Imagination According to Humphrey (7 page)

“All he does is cry,” Sophie said. “Sometimes I cry, too.”

“I'm SORRY-SORRY-SORRY,” I said.

I'm always sorry when my friends cry.

“All babies do is cry, eat and make messy diapers,” she said. “That's it!”

Got it! There was a baby in that rolled-up blanket and the baby was called Timothy.

“I guess he can't help it, Sophie,” I said.

I wished she could understand my squeaks.

I hopped on my wheel and started spinning. That made Sophie giggle.

“You're so funny, Humphrey,” she said.

I was GLAD-GLAD-GLAD to hear her laugh.

“Did you hear Mrs. Brisbane say my work was excellent
?
” she asked.

“I did!” I squeaked. “I liked it, too. Even though it was about parrots.”

Sophie reached in the cage and gently picked me up. She held me in one hand and stroked me with the other. “You're so soft, Humphrey,” she said. “You're the most handsome hamster I've ever seen.”

“Thanks!” I squeaked.

Next, Sophie gave me a tour of her room. She showed me her desk, her books, her closet full of clothes and toys, her dresser, her beanbag chair and her panda bear, Pickles. Luckily, Pickles was a toy instead of a
real
panda.

Then she put me inside my hamster ball.

It wasn't so easy to roll around her room, because she had carpeting on the floor.

She sat down on the carpet and watched me.

“Mom said that soon Timothy will sleep more and cry less and she'll have more time for me,” she said. “But that's taking a long time. Dad said that when I was Timothy's age, I cried a lot, too, but I don't remember that. I don't remember being a baby at all.”

I kept listening and rolling as Sophie continued to talk.

I rolled into a corner but managed to back out.

Sophie kept talking.

I rolled under the bed. Even though it was dark under there, I was able to see a sock with blue polka dots.

I rolled out from under the bed.

Sophie was still talking.

And then, something wonderful happened: Sophie's mother came into her room and the baby wasn't with her.

“Hi, Mom!” Sophie said. “Look, Humphrey's in his hamster ball!”

“Oh, that's so cute,” Mrs. Kaminski said.

“He's the smartest hamster in the world,” Sophie said. “He does all these tricks. Sometimes he hangs from the top of his cage by one hand—I mean paw. And he climbs that ladder and spins on his wheel!”

I rolled close to Mrs. Kaminski's foot.

She bent down to look at me. “Hi, Humphrey,” she said.

I spun the ball in a circle.

Mrs. Kaminski yawned. “Sorry, Humphrey. Timothy kept us awake all night.”

“That was rude,” I squeaked.

“Tomorrow, I'll show you and Dad how to clean his cage,” Sophie said. “I'm really good at it.”

“Great,” Mrs. Kaminski said, yawning again. “Your Dad's plane is about to land, but he has to work on a report tonight. He's working on a big deal.”

“Everything is a big deal,” Sophie muttered.

“What did you say
?
” her mom asked.

“Nothing.”

Just then, Timothy started wailing again. “Waaah! Waaah! Waaah!”

Even inside my hamster ball, he sounded LOUD-LOUD-LOUD.

“Oh,” Sophie's mom said. “I was hoping he'd sleep for a while.”

“Me too,” Sophie said softly.

Her mother hurried out of the room and Sophie picked up my hamster ball. “Timothy is my brother and I love him,” she said. “But I don't always
like
him.”

“Maybe you'll like him when he's older,” I squeaked.

“I wish Dad didn't have to work so much,” she said. “I wish Timothy didn't cry so much. I wish Mom wasn't tired all the time.”

Sophie took me out of my hamster ball and held me in her hand.

I wiggled my whiskers and twitched my tail, which made her laugh.

“I wish you were my hamster,” she said, which was sooooo sweet of her.

Sophie's mom returned. “I got him back to sleep. How about a snack
?
”

“Yes!” Sophie quickly put me back in my cage and followed her mother out of the room.

I crossed my paws and wished that Timothy would have a LONG-LONG-LONG nap.

