Spring According to Humphrey Page 5

  ‘I couldn’t agree more,’ I squeaked.

  Aldo was smiling as he left.

  I was happy for him but sorry that he’d taken the piece of paper with him. I had no idea what Mrs Brisbane had written!

  Much later, after Aldo’s car left the car park, I took out my notebook and tried to think about circus activities for Family Fun Night.

  I thought and thought, but I didn’t write anything down. I was still thinking about the envelope Mrs Brisbane had left for Aldo.

  ‘Og?’ I asked my neighbour. ‘Do you know anything about circuses?’

  Actually, I was surprised when he replied with a loud ‘BOING!’

  It was the first sound I’d heard coming from him in days. At least he hadn’t lost his voice.

  ‘I think there are funny people dressed as clowns,’ I said. ‘And maybe tightrope walkers. But what else?’

  Og dived off a rock into the water side of his tank and began to splash.

  ‘Animals,’ I said. ‘I think animals perform. Like horses and dogs and maybe even tigers and leopards …’

  I stopped cold and glanced at the aquarium. Joey had told me the specks would turn into leopard frogs.

  ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Og, do you remember? The specks – I mean tadpoles – will be leopard frogs?’

  Og splashed like crazy. I raced to the far side of my cage to avoid the water. Hamsters don’t like to be wet!

  ‘But you’ll still be the only green frog in Room Twenty-six,’ I squeaked.

  The splashing didn’t stop.

  Mrs Brisbane had told us that Og was a green frog called Rana clamitans. It was a fancy name for a plain old frog, I thought.

  ‘Of course, I think green frogs are the nicest,’ I said. ‘Just wanted to let you know.’

  Og stopped splashing and floated in the water. At least he’d calmed down.

  ‘I’m sure our friends will come up with GREAT-GREAT-GREAT ideas for Family Fun Night,’ I said. ‘They are unsqueakably clever.’

  ‘BOING!’ he agreed. It was the first time he’d agreed with me in a while.

  Since Og seemed calmer, I opened my lock-that-doesn’t-lock and scurried over to his tank.

  ‘Og, do you remember being a tadpole?’ I asked. It was a very personal question, but I needed to know.

  Og didn’t answer. Not a BOING, not a splash. He didn’t even look at me. He acted very strangely – even for him.

  ‘Tell me what you’re thinking,’ I said. ‘I’m worried about you.’

  I think he nodded his head a little bit.

  ‘Look,’ I squeaked. ‘It doesn’t bother me that you were once a tadpole. It doesn’t bother me at all.’

  I crossed my toes because what I said wasn’t exactly true.

  ‘Like Joey said, it’s kind of wonderful,’ I added, even though I still wasn’t sure about that. I crossed my toes harder.

  ‘BOING,’ Og replied.

  He didn’t make another sound the whole night.

  In the morning, all my friends entered Room 26 and ran straight to the aquarium to see if the tadpoles had grown.

  Slow-Down-Simon groaned when he got there. ‘They haven’t changed a bit!’

  ‘It’s going to take a while,’ Joey reminded him.

  Simon groaned again.

  Only one student didn’t look at the tadpoles: Calm-Down-Cassie. She went right to her chair and stared down at the top of her table.

  Once class began, Mrs Brisbane said, ‘I know you all studied last night, so why don’t we take the maths test now and get it out of the way?’

  There were groans. There always were when our teacher said the word ‘test’.

  ‘Now?’ Do-It-Now-Daniel asked.

  Mrs Brisbane smiled nicely and said, ‘Yes.’

  Soon, my friends were bent over their papers, scribbling away. All except for Cassie.

  She stared at the paper with her arms wrapped around her middle.

  Cassie stared and stared, but she didn’t even pick up her pencil.

  Mrs Brisbane noticed, and she walked to Cassie’s desk. ‘Is something wrong?’ she asked.

  Cassie didn’t look up. She mumbled something about her stomach hurting.

  Mrs Brisbane leaned down and whispered something I couldn’t hear. Cassie shook her head. I thought she might even cry.

  Our teacher told Cassie to go to the nurse’s office, where she could lie down.

  As soon as she left, Stop-Talking-Sophie asked, ‘Where’s she going?’

  Mrs Brisbane explained that Cassie didn’t feel well.

