The World According to Humphrey Read online

  Now Heidi had her hand raised as well as Sayeh.

  “Well, what is it?” Mrs. Brisbane turned to face the class and was obviously surprised at what she saw.

  “Yes, Sayeh,” she said.

  In a loud, clear voice, Sayeh said, “May I move the pumpkin away from Humphrey’s cage?”

  Mrs. Brisbane looked from Sayeh to the cage and back.

  “Yes. I guess it is a little close. Thank you, Sayeh.”

  Sayeh rose and hurried to my table to push the ugly old jack-o’-lantern away. She didn’t say a word, but she winked at me and I knew what she meant.

  “Heidi, did you want to say something?” Mrs. Brisbane asked.

  “Not anymore,” she said.

  Everything went back to normal until the bell rang for recess. As my classmates all scattered and ran toward the door, Garth paused by my cage.

  “Scaredy-cat,” he muttered. Then he moved the pumpkin right up against my cage again.

  I puffed up my cheeks as big as I could get them. It was going to be a very long day.

  TIP SEVEN: When hamsters feel intimidated, they often puff up their cheeks.

  Guide to the Care and Feeding of Hamsters, Dr. Harvey H. Hammer

  8

  Tricks and Treats

  Hallow-Een. Or Hollowin’. Or Howloween. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I was pretty sure I didn’t like it.

  Especially on Monday night, after Mrs. Brisbane turned out the lights. That’s when those skeletons on the wall took on an eerie glow.

  The bats hanging from the ceiling began to whirl and twirl.

  And the smile on that ghastly orange pumpkin face looked more like a wicked smirk.

  WEIRD-WEIRD-WEIRD.

  So I was thrilled when Aldo flicked on the lights.

  “Whoa. It looks like Halloween in here,” he exclaimed as he wheeled in his cleaning cart. He strolled over to my cage as usual and bent down so we were face-to-face.

  “So, are you going to wear a costume for Halloween? It’s Wednesday, you know. Halloween is when the ghosts and goblins come out to play,” he explained.

  “Eeeek!” I squeaked.

  “No, no, it’s not scary. It’s just fun. All the kids will wear costumes. Richie’s going to be a werewolf. So what are you going to wear? A fur coat?” He laughed at his own joke, then began his cleaning routine, talking to me as he swept and dusted.

  I started thinking about this costume thing. Ms. Mac had a costume party once while I was staying with her. People dressed up like kings and pirates and ghosts, and Ms. Mac dressed up like a clown with a sparkly pink wig and a funny face.

  Nobody wore a fur coat.

  I thought about this costume thing all night and the next day.

  When Garth threw a piece of wadded-up paper in my cage, I wondered about the costumes.

  When A.J. tripped on his way up to the chalkboard and Gail didn’t giggle, I wondered about the costumes.

  Even when Mrs. Brisbane called on Sayeh and she answered her, I wondered about the costumes.

  And I came up with a Plan of my own.

  On Wednesday, Halloween arrived. But there were no costumes. I was extremely disappointed until Heidi blurted out, “Mrs. Brisbane, when are we going to have the party?”

  “Raise-Your-Hand-Heidi,” the teacher told her.

  Heidi obediently raised her hand and Mrs. Brisbane called on her. This time, when Heidi asked her question, Mrs. Brisbane said, “We will have our lessons this morning. After lunch, you may put on your costumes and we’ll start the party.”

  I felt HAPPY-HAPPY-HAPPY and got in a nice nap for the rest of the morning.

  But I was wide-awake after lunch. My classmates returned from the cafeteria, then scurried off to the cloakroom and the bathrooms and returned. But I hardly recognized them in their costumes.

  Oh, they were wonderful! A dragon, two pirates, a princess, a ninja. Two clowns, a ballerina, a bunny, a cat (thank goodness not a real one), a baseball player, a mad scientist, a skeleton, the Statue of Liberty, an angel and a devil!

  The room mothers came to help with the party. They were both dressed as witches. Still, Mrs. Brisbane was the scariest of them all.

  She didn’t wear a costume—just a button that had the words “This IS my costume” printed on it.

  She gathered everyone in a circle, pushing all the tables back. Then she announced that the class would be having some treats. But in order to get them, they each had to do a trick: tell a joke, sing a song or perform a trick for the rest of the class.