My wish did not come true.

After a few minutes, I heard it again. “WAAAH!”

He cried for a while and then Sophie came back in her room, carrying a handful of apple slices. “Mom and I were having a nice talk,” she said. “Then
he
started crying again.”

She sat on the bed and broke off a small piece of apple. “Here, Humphrey.” She opened the door to my cage. “I'm not very hungry. You like apples, don't you
?
”

“Yes!” I squeaked. I happily took the piece of apple. I wasn't very hungry, either, but at least I had my cheek pouch to store it in.

“Let's play,” Sophie said after a while. She went back to her closet and searched through her toys.

“Oh, I forgot about this!” She reached way back in her closet and pulled out something large. “My dollhouse. I haven't played with it for a long time.”

She pushed the dollhouse to the middle of the room and carried me over to it.

“See, Humphrey
?
It's a little house,” she said.

It wasn't like any house I'd ever seen—one side was completely open. There was no wall, so you could see the rooms inside. There was furniture in every room like in a real house, but the pieces were tiny.

“It's just your size,” Sophie said.

She set me down in the living room and I began to look around.

I looked at the fireplace and the painting of a vase of flowers. There was also a chair, a blue rug, two lamps and a tiny television.

But what grabbed my attention was the red sofa. It looked so cozy, I had to try it out.

Sophie laughed out loud and raced to the door.

“Mom, come look at Humphrey in the dollhouse!” she shouted.

“I'm feeding Timothy,” her mother called back. “I'll be there soon.”

Sophie ran back to the dollhouse.

I left the sofa and went through a little door to the kitchen with a refrigerator, stove, sink, table and chairs.

While Sophie giggled, I sniffed all around, but I'm sorry to say I didn't see any food in that kitchen!

I went into the dining room—no food there, either. So I scrambled up the staircase in the hallway.

The upstairs bedroom had a soft bed that was exactly my size! Of course, I had to try it.

“Mom! Now Humphrey's in bed!” Sophie yelled through the doorway. “Hurry!”

“In a minute,” Mrs. Kaminski called back.

I looked out the window and was about to climb through when Sophie grabbed me.

“No, no, Humphrey,” she said. “You'll hurt yourself if you jump out the window. Here, try the bathroom.”

When I visit my human friends' houses, I almost never go in the bathrooms. Hamsters don't like to get wet.

This one had a tiny sink, a toilet and a little rug. There was also a hamster-sized bathtub. It was nice and dry, so I crawled inside.

Sophie giggled. “Humphrey, you're so funny. Oh! I have an idea.”

She disappeared, so I left the bathroom and climbed up another staircase to the attic. There wasn't much there. Some boxes and a trunk.

I checked the little window up there, but it was too small for me to climb through.

By then, Sophie was back. “Humphrey! Dinner is served in the kitchen.”

I scurried down the stairs, back to the kitchen. There was food on the table.

“Have some fried chicken and mashed potatoes,” she said. “With corn on the cob.”

I don't know much about those human foods, so I carefully approached the table and sniffed.

There was no fried chicken, mashed potatoes or corn there. But there were raisins! I LOVE-LOVE-LOVE raisins.

I quickly gobbled them up. Yum!

“And for dessert, apple pie,” Sophie said, placing another raisin on the table.

I took the raisin and placed it in my cheek pouch for later.

Now I understood. Sophie was using her imagination and pretending the raisins were other food.

“Do you think I'm a good cook
?
” Sophie asked, laughing.

“The best!” I told her.

I was just about to head upstairs again because there was one room I hadn't visited. But Sophie reached in and picked me up (gently, I'm happy to say) and took me back to my cage.

“I'll be back soon, Humphrey,” she said.

I looked around my cage. It's my house, but it doesn't look anything like a human house. I store my food in my cheek pouch instead of a refrigerator. I never eat fried chicken and mashed potatoes. I use my poo corner instead of a toilet.

It's an unsqueakably nice cage, really.