  ‘She never feels well when we take a test,’ Daniel grumbled. Then he grabbed his stomach and said, ‘Ohhhh, my stomach.’

  ‘That’s enough, Daniel,’ Mrs Brisbane said. ‘I’ll speak to you later. Now, no more talking during the test.’

  I hopped on my wheel and started to spin.

  While my friends finished the test, I thought about what Daniel had said. It wasn’t a kind thing to say. But to squeak the truth, Cassie had asked to go to the nurse’s office the last two times the class took tests.

  I don’t get to take maths tests unless Mrs Brisbane writes the questions on the board. Then I copy them into my notebook and work out the answers once school is over. I’ve taken spelling tests and vocabulary quizzes, but they’ve never made me sick.

  So why did tests make Cassie’s tummy hurt?

  When the test was over and the bell rang for playtime, all of my classmates raced out of Room 26 except for Daniel. Mrs Brisbane asked him to stay.

  ‘That was a very rude thing to say about Cassie,’ Mrs Brisbane told him.

  ‘But it’s true,’ Daniel said. ‘She just says her stomach hurts to get out of taking tests.’

  ‘You don’t know that,’ Mrs Brisbane said. ‘Some people get very anxious about taking tests and that might make her stomach hurt. But, Daniel, it’s none of your business. Cassie and I will discuss it in private.’

  ‘Okay,’ Daniel said. ‘I won’t say anything again.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Mrs Brisbane replied. ‘I expect you to keep your word.’

  She excused him and he hurried out the door.

  It wasn’t long before Cassie returned to Room 26.

  ‘Feeling better?’ Mrs Brisbane asked.

  Cassie whispered, ‘A little bit.’

  Mrs Brisbane asked her to sit down. ‘I’m going to call your parents and suggest that they take you to the doctor to make sure nothing’s wrong,’ she said. ‘You might be sick, but since your stomach only seems to hurt when you take a test, maybe you worry about them a lot.’

  Cassie admitted that tests made her nervous and made her stomach feel like it was tied in knots.

  ‘If that’s the case, we need to work on ways to make you less worried about tests,’ Mrs Brisbane said. ‘Your marks are fine. You know the material. Why do you worry so much?’

  Cassie hung her head and softly said, ‘It’s just … I don’t want to disappoint my parents.’

  ‘I don’t think you’d disappoint them if you got a few answers wrong now and then,’ Mrs Brisbane said. ‘They’d still love you, don’t you think?’

  Cassie slowly nodded.

  ‘Sometimes we learn more from our mistakes than our successes,’ Mrs Brisbane suggested.

  I’d certainly learned what not to do with the blinds cord when I made a mistake!

  Then Mrs Brisbane taught her a little trick.

  ‘The next time you feel your stomach knotting up, take some long, slow breaths, like this.’ Mrs Brisbane took a very long breath in, held it, and then slowly let the air out.

  ‘Let’s try it together,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, let’s!’ I squeaked.

  Mrs Brisbane and Cassie tried the breathing together … and I did, too.

  ‘Breathe in slowly,’ Mrs Brisbane said. ‘Hold … and slowly breathe out.’

  I was amazed that I felt relaxed and calm after a couple of breaths.

  ‘Does that make you feel a little better?’ Mrs Brisbane asked.

  ‘Yes!’ I squeaked.

  Cassie nodded.

  ‘Why don’t you stay in for afternoon break and take the test?’ Mrs Brisbane suggested. ‘You might feel calmer if the other students aren’t here.’

  Cassie did a lot of deep breathing as she took the test later in the day.

  I breathed along with her, just to help her feel better.

  I felt better, too.

  ‘I hope it wasn’t as bad as you’d expected,’ Mrs Brisbane said when Cassie handed in her test.

  ‘It wasn’t,’ Cassie said.

  And then she smiled. Whew!

  You’d think, by now, my job as a classroom hamster would have taught me what to expect in the classroom. But still, I was often caught off guard by humans and their behaviour.

  Especially that Friday.

  Friday is always the day of the week when I go home with one of my classmates for the weekend. I have FUN-FUN-FUN, and I get to learn even more about my human friends.

  But instead of revealing who would take me home for the weekend, Mrs Brisbane made a surprising announcement.

  ‘Class, I’m going to be taking Humphrey and Og home for the Easter break. Joey is taking the tadpoles to his house for the week,’ she said.