  Oh, I wish someone had told me. I had figured out the costume part, but what about this tricking for treats?

  Art (the ninja) stood on his head. He stood on his head so long, Mrs. Brisbane finally had to thank him and tell him it was someone else’s turn.

  Gail (the ballerina) twirled around the room on her toes. Garth (baseball player) told a joke about a witch. Miranda (bunny) sang a funny song about your ears hanging low. It was all very entertaining, except for the fact that I was thinking about Something Else.

  But Mrs. Brisbane got my full attention when she called on Sayeh. Sayeh was dressed as the Statue of Liberty. She wore a flowing dress and had a crown on her head and a big cardboard torch in one hand. She stared down at the floor as she took her place in the center of the circle.

  “What trick will you do for us, Sayeh?” the teacher asked.

  Sayeh still stared at the floor.

  “Sing your song, Sayeh! Sing!” I squeaked out as loudly as I could. “You can do it, Sayeh. Sing!”

  Yes, I know all she could hear was “Squeak-squeak-squeak,” but I did my best.

  “I think Humphrey wants to hear from you,” said Mrs. Brisbane in a surprisingly friendly voice.

  Suddenly, without warning, Sayeh began to sing “The Star-Spangled Banner” in her clear, sweet voice.

  Everyone stood up right away, like you’re supposed to when they sing the national anthem. Mrs. Brisbane put her hand over her heart and the other kids did, too. Well, Pay-Attention-Art didn’t until his mom came over and whispered in his ear.

  I stood up, too, as proud as a hamster could possibly be.

  When it was over, no one clapped or said a word. It seemed as if those sweet notes were still drifting around the room.

  “That was lovely, Sayeh. Thank you for sharing your beautiful voice with us,” Mrs. Brisbane said.

  I wish she’d speak that way to me someday. Nice. Encouraging. Friendly.

  Anyway, the tricks continued. And after A.J. told a few riddles, Mrs. Brisbane looked around the circle and said, “Did I miss anyone?”

  This was the moment I’d been waiting for. No one had noticed, but the night before, I had sneaked one of Aldo’s white dusting cloths into my sleeping hut. I had to act quickly. I pulled out the cloth and crawled under so it completely covered me. Then I stood up and began to shout like I’d never shouted before.

  “Trick or squeak!” I cried. “Trick or squeak!”

  Miranda noticed first. “Look!” she yelled. “It’s Humphrey!”

  I wish I could have seen the faces of my classmates, but it was DARK-DARK-DARK under the cloth. I could hear them, though. First there were gasps, then giggles, then shouts of “Look!” and “Humphrey’s a ghost!”

  I continued to squeak my heart out until I heard Mrs. Brisbane’s firm footsteps coming toward my cage.

  “Who did this?” she asked. “Who put that on Humphrey?”

  No one answered, of course. Not even me.

  “He could suffocate under that,” she said.

  “But he looks so cute,” Heidi called out.

  Mrs. Brisbane didn’t answer. She just said, “Will someone please uncover him?”

  Golden-Miranda opened the cage door and whisked the cloth away.

  “Humphrey, you are a riot,” she said.

  Only a riot? Let’s be honest here: I was a smash hit!

  Then the room mothers served up cupcakes with orange icing and cups of apple juice, and
my classmates played games.

  Just before the bell rang, Mrs. Brisbane clapped her hands and made an announcement. “Mrs. Hopper and Mrs. Patel and I have consulted with one another. We have decided to give the prize for Best Trick to Sayeh Nasiri.”

  Everyone clapped and cheered as Mrs. Brisbane handed Sayeh a blue ribbon. Sayeh looked over at me and smiled a beautiful smile.

  Mrs. Brisbane continued. “And we have decided to award the prize for Best Costume to . . . Humphrey.”

  She walked over to my cage and taped a big blue ribbon to it while my classmates cheered for me.

  “Thank you,” I squeaked, but I’m not sure anyone could hear me over all the noise. “Thank you all.”

  The bell rang and the room was soon empty, except for Mrs. Brisbane. As she gathered up her papers to take home, Mr. Morales came in. He was dressed in a cap and gown like people wear when they are graduating.

  “Happy Halloween, Sue. Did you have a good party?” he asked.

