whew!

  Room 18 didn’t look all that different from Room 26. There were tables and chairs, chalkboards and a teacher’s desk. There was even a long table by the window, like the one where my cage and Og’s tank sits. But instead of mammals and amphibians on the table, there was a neat row of boxes, each labeled with a name. I skittered across the floor to get a better look and saw the names of some of my good old friends from last year. Gail and Heidi, A.J. and Richie, Kirk and Tabitha—along with names I’d never seen before.

  I stared at those boxes for a long time, remembering all the good times I’d had last year.

  Then, suddenly, lights began to flash. My insides did a flip-flop. Was someone in the building? Was it Aldo—or had someone broken in? Why were they flashing the lights?

  BOOM! There was a loud crash. Someone was breaking in for sure!

  There was a tremendous clatter—and my insides settled down a bit as I realized that it was raining outside. The flashing lights and crashing sounds were lightning and thunder! I hurried back out into the hallway and back to Room 26. Of course, I wasn’t afraid, but I was worried that Og might be.

  “Don’t worry, Og. It’s just a thunderstorm. It won’t hurt you,” I assured my friend when I was safely back in my cage.

  I told him about the boxes in Room 18 and the names on them. Maybe it made Og sad to think of his old friends so far away. He didn’t make a sound, so for the rest of the night, I sat in my cage and listened to the rain.

  It was still raining the next morning (but the lightning and thunder had stopped, thank goodness). The students arrived in Room 26 with an assortment of umbrellas, raincoats and hats, which were put in the cloakroom. I was glad to have a nice dry cage to stay in, especially since hamsters shouldn’t ever get wet.

  Just-Joey rushed out of the cloakroom and hurried over to my cage.

  “Hi, Humphrey,” he said. “It’s me, Joey.”

  “I know you’re Joey,” I squeaked.

  He laughed. “You answered me!”

  “Of course,” I said. “I’m a very polite hamster.”

  I wished he could understand what I said.

  “Humphrey, I had a hamster once. His name was Giggles, because he made little sounds that kind of sounded like giggles,” he said.

  “What happened to him?” I asked.

  “I don’t have him anymore.” Joey suddenly looked sad. “He D-I-E-D.”

  I guess he thought I couldn’t spell, but I knew what D-I-E-D meant.

  “I wanted another hamster, but my parents got me a dog instead,” he explained. “Skipper. I like Skipper—okay—I love him. But I still think about good old Giggles.”

  “Of course you do. He was your friend,” I said. “I’m unsqueakably sorry.”

  “Now you’re giggling, too!” Joey’s face lit up. “I like that!”

  Well, I hadn’t meant to giggle, but I was happy if I made Joey feel better.

  When Joey ran off to join his friends, I told myself that whenever he was near my cage, I was going to giggle.

  I climbed up my tree branch, all the way to the tippy top of my cage.

  More students came in, looking damp and drippy.

  “Boy, that thunder last night was so loud, it shook the house and all our pictures fell down,” Thomas announced when he arrived. “Even my teeth shook.”

  “Thomas T. True, is that really true?” Mrs. Brisbane asked.

  Thomas shrugged. “That’s what it felt like, anyway.”

  When Mrs. Brisbane took attendance, Harry was missing again. She shook her head when she read his name, but he finally showed up in the middle of reading.

  “Did you get an excuse from the office?” Mrs. Brisbane asked. Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper.

  “Dad drove me and we got caught in traffic,” he said.

  I thought that made sense on a very wet day, and Mrs. Brisbane didn’t say anything. Harry went into the cloakroom to hang up his jacket. The other students kept on reading, but Harry didn’t come out of the cloakroom, so Mrs. Brisbane went back to check on him.

  The cloakroom isn’t really a room, but it’s partially walled off from the rest of the room and I can’t see inside from my spot by the window.

  “Harry? What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Just taking off my jacket,” I heard him answer.

  “Well, hurry up, Harry,” she said in a not-very-happy voice.

  Harry came out with a grin on his face. “Mrs. Brisbane, did you know that eight of the jackets back there are blue? Way more than any other color!”

  Mrs. Brisbane just said, “Take your seat, Harry. We’re in the middle of class.”

  The rain was still beating against the windows when the bell rang for recess, so my friends had to stay inside.

  Mrs. Brisbane opened the closet and pulled out a huge plastic tub.

  “Here’s my rainy day box,” she said. “The things in here can only be used on days like this.”

  She started taking out smaller boxes and lining them up on the desk. “We’ve got board games and puzzles, art supplies and activity books. It’s strictly first come, first serve—no arguments. Now, first, let’s get the wiggles out a little.”

  Then the most amazing thing happened. Mrs. Brisbane stretched her arms way up over her head and wiggled her fingers.

  “Stretch . . . and wiggle!” she said.