But somehow, I couldn't stop looking at that little dollhouse.

And I couldn't stop thinking about the room I'd missed.

MY WRITER'S RAMBLINGS
My cage is such a cozy place—
I really do approve.
But since I saw the little house,
I think I want to move!

House Hunting

I
ate the piece of apple that was stored in my cheek while I stared at the house in the middle of the room.

After a while, Sophie returned with her father.

“See, Dad,” she said, running to my cage. “It's Humphrey! Isn't he cute
?
”

Mr. Kaminski followed her and bent down to look in my cage. “Where is he
?
” he asked.

I poked my head out of my sleeping hut.

Mr. Kaminski chuckled. “Oh, there he is. Hi, Humphrey.”

“HI-HI-HI to you!” I said.

Sophie showed him my water bottle, my wheel, my ladder and my sleeping hut.

I hopped on my wheel to show her father how fast I could spin.

I could tell he was enjoying himself until his phone rang and he had to answer it.

After he'd left the room, Sophie was VERY-VERY-VERY quiet.

“Business,” she muttered.

I'm not sure exactly what business it was, but it didn't sound like a good thing.

A few minutes later, Mr. Kaminski appeared in the doorway. He was still talking on the phone, but he motioned for Sophie to come with him and then moved his hand to his mouth as if he were eating.

“Dinnertime, Humphrey!” she said.

Sophie nicely checked to see that there was food in my dish and then hurried out of the room.

She wasn't gone for long.

“So . . . Timothy got sick and Mom says he has a temperature and Dad went out to get him medicine,” Sophie said. “I watched TV, but you know what
?
I missed you, Humphrey, because you are my best friend.”

“That's great!” I squeaked.

“
You
always listen to me,” she continued. “
You're
never too busy.
You
don't have to go to work or write reports or take care of babies.”

It was all true, except the part about writing. I write my reports, even though no one in Room 26 sees them.

“So maybe you'd like to hear my paragraph,” she said.

“Of course,” I said.

“If I could be a pretty parrot, I'd fly across the ocean to the magical Island of the Parrots,” she read. “I could tell my parrot pals about my day at school and my friends in Room Twenty-six—and they'd listen! Then they would tell me what it's like to live high in the treetops and be able to fly—and about their parrot classes. And I would listen. That would make me happy because sometimes, people don't listen to me.”

She stopped reading and turned to me. “What do you think, Humphrey
?
”

“I think you have a wonderful imagination,” I squeaked.

She giggled at my squeaks.

But now I knew how much it bothered Sophie that her parents were too busy to listen.

She talked a lot that evening and I listened.

Later, when she went to bed, her mom—carrying the blanket with Timothy inside—tucked her in with a kiss.

Of course, Timothy went, “Waaah! Waaah!” and Mrs. Kaminski hurried out of the room.

The next morning, things hadn't changed much.

Sophie's father was writing his report. Her mother was taking care of Timothy, who seemed to cry more than he slept.

Sophie sat next to my cage and talked. And talked. And talked.

I was glad to listen, but I have to admit, my small hamster ears were getting tired!

Luckily, Carter George came over to visit.

“Look—there's his wheel that he loves to spin on and he has a sleeping hut, a water bottle, a food dish and a ladder to climb. Plus he can roll around in his hamster ball,” Sophie explained.

Carter nodded.

“I'm sorry your class doesn't have a classroom pet,” she continued without stopping to take a breath. “You could have a hamster or a guinea pig or a bunny or even a frog like Og. He's so funny. Would you like a classroom pet
?
”

Carter nodded.

“Which pet would you like
?
”

Carter shrugged.

“Did I ever tell you about my dream where I went to the Island of the Parrots and we could talk to each other
?
I'm writing about it now,” she said. “Do you like parrots
?
”

Carter nodded.

Sophie was finally silent for a moment. Then she asked, “Don't you have anything to say
?
”

“Not really,” Carter said. “I'm not much of a talker.”

So Sophie took me out of my cage and over to the dollhouse.

