Trouble According to Humphrey (11 page)

Just when I thought I’d have no toes left at all, Mrs. Brisbane stood up.

“Class, I’ve finished grading the math papers and I’m pleased to say that all around, I’ve seen improvement. In fact, most of your grades have gone up.”

She began to pass out the tests. One by one, I could tell what grades my friends had gotten from the expressions on their faces.

Sayeh—100%, of course.

Paul—100%, of course. Paul smiled, then glanced at Art, obviously worried about his friend.

Seth broke into a broad grin and he made a V-for-victory sign with his fingers as he turned to Tabitha. She acted happy, too.

For the most part, friends like A.J., Garth, Richie, Heidi and Gail looked relieved when they got their papers. I was holding my breath as Mrs. Brisbane handed Art his test.

“Good work,” she said. “I knew you could do it.”

How do I describe the look on Art’s face? Glowing? Gleaming? Beaming? As happy as he looked when he viewed his beautiful train layout? All I can say is he was HAPPY-HAPPY-HAPPY and when Paul saw him smile, he beamed, too.

For once, Art had paid attention and his attention had paid off.

The only person who was extremely unhappy was Mandy. She actually put her head down on her table.

“Mandy, we can talk later,” said Mrs. Brisbane.

When afternoon recess arrived, all my friends raced out of the door.

Mandy stayed behind.

Mrs. Brisbane sat down next to her. “I’m sorry, Mandy. Do you know what happened?”

Mandy lifted her head. She looked as miserable as Miranda did the day she got in trouble. “I don’t know. I studied. But …”

She flung her head back down on the table.

Mrs. Brisbane looked sad, too. “Would you like to retake the test? I could give you another chance later in the week.”

Slowly, Mandy raised her head. “If I do better, can I take Humphrey home this weekend?” she asked.

“Yes, if you can get one of your parents to sign the form.”

Mandy let out a huge sigh. “I’ll take the test again. And I’ll get that paper signed.”

“Good. Now, is there something about these problems you don’t understand?”

Mandy slowly shook her head. “I just had trouble concentrating.”

Mrs. Brisbane dismissed her so she could go out to play.

I hopped on my wheel to think things over, but no matter how fast I went, I had trouble concentrating. Just like Mandy.

MATH TEST PROVES TO BE A BIG
CHALLENGE FOR HUMPHREYVILLE

“With a few exceptions, most students did well,”
Mrs. Brisbane reports.

The Humphreyville Herald

T
rouble. Rhymes with Double. Believe me, I was thinking about Double Trouble that night.

Art’s good grade on the math test was cause for celebration.

Art becoming friends with Paul was cause for celebration.

Seth sitting still (or at least not popping up out of his chair every few seconds) was cause for celebration.

But I had not done one thing to help Miranda, whom I had gotten into trouble. And now Mandy clearly was having some kind of problem I didn’t understand.

Lately I’d been spinning more to keep my mind off my friends’ troubles. I was spinning so much, I wasn’t eating all the food I had stored away in various places in my cage. (All hamsters know that it’s a good idea to have some food stashed away in case of emergency.)

“Og, being a classroom pet may not be an important job, but it’s not an easy one either,” I squeaked to my neighbor. “Because we’ve got to try and keep all our friends out of trouble.”

“BOING-BOING!” he twanged back at me.

He’s a very wise frog.

“I’m worried about Miranda,” I breathlessly told my neighbor, without stopping my wheel.

“BOING!” Og did a giant leap.

“And I’m worried about Mandy,” I said.

“BOING-BOING!” Og jumped up and down twice. I knew he was worried about Mandy as well.

“And I can’t think of one single thing to do that would help either one of them, can you?”

From Og: silence. This was not a good sign.

I got out my notebook and decide to make a Plan. To make a Plan, it helps to make a list. So I wrote:

PLAN TO HELP MIRANDA

1.

I stared at that
1
and stared some more. No matter how hard I stared at it, I couldn’t think of anything to write. The only way I could help Miranda would be to prove to Mrs. Brisbane and the whole class that she didn’t leave my door unlocked. And the only way I could prove
that
was to let everyone see that my lock-didn’t-lock. Which meant that someone would put a new lock on my cage and I’d never be able to get out again. I wouldn’t be able to have any more exciting adventures, and more important, it would be a lot harder for me to help my friends.

I closed my notebook and went into my sleeping hut.
I couldn’t sleep because every time I closed my eyes, I saw Miranda’s face in front of me.

I couldn’t stand that for long, so I crawled out of my sleeping hut and went over to the side of the cage closest to Og.

“I tried to make a Plan, but I didn’t get far.”

Og sat there like the lumpy, bumpy frog he is and blinked his eyes.

“That is, the only Plan I can think of would mean I’d be locked in my cage forever.”

Og sat as motionless as the rock he was sitting on.

“Well, you must have some ideas!” I was practically pleading with him now.

He didn’t even look at me. But I’d learned an interesting fact in science class. Frogs can see all around them without moving their heads because they have 360-degree vision. That’s good because they don’t have much in the way of necks.

“I know you can see me, Og. And I know you can hear me, even though you don’t have any ears that I can see. Are you ignoring me?”

It appeared that he was.

“Are you trying to think of a Plan, too?”

Og jumped up and let out a very loud “BOING!”

I was so startled, I jumped backward and hit my head on my wheel.

Our strange conversation—which to humans would look like a Golden Hamster squeaking and a green frog twanging—ended abruptly when the door handle rattled,
the lights came on and Aldo pushed his cart into the room.