  “Very,” she answered. “Somehow your friend over there got hold of a ghost costume and won the prize.”

  “See? I told you he’d add a lot to your classroom,” he said with a smile.

  “He has livened things up,” said Mrs. Brisbane.

  JOY-JOY-JOY! I believed she was starting to like me.

  “Just so he doesn’t liven things up too much,” she added.

  Poof. My hopes of winning over Mrs. Brisbane’s heart crashed to the ground.

  Mr. Morales said his kids kept asking about me and then he quickly left. Mrs. Brisbane headed out the door after him.

  There I was, all alone in Room 26 with a bunch of half-torn bats and tattered skeletons hanging around me.

  As I waited for Aldo to arrive, I sat in the darkening room and pondered my job as a classroom pet. Had I really accomplished anything? Mr. Morales’s children seemed to settle down when I was there. Sayeh’s mother began to learn English. And Sayeh would probably never have sung in front of the class without my encouragement.

  Still, Mrs. Brisbane was not won over.

  Neither was Garth Tugwell, although it seemed as if he had liked me well enough in the beginning. Now he always muttered things at me as he passed by my cage.

  I noticed that he was the only one in class who didn’t cheer when I won the award for Best Costume.

  I was still worrying about Garth when the lights temporarily blinded me as Aldo sailed into the classroom, yelling, “Trick or treat!”IT

  He was wearing his usual work shirt, dark pants and heavy shoes. But on his face he wore huge glasses with a bulbous nose attached. The center of the glasses had giant eyeballs painted on with circles of red veins. His floppy mustache drooped out from under the nose.

  “Great costume,” I squeaked.

  “Hey, what’s this?” Aldo rushed forward to examine my blue ribbon. “Best Costume? For a fur coat? I’ll have to ask Richie about that,” he said.

  Aldo reached into his lunch box and pulled out a juicy slice of apple.

  “I’ve got a special Halloween treat for you, Humphrey. ’Cause I’m very, very happy tonight,” he said.

  I grabbed the apple and began nibbling as Aldo pulled his chair up close to my cage.

  “You see, I went to the Moonlighters Club. You remember, the club in that ad I found on the projector?”

  I squeaked an excited “Yes.”

  “And I met a real nice girl there, named Maria. She works all night at the bakery. So tomorrow, we’re going out on a date. Lunch and a movie.” Aldo leaned back in his chair.

  “She’s a real nice girl. Pretty. Nice. Did I tell you she works in a bakery?”

  Aldo rose and paced back and forth in front of my cage.

  “You know what I can’t figure? I can’t figure out how that ad got on that projector. Mrs. Brisbane wouldn’t show that to the class. And she wouldn’t be interested herself. And it was weird how the projector was left on. Mrs. Brisbane always leaves her room in shipshape condition.” He paused to rub his chin, then looked at me out of the corner of his eye.

  “You know, if you weren’t locked up in a cage, I’d think you had something to do with it,” he said. Then he laughed. “Well, whoever it was, I owe them a big thank-you.”

  “You’re welcome,” I squeaked.

  Too bad Aldo didn’t understand me this time.

  TIP EIGHT: Hamsters are most active during the evening.

  Guide to the Care and Feeding of Hamsters, Dr. Harvey H. Hammer

  9

  The Art of Self-Defense

  Okay, I was having a great week, no doubt about it. Not only did I get the blue ribbon on Wednesday, but on Thursday the class got a long letter from Ms. Mac. She included a picture of her standing by a waterfall next to some very strange-looking creatures. They looked like hairy pigs or racoony dogs.

  “These are coatis,” Mrs. Brisbane said, reading from the letter. “Pronounced ko-ahh-tees.”

  The coatis looked weird. Ms. Mac looked gorgeous, especially with all the red, yellow and orange flowers surrounding her.

  How I wished I could be there with her! Except maybe for the fact that those coatis might not be hamster-friendly.

  At the end of her letter, Ms. Mac wrote, “So farewell to all my wonderful friends in Room 26, especially the small one with the big heart: Humphrey.”

  SIGH-SIGH-SIGH.

  Though the thought of Ms. Mac made me happy, the weekend was coming up soon and I always felt a little nervous about where I’d be spending it.