Carter laughed when I went in the bathtub and then scurried to the bed.

That little bed was so soft and cozy!

Then Sophie put me back in my cage while she and Carter left to play a game.

I have to admit, I was ready for a nap, so I darted into my sleeping hut.

It was cozy, but I kept looking at the dollhouse and that REALLY-REALLY-REALLY soft bed.

I stared at it until I went to sleep.

I must have dozed a long time, because when I woke up, Sophie was going to bed.

“Good night, Humphrey,” she said with a yawn.

I'm happy to say that Sophie does
not
talk in her sleep!

The next morning, Sophie's mother came into the room
without
Timothy.

“I'm sorry this hasn't been a great weekend for you,” she said. “Timothy's been so fussy. I think he has a cold. It's very hard for babies when they have a cold.”

“I have colds sometimes,” Sophie said.

“Yes, but babies can't tell you what's wrong, so that's a worry,” her mom said. “And I can't make chicken soup for him the way I do for you.”

I was HAPPY-HAPPY-HAPPY when Mrs. Kaminski gave Sophie a hug.

“Are you having fun with Humphrey
?
” she asked.

Sophie nodded. “Yes! I'd like to get a pet of my own.”

Mrs. Kaminski nodded. “I know. But I think it would be better to wait until Timothy's a little older.”

I could tell how disappointed Sophie was, although I'm not sure how much I'd enjoy a visit to her house if she got a large dog or cat!

“Do you have homework
?
” Mrs. Kaminski asked.

Sophie started to tell her about the island with the parrots but she didn't get to finish.

“Waaah! Waaah!” Timothy cried.

Mrs. Kaminski jumped up.

“I've got to see what's wrong,” she said. “Your dad has to finish his report by tomorrow.”

“But it's the weekend,” Sophie complained.

“Dad's boss doesn't believe in weekends,” Mrs. Kaminski said. “Come with me.”

Sophie did leave with her mom, but I think she would have liked to sit and talk some more—without Timothy.

When I see my classmates having a problem, I always try to help them. So I hopped on my wheel and started spinning, thinking about what I could do.

I wanted to tell the Kaminskis that Sophie needed someone to listen to her. I knew she loved the baby, but she felt left out.

My problem was that I couldn't tell them, because even though I understand humans, they don't understand me.

If I said, “Please help Sophie by spending time listening to her,” all they would hear would be “SQUEAK-SQUEAK-SQUEAK.”

How could I get their attention
?

Then, I thought of a Plan.

It was a risky Plan, because I don't want any humans to discover my lock-that-doesn't-lock. If they did, they'd probably fix it, and where would I be
?
Stuck in my cage forever!

Still, Sophie needed my help. And I did want to go back and explore that little house some more.

On Sunday afternoon, Sophie worked on her report. But that didn't keep her from talking.

She wrote for a while and then said, “Humphrey, do you think there are pink and purple parrots
?
I've never seen one, but parrots come in all colors. Oh, I wish I could really talk to them!”

Then she wrote some more. “Humphrey, which do you like better
?
I first wrote ‘pretty parrot,' and then I wrote ‘gorgeous parrot,' but now I might change it to ‘stunning parrot' or even ‘splendid parrot.' What do you think
?
”

“I'm not sure,” I squeaked back. “I like them all.”

I hoped she didn't think I actually
liked
parrots. But I liked what she wrote about them.

I was surprised when her father came in.

“How's the homework coming
?
” he asked.

“I'm finishing,” Sophie said. “How does ‘splendid parrot' sound
?
”

Her father smiled and said, “It sounds splendid to me. I'm sorry my report is taking so long. Your mom has had a tough time with Timothy being sick. I can't help her as much as I'd like, so why don't we order a pizza
?
”

The smile on Sophie's face was splendid!

“See you later, Humphrey,” she called as she left.

I was HAPPY-HAPPY-HAPPY about what had just happened. I realized that I hadn't seen everyone in the family all together in one room so far.