“I’m baaaack,” Aldo said. His greeting didn’t sound as warm and cheery as usual. In fact, he parked his cart in front of my cage and let out a loud yawn.

“Sorry, fellows. I’m kind of tired tonight. I’ve been studying and writing papers and working and, aw, you don’t want to hear about my problems, do you?”

“YES-YES-YES!” I squeaked. Because if your friends won’t listen to your problems, who will?

Aldo pulled up a chair and took out his dinner. He yawned again. “I’ve been working and studying more than I’m sleeping, I guess. I’m beat.”

After he chewed his sandwich in silence for a few minutes, he opened his bag. “Whoa, I must be tired. I almost forgot, Humphrey. Here’s a
tomahto
, thanks to Aldo
Amahto
.”

It was a perfect plump cherry tomato, the kind that usually makes my whiskers wiggle with joy. But I’d been thinking so much about my problems, I didn’t feel much like eating.

“Thanks,” I squeaked. Aldo didn’t notice that I was unusually quiet because he was yawning again.

“You know, guys, I think I’ll take a short nap. I’ll work twice as fast if I can just rest my eyes for a few minutes, right?”

To my amazement, Aldo rolled up his jacket, sat in a chair and, using the jacket as a pillow, put his head on the table and closed his eyes.

He was sound asleep in a matter of seconds. He really must have been tired!

It was quiet in Room 26 with only the TICK-TICK-TICK of the clock (which I couldn’t hear in the daytime) counting off each second.

“Do you think he’ll sleep for a long time?” I squeaked to Og. “After all, he has work to do.”

Og dove into the water and went for a swim. Big help he was.

Aldo looked peaceful, dozing there. Still the hands of the clock kept moving round and round. Fifteen minutes, twenty minutes, thirty minutes. At one point, Aldo moved. Good! He was waking up! But instead, he rolled his head to the other side and kept on sleeping.

“Og, how many rooms do you think he has to clean?” I asked. After all, Aldo had a big responsibility, getting all the rooms in Longfellow School clean each night. Classrooms have a way of getting messy, with squashed crayons, crushed chalk and lots of scuff marks on the floor.

Og splashed again as he climbed back onto his rock. When I glanced over, I saw he was staring down at Aldo, too.

“I wouldn’t want him to lose his job.” I knew how terrible Miranda felt when she lost her job.

Og let out a big twangy “BOING!”

Aldo didn’t move a muscle. He was really sound asleep.

I checked the clock. Aldo had been sleeping for one
hour! At this rate, I wasn’t sure he could get his job done, at least not as well as he usually did it.

“We’d better wake him,” I squeaked to Og.

I took my friend’s silence to mean yes.

“On the count of three, okay, Oggy? One … two … three!”

Og and I let loose with a series of BOINGs and SQUEAKs that was quite amazing … even alarming! Aldo remained fast asleep. How else could one small hamster and one small frog wake up our sleeping friend?

Then I remembered something that was BAD-BADBAD. However, in this case, it might turn out to be GOOD-GOOD-GOOD.

Once, when I was riding the bus home with Lower-Your-Voice-A.J., Mean Martin Bean, the bus bully, told him to be quiet. When A.J. kept talking, Martin took some paper, wadded it up in a little ball and put it in his mouth to wet it. Then he threw it and hit A.J. in the neck.

“Yuck!” A.J. had said, rubbing his neck.

That wad of wet paper made an impression and gave me an idea for a Plan.

I gathered together some of my bedding material, which is shredded paper, and tried to mold it into a ball. Being a clean and sanitary hamster, I wasn’t about to put the stuff in my mouth. Instead, I went to my water bottle and tapped it so a few drops trickled down onto the paper until I was able to shape it into a ball.

I worked it between my paws until it was as round and smooth as a baseball. I went to the side of my cage and looked down at Aldo, who was sleeping peacefully.

Then I had a terrible thought. I was a small hamster, after all. How could I be sure I could throw the ball so it would hit Aldo on the neck and wake him up? I’d have to throw it with all my might. Even though I was strong from spinning on my wheel and climbing ladders and tree branches, I was tiny compared to Aldo.

Then I remembered GRAVITY. Mrs. Brisbane had explained gravity to us in science. (She is an excellent teacher.) Gravity is a force that pulls things toward the ground. It’s the reason we don’t float above the ground all the time (which might be fun for a while, but not all the time). I realized I would have the power of gravity on my side. The ball would naturally go down. And if I aimed it correctly and put my full force behind it, I should be able to wake Aldo up.

I stopped to think about what I was doing. It was wrong for Martin to throw that spitball at A.J. Could it be wrong to do the same thing to help Aldo keep his job?

I explained my mission to Og. “I’m ready to fire on Aldo and wake him up. Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“BOING-BOING-BOING-BOING-BOING!”

I think he was agreeing.

Making sure I could clear the bars on my cage, I
concentrated on a small portion of Aldo’s neck and let loose.

The ball slammed downward, directly toward Aldo’s neck. I crossed my paws, hoping this would work.

Bingo! That paper ball hit him square in the neck! His hand went up to rub the spot, and best of all, his eyes opened.

“Hmmm?” he mumbled sleepily.

He sat up and glanced at the clock.
“Mamma mia
, I’ve been asleep for an hour!”

Aldo leaped to his feet and grabbed his broom. “I thought I’d just nap for a few minutes. You guys should have woke me up! If I lose this job, I won’t be able to afford to go to school.”

Sometimes humans don’t give credit where credit is due. But all I cared about was Aldo keeping his job.