  Most of the students stood up. Rosie managed to stretch and wiggle right in her wheelchair.

  I put my paws up on the side of my cage and stretched, too. I wiggled my whiskers at the same time. None of the other students could do that!

  Next, Mrs. Brisbane started rolling her head around.

  “Wiggle your heads.”

  The students did. They all looked pretty silly, but I tried it, too.

  “Wiggle your shoulders,” she continued. “Wiggle your arms.”

  I wasn’t sure about my shoulders
and arms, so I just wiggled everything.

  “Wiggle your hips,” she said. “Wiggle your knees.”

  I’d never seen Mrs. Brisbane act so unsqueakably silly before. The students were wiggling like crazy and they were giggling, too.

  “Wiggle your toes and wiggle your nose.” Mrs. Brisbane even giggled at that one.

  I’m very good at wiggling my nose. I’ve had a lot of practice.

  “And now shake.” Mrs. Brisbane shook her whole body. “Shake your problems away.”

  The kids shook their bodies and laughed out loud.

  “Okay, settle down,” Mrs. Brisbane said. “Now that the wiggles are over, you may come up and pick out a rainy day activity.”

  The students all headed toward the desk, including Rosie.

  “That’s okay, Rosie,” Holly said, stopping her. “I’ll pick something out.”

  “Thanks, but I’d like to choose my own,” Rosie said, rolling right past Holly.

  Simon was the first one at the desk, and he grabbed a board game. “Who wants to play this with me?” he asked.

  Small-Paul and Tall-Paul both came forward and said, “Me!”

  “Hey, Paul comes in two sizes: giant and miniature,” Simon joked.

  The two Pauls didn’t think it was funny. Neither did I. They both backed away.

  “Never mind,” Small-Paul said, and he headed back to his table and took out a book.

  “Og, did you see that?” I squeaked.

  Og splashed around in his tank.

  Thomas decided to play the game with Tall-Paul and Simon. Rosie joined them, and Holly raced up and said she’d like to play, too.

  Simon checked out the box. “Sorry, only four can play. First come, first serve.”

  Holly looked disappointed until Kelsey asked her to work on a puzzle with her.

  Phoebe grabbed art supplies and was busy gluing things to bright pieces of paper, and Joey joined her.

  By the time Hurry-Up-Harry got up to the desk, there wasn’t much left in the box.

  “Are you feeling all right, Harry?” Mrs. Brisbane asked him.

  “I’m fine,” he said.

  “You know,” she continued, “if you could be on time at school for a whole week, maybe you could be the first student to take Humphrey home for the weekend. Would you like that?”

  Harry nodded. “Would I! Yes!”

  “It’s up to you to listen for the bell and return with the other students. I want you back in the room right after recess.” She reached deep in the box and pulled out a smaller box. “Now why don’t you see if Paul F. would like to play this game with you?”

  “Okay,” said Harry.

  Soon all the students were busy with their activities and seemed to be having fun, which was a good thing.

  But there were problems, too. I wondered if Harry could hurry up for a whole week. I could see there was a problem between Holly and Rosie, and between the two Pauls as well.

  I hopped on my wheel for a spin because that’s where I do my best thinking.

  If there’s one thing that gets a classroom hamster thinking, it’s a problem happening right in his own classroom.

  HUMPHREY’S RULES OF SCHOOL: It’s easy to get your wiggles out, but it’s harder to shake your problems away.

  7

  A Visitor and a Visit

  The next day was bright and sunny, which I normally like. Last night, I had wished for another rainy recess so I could study the new students a little more. But the sunshine helped me think of another verse to write in my notebook:Autumn, oh, autumn,

  When the weather turns funny.

  One day it’s cold and rainy,

  Next day it’s warm and sunny.

  I don’t believe Mrs. Brisbane thought it was funny when Hurry-Up-Harry arrived a few minutes after the bell rang. This time he brought his mom with him. She looked very worried as Mrs. Brisbane greeted her.

  “Mrs. Brisbane, I’m so sorry. After your call last night, I promised myself I’d get Harry here on time, but then I had to stop for gas,” she explained. “Tomorrow, I’ll get him here on time.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Ito,” Mrs. Brisbane answered politely.

  Then she turned to Harry. “Why don’t you go to your seat and take out your language arts workbook?” she said.

  “Og, did you hear that?” I squeaked to my neighbor when Mrs. Ito had left and the students were all working. “Mrs. Brisbane called Harry’s mom last night to talk to her about his being late.”

  “BOING-BOING!” Og loudly replied, which made some of the kids laugh.

  “That’s serious,” I said. “I hope he wasn’t too upset.”

  But when I looked over at Harry, he didn’t seem upset at all.

  The bell rang for recess later in the morning, and the students rushed out of the room. I knew they’d be getting their wiggles out on the playground, so I decided to try some of those exercises Mrs. Brisbane had taught us the day before.