  When it was decided on Thursday that I was going home with Golden-Miranda—I mean Miranda Golden—I was so excited, I only got an 83% on my vocabulary test. (Sayeh got 100%. I know, because this time when Mrs. Brisbane asked who got 100%, she raised her hand.)

  I always figured that Miranda lived in a castle, because she reminded me of a fairy-tale princess in disguise. Wherever it was, it had to be wonderful if Miranda lived there.

  Well, Miranda’s home wasn’t exactly a castle, but it was very tall. Miranda lived in a fourth-floor apartment with her mom and her big dog, Clem. We had to take an elevator to get there.

  The apartment was nice. The mom was nice. Clem was not nice.

  Let me explain. Miranda has a small bedroom and her mom let me stay there, right on the desk. To welcome me, the two of them did a complete cleanout of my cage. “I’ll bet nobody’s done this for a while,” said Miranda’s mom, and she was right. Pretty soon, I felt like a brand-new hamster!

  Suddenly, Clem bounded into the room, a big mass of yellow fur poking his huge nose right up against my cage. His wet nostrils were like two eyes staring in at me and he stuck out a giant tongue that came at me like a tidal wave. Luckily, the cage protected me.

  “Mom!” Miranda yelled. “Please get Clem out of here!”

  Thank heavens Mom took Clem out for a walk in the park while Miranda showed me her room. She held pictures of her friends and family up to the cage so I could see. Her dad. Her stepmom. Her grandparents in Florida.

  Next, she introduced me to her goldfish, Fanny. She wasn’t much of a conversationalist. I squeaked, “Nice to meet you, Fanny,” and she said, “Blub.”

  I was thinking about how wonderful it would be to live with Miranda all the time when Clem returned from the park and galloped into the room.

  “Clem, stay out!” Miranda shouted. But Clem just wagged his tail and barked.

  Miranda closed the door so the dog had to stay outside, but we could still hear him whining and crying like a baby out in the hall.

  Still, just being with Miranda made everything seem golden until her mom called her to go shopping. Miranda protested. Good girl! But Mom didn’t want her to stay inside on such a nice day. She had no choice, unless she was rude to her mom, which Miranda never would be!

  “I won’t be gone long,” Miranda told me. “And I’ll make sure the door is shut tightly so Clem can’t get in.”

  Everything would be all right, I assured myself. After all, Miranda had said so. I w
as all set to get in a good daytime snooze.

  But as soon as the door to the apartment closed, Clem started whining outside the room. I could hear his big paws up on the door, trying to push it open. I was a little nervous, but Miranda had assured me I’d be all right. After all, she wouldn’t be gone long.

  Then I heard it, the slight turning of the doorknob as Clem flung himself at the door repeatedly. What a barbarian he was.

  Suddenly, the door swung open and Clem burst in and ran straight to my cage.

  I tried to distract him by spinning on my wheel. I can do that for hours, if necessary. I thought the spinning wheel might even hypnotize him, like in an old movie I’d seen with Ms. Mac. (Ms. Mac! Where was she when I needed her?)

  But apparently all that spinning just excited Clem more. He started barking at me, but I couldn’t understand a word he said.

  “Now cut that out!” I squeaked at him. That just seemed to make him more hot and bothered.

  He plopped his front paws up on the desk and stuck his nose against the cage door, near the lock.

  The lock-that-doesn’t-lock.

  “Easy now. Calm down.” I squeaked soothingly at the beast, but he kept poking his nose at the cage, showing me his huge tongue and the huge teeth around it.

  (Let me just say that Clem could stand some breath mints.)

  He poked the lock again and again. I knew if he jiggled it enough, the door would swing open and I’d be history. Poor Miranda would never know what had happened to me. She might even cry. I couldn’t stand the thought of Miranda crying. I hopped back on my wheel and started spinning with all my might, hoping to buy some time.

  Clem pulled back for a moment and stared at the wheel going round and round.

  (Let me just say I’m glad that Clem is about two quarts low in the brain department.)

  Whew, I’m a good spinner, but I was getting worried about how long I could keep it up when Golden-Miranda rushed in. She never looked more beautiful to me than at that moment.

  “Clem! Stop it!” she shouted in a very firm voice. “Bad boy!”

  Clem raced to her side, wagging his tail.

  Miranda’s mom dragged old Clem out of the room and closed the door behind her.