  ‘The week?’ I squeaked. ‘Don’t you mean the weekend?’

  ‘I’m not giving you any homework over Easter,’ she continued. ‘But I want you to bring in more signs of spring. I think you’ll find a lot of them. And when we get back, we’ll make a plan for Family Fun Night and start a great new project.’

  ‘I still like the tightrope idea,’ Tell-the-Truth-Thomas said. ‘I might even try it over the holidays.’

  Some of my friends laughed, but not me.

  They all seemed extra excited for the bell to ring at the end of the day, but I was extra confused.

  Don’t get me wrong. I LOVE-LOVE-LOVE going home with Mrs Brisbane and spending time with her and her husband, Bert. And it’s NICE-NICE-NICE that Og would get to come with me. I thought he needed a break from the specks – I mean tadpoles. But I wondered what my friends would do over the holidays.

  Even more, I wondered what would happen with Joey’s tadpoles. Would they grow legs and arms and heads?

  Up to now, I hadn’t seen much progress.

  It didn’t matter what I wondered, because at the end of the day, Mrs Brisbane brought my cage out to her car. Mr Morales carried out Og’s tank.

  ‘Sue, you are a wonder,’ he said. ‘Caring for all of these animals takes a lot of work, but the children get so much out of having them in the classroom.’

  I guess it does take a lot of work to care for animals. But as a classroom pet, let me say that it takes a lot of work to care for humans, too.

  In the end, all the work pays off, because I help my friends and they help me.

  I like Mrs Brisbane’s house. It’s painted a cheery shade of yellow – almost the colour of a Golden Hamster like me – and has white shutters.

  Inside, she always has fresh flowers on the table – even when it’s not spring.

  ‘Bert, our houseguests are here!’ she announced as she carried my cage through the front door.

  Mr Brisbane rolled his wheelchair to the door and she put my cage in his lap.

  ‘Welcome back, Humphrey,’ he said. ‘You’re just what we need for the Easter break.’

  ‘Thanks!’ I squeaked.

  After he put my cage on the large table in the living room, Mrs Brisbane said, ‘Let’s get Og out of the car.’

  Mr Brisbane rolled his chair outside, and when he came back, he had Og’s tank on his lap. He and Mrs Brisbane set it on the table next to me.

  ‘They’re used to being together all the time,’ she said.

  Mr Brisbane nodded. ‘It’s hard to understand, but somehow, this hamster and this frog are truly friends.’

  Mr Brisbane is a very wise man. But recently, I was having trouble connecting with my friend Og.

  Maybe a week at the Brisbanes’ house would help.

  ‘What are your plans for the week?’ Bert asked his wife.

  ‘Oh, I hope to sleep late every day,’ she said.

  Really? I couldn’t imagine Mrs Brisbane sleeping late.

  ‘I’ll have lunch with my friends and clean out a cupboard or two,’ she continued. ‘But I also have to catch up on work.’

  Mr Brisbane took her hand. ‘Do you have to, Sue?’

  Mrs Brisbane sighed. ‘I really need to figure out what our class is doing for Family Fun Night. The theme this year is the circus, and I don’t have a clue.’

  Mr Brisbane thought for a moment. ‘You could be clowns!’

  ‘We thought of that,’ Mrs Brisbane said. ‘But Morgan has already signed her class up for that.’

  Morgan is Ms Mac’s first name. Morgan McNamara. My first teacher!

  Mr Brisbane patted his wife’s hand. ‘We’ll think of something,’ he said.

  ‘I HOPE-HOPE-HOPE so,’ I squeaked.

  The Brisbanes both chuckled.

  ‘If I could only understand him,’ Mrs Brisbane said. ‘I think I would learn a lot.’

  I have to admit, I think she was right!

  While the Brisbanes ate dinner, I talked to Og. ‘Do you know what?’ I asked. ‘I just thought of something.’

  He replied with a single ‘BOING.’

  ‘You know how a circus has all kinds of animal acts?’ As soon as I squeaked ‘animal acts,’ my whiskers began to wiggle. ‘They’re mostly large and fearsome creatures like lions and tigers. Even dogs. Some of them jump through hoops.’

  ‘BOING-BOING,’ Og twanged. He had a lot more to say now than he did when the specks were swimming nearby.