  I wiggled my ears and my whiskers and I even jiggled my tail (something else humans could not do). Then I SHOOK-SHOOK-SHOOK my whole body, trying to shake my problems away.

  “Rockin’ Humphrey!” I squeaked.

  I guess I looked a little silly, but I felt good.

  I felt even better when I heard a familiar voice say, “Humphrey! What are you doing?”

  I looked up and saw a wonderful sight. Golden-Miranda and Speak-Up-Sayeh, two of my best friends from last year, were standing by my cage and smiling down on me.

  “I think he’s dancing,” Sayeh said in her beautiful, soft voice.

  “We miss you so much, Humphrey,” Miranda said.

  “I’m SORRY-SORRY-SORRY you have George in your classroom,” I squeaked. If only she could understand me!

  “We miss you too, Og,” Sayeh added. “George doesn’t like you, but we do.”

  “It’s not the same without you two.” Miranda leaned in very close and whispered, “I love you, Humphrey.”

  I was a little worried that Og might feel left out, but Miranda leaned in close to his tank and said, “You too, Og.”

  My heart did a little somersault inside me. Golden-Miranda still loved me. And I loved her back.

  “Girls, Mrs. Wright will be looking for you,” Mrs. Brisbane said. “She always knows when someone’s missing from the playground.”

  They laughed and promised to come see me again.

  The rest of the day, I tried very hard to concentrate on what the teacher said. But no matter what she said, I kept hearing Miranda’s voice saying, “I love you, Humphrey.”

  Later, Mrs. Brisbane made an announcement. “Class, I’ll be taking Humphrey home this weekend. Starting next Friday, he’ll start going home with a different student each weekend.”

  I was a little bit relieved not to be going home with any of the new students, since I still didn’t know them very well. However, I’m a very curious hamster, so I couldn’t help wondering what weekends at their houses would be like.

  Mrs. Brisbane lived in a yellow house with her husband, Bert. After an accident last year, Bert was now in a wheelchair. He spent a lot of his time in his workshop making birdhouses. (He made a big extension for my cage, too—thanks!) He also worked part-time at Maycrest Manor, a place where people get better after an accident or an illness. Sometimes he took me there to help.

  It’s pretty quiet at the Brisbanes’ house, especially compared to some houses, which are filled with kids and pets. Sometimes it’s a little too quiet and I miss Og.

  I dozed a lot that weekend. I napped while Mrs. Brisbane tidied up the house. I slept while she went over students’ papers. I snoozed while the Brisbanes went out Sunday morning.

  I was certainly rested up when Mrs. Brisbane opened my cage on Sunday afternoon and said, “Humphrey, you must be bored to tears! I haven’t paid a bit of attention to you this weekend, but that’s changing now.”

  She scooped me up and put me into my yellow plastic hamster ball.

  “How about a change of sc
enery?” she asked.

  It sounded unsqueakably nice to me.

  She carried me out to the garage, where Mr. Brisbane was hammering away at a piece of wood.

  “I thought you might like some company,” Mrs. Brisbane told her husband.

  “Always do,” he said.

  Mrs. Brisbane sat in an old stuffed chair near the workbench and put my hamster ball on the ground. My hamster ball didn’t have flashing lights or music, but I still liked it.

  “Go take a spin, Humphrey,” she said. “You need the exercise.”

  I started the ball rolling. Things look different from inside the ball and they sound different, too.

  When the Brisbanes talked, they sounded as if they were underwater. But I could still hear what they were saying.

  “Bert, may I ask you a personal question?” she said.

  He chuckled. “We’ve been married thirty years, Sue. I think you can ask anything you want.”

  “Okay. What’s the worst thing about being in a wheelchair?” she asked.

  Bert thought for a few seconds. “I can’t reach that box of candy you hid on the top shelf in the kitchen.”

  Mrs. Brisbane laughed. “I put it up there so I can’t reach it, either.”

  Then Bert got more serious. “People are the worst part of being in a wheelchair.”

  “Why?” Mrs. Brisbane asked.

  “Well, I don’t like it when people treat me as if I’m different. I’m no different just because I’m sitting in a chair. I’m the same person I always was,” he explained.

  His wife nodded. “That’s true.”

  “And I don’t like it when people try to help me when I don’t need help,” Bert continued.

  “But you can’t blame people for wanting to help,” Mrs. Brisbane said.

  “I appreciate help when I need it, and I know I have to ask for help sometimes. But some people just won’t leave me alone. Like Violet Rasmussen next door. If I’m outside for one minute, she runs over to see if she can help. She really gets my goat.”

  Mrs. Brisbane laughed quietly. “You haven’t changed a bit since you’ve been in that chair, Bert Brisbane! You’re as stubborn as ever.”