  ‘And people do tricks on horseback,’ I added.

  ‘BOING?’ Og replied.

  ‘Humans love them,’ I said. ‘And I know a couple of other animals that humans love to watch.’

  After dinner, the Brisbanes came back to the living room.

  ‘Anything on TV?’ Bert asked.

  ‘Not really,’ Mrs Brisbane replied. ‘Let’s talk about the circus.’

  Mr Brisbane leaned back and stared at the ceiling for a moment. ‘I haven’t been to the circus for years,’ he said. ‘Not since Jason was a boy.’

  Jason was the Brisbanes’ grown-up son, who lived FAR-FAR-FAR away. I’d never thought about Mr Brisbane taking his young son to the circus.

  I’d never thought about the Brisbanes being like the families of my classmates.

  ‘He really loved the strong man, who lifted – oh, I can’t remember – something like two or three times his own weight,’ Bert said.

  ‘Eeek!’ I squeaked.

  ‘And there was the human cannonball,’ Mrs Brisbane said. ‘I saw that once when I was a girl. The man flew out of the cannon and landed in a net.’

  ‘EEK-EEK-EEK!’ I squeaked.

  Mr Brisbane laughed. ‘I don’t think you’ll be shooting your students out of a cannon or having them lift things twice their weight.’

  ‘The parents might get upset,’ Mrs Brisbane said, giggling.

  I’d never heard her giggle in Room 26.

  They were silent for a while, thinking about circus acts.

  ‘Sophie’s dad can juggle,’ she said. ‘Oh, I really don’t have any ideas at all.’

  ‘Animal acts!’ I squeaked.

  No one paid the least attention to me, except Og.

  ‘BOING!’ he shouted.

  Still, the Brisbanes were silent as they thought.

  ‘I’ll show them, Og,’ I told my friend. I scrambled up my tree branch to the tippy top of my cage.

  ‘Goodness,’ Mrs Brisbane said. ‘Humphrey is energetic tonight.’

  I reached up to the top bars of my cage and began swinging my way from one to another.

  ‘Look at him go,’ Mrs Brisbane said. ‘I’d like to see Humphrey on a trapeze.’

  When I got to the far corner of the cage, I held my breath and let go, dropping all the way to the bottom. Thank goodness for the layer of soft bedding there. It was like falling on to a pillow.

  I quickly leaped on to my wheel and began spinning as fast as I could.

  Luckily, the Brisbanes noticed.

  ‘Look at him go!’ Mr Brisbane said. ‘He’s amazing!’

  Up until then, I had not liked the word ‘amazing’ when it was used to describe two swimming specks. But I liked the idea that maybe I was amazing, too.

  Mrs Brisbane sat up and stared at me. ‘Bert, circuses have animal acts!’

  ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘But I don’t think you’ll be bringing horses to Longfellow School.’

  ‘We have our own animals,’ she said. ‘The families could do something that has to do with hamsters and frogs.’

  ‘Spin a wheel like Humphrey?’ Mr Brisbane said.

  His wife nodded. ‘Run a maze.’

  Just then, Og made a spectacular leap into the water side of his tank.

  ‘A water tank?’ Mrs Brisbane asked.

  ‘Leapfrog,’ Mr Brisbane said.

  Suddenly, they both laughed. I laughed, too, at the thought of frogs leaping over each other.

  ‘I think we’re on to something,’ Mrs Brisbane said.

  Bert nodded. ‘Thanks to Humphrey and Og … as always.’

  ‘You’re welcome!’ I squeaked.

  I didn’t sleep much that night. I was too busy thinking about animal acts for the circus.

  I knew that Og and I couldn’t do what the fearsome animals did. But still … we could help our human friends if we just found a way.

  Mrs Brisbane slept late on Saturday and spent the rest of the day cleaning out a cupboard and filling boxes with clothes and books and all kinds of things to give away. She called it ‘spring cleaning’.

  Bert cleaned out his cupboard as well.

  ‘What about the circus?’ I squeaked when they both settled down in the living room for a cup of tea after dinner.

  ‘Humphrey, you’re always telling us what to do,’ Mrs Brisbane said. ‘If we could only understand you.’

  ‘I do have great ideas sometimes,’ I said. ‘I wish you could understand me, too!’