Winter According to Humphrey (9781101591222)

by Birney, Betty G.

  “BOING!” Og replied.

  “Not like a frog at all,” I said. Then I quickly added, “Not that there’s anything wrong with the way a frog sings.”

  Og dived into the water and splashed around.

  A little later, Aldo came into the room to clean. He greeted us as usual, then went about his work, dusting and sweeping Room 26.

  And, since Aldo is generally a happy human, he even sang a little song about a reindeer with a red nose. That would be something to see!

  But he didn’t talk until it was time for his dinner break.

  Then he pulled a chair close to the table by the window where Og and I live and took out his paper bag.

  “Well, fellows, the holidays are almost here,” he said.

  “YES-YES-YES!” I squeaked.

  Aldo took a tiny carrot out of his bag and pushed it through the bars of my cage. “Season’s greetings,” he said.

  I didn’t say anything, because I was busy chewing my crunchy treat.

  “I always love Christmas,” Aldo said. “But this year is a special one.” Aldo looked at us and smiled a big smile that made his furry mustache look like a half-moon on its side.

  “You see, boys, I got some exciting news from Maria,” he said. “She’s going to have a baby in the coming year. That means we’re going to be a real family! I’m going to be a dad!”

  Aldo’s smile just grew and grew!

  “That’s wonderful!” I shouted, wishing with all my heart that he could understand me. “Isn’t it, Og?”

  My neighbor was strangely silent.

  “Og, didn’t you hear that? Aldo and Maria are having a baby!” I repeated.

  I guess Og heard me that time because he suddenly leaped up and said, “BOING-BOING-BOING-BOING-BOING!”

  That made Aldo’s smile even bigger and he let out a loud laugh. “Thank you, fellows,” he said. “Your congratulations are appreciated.”

  Then Aldo took out a huge sandwich and began to eat.

  I stopped eating and hid some of the carrot in my cheek pouch.

  I wasn’t in the mood to eat right then. I was too busy thinking about Aldo and Maria and their baby.

  “Yep, next year this time, we’ll be celebrating with our own baby,” Aldo said. “Isn’t that amazing?”

  I absolutely, pawsitively thought that it was!

  I only wished that Joey could celebrate with his dad this year.

  HUMPHREY’S WINTER WONDERINGS: I wonder if Aldo’s baby will have a mustache like his. If so, I hope it’s not a girl!

  9

  More Sour Notes

  Over the next few days, the most amazing things began to happen.

  First of all, large white sheets of cardboard turned into great big snowflakes that the girls could fasten onto their bodies by putting their arms through elastic loops. Smaller snowflakes went onto their wrists like bracelets.

  Second, long pieces of colorful yarn were woven together into handsome tails for the boys. They also wore caps with paper ears on them.

  By Thursday, the girls learned to swirl around like snowflakes as they sang:

  Snowflakes floating through the air

  Make a lovely sight.

  No two snowflakes are alike,

  Almost . . . but not quite.

  They looked wonderful, especially Rolling-Rosie, who could spin her wheelchair in perfect circles.

  Meanwhile, the boys learned to prance while they sang:

  Dashing through the snow,

  In a one-horse open sleigh . . .

  But there were problems, too. One day, things got WILD-WILD-WILD and Tall-Paul pranced right into Be-Careful-Kelsey, and Forgetful-Phoebe almost knocked Small-Paul over when she swirled out of control.

  Just-Joey pranced over to my cage.

  “Look, Humphrey—I’m a horse,” he said. Then he made a weird noise that sounded a lot like a horse.

  “Wheeehngeeeeh!” he said. Or something like that. I think it’s called a whinny.

  I’ve never actually seen a horse in real life, but I once saw an amazing movie at Mrs. Brisbane’s house that had lots of people riding around on the backs of enormous horses. At least they looked enormous to me.

  “Do it again, Joey!” I squeaked.

  Guess what? He did! “Wheeehngeeeeh!”

  Hurry-Up-Harry and Slow-Down-Simon heard him and rushed right over.

  “That was amazing!” Harry said.

  “How did you do that?” Simon wanted to know.

  Joey did it again.

  Harry and Simon tried to whinny, too, but they didn’t sound like horses at all.

  “Settle down, class. Back to your seats,” Ms. Lark said. “Now, girls, you will be decorating your snowflakes with paint first and then glitter. Boys, you need to finish up your ears and tails. I’ll bring in jingle bells for you to practice with as well.”

  All of my friends seemed so excited and pleased. I was, too!

  “Daniel, why don’t we try the song one time with you playing the ‘Jingle Bells’ music,” Ms. Lark said.

  “Now?” Daniel asked.

  “Yes, now,” Ms. Lark replied.

  Daniel shuffled his way to the front of the room where Ms. Lark had her keyboard.

  “I’m not used to playing on that,” he said.

  “I know,” Ms. Lark said. “But it’s just like a piano. And we’ll have a real piano for the show.”

  She placed the music near the keyboard and Daniel took his place.

  “I’ll count to four,” Ms. Lark said. “On the count of four, you start playing. And remember to follow my direction.”

  Daniel nodded.

  “One, two, three,” Ms. Lark counted. “Four!”

  I was relieved when Daniel started to play and the boys started to sing, following Ms. Lark’s hands as she waved them.

  Before long, I realized that something was WRONG-WRONG-WRONG!

  The boys sang, “Dashing through the snow, in a one-horse open sleigh . . .”

  But by the time they were singing “sleigh,” Daniel was still playing the note for “snow.”

  Not only that, it was the wrong note. It sounded so terrible, my ears twitched and my whiskers wiggled.

  “Eeek!” I squeaked. No one could hear me, of course, because there was so much noise.

  Ms. Lark kept waving her arms.

  “O’er the fields we go,” the boys sang.

  But Daniel played, “In a one-horse open sleigh.”

  He hit a couple more clunkers, too. I never knew how bad music sounded if someone hit the wrong notes.

  And there was another sound: The girls were giggling.

  I couldn’t blame them.

  Daniel wasn’t laughing, though. He turned red and there was a look of panic on his face.

  “Stop!” Ms. Lark said.

  Daniel froze and everyone stopped singing.

  “Sorry, Daniel, but you need to keep up with the boys,” Ms. Lark said. “It sounded as if you were performing two different songs.”

  “They were going too fast,” Daniel complained.

  “I know it’s difficult to play while people sing if you’re not used to it,” the teacher said. “Have you practiced at home?”

  Daniel rubbed his nose. “Sort of,” he mumbled.

  “I hope you will spend some time practicing this weekend,” Ms. Lark said. “We’ll try again on Monday.”

  Daniel shuffled his way back to his chair.

  He looked so miserable, the girls stopped giggling.

  Ms. Lark left and Mrs. Brisbane took over the class, but Daniel didn’t look any happier.

  And when they left class for recess, I heard Simon say to Harry, “I hear piano p
layers run in his family.”

  “Run far away, I hope!” Harry replied with a laugh.

  Which was kind of funny, except that it was true.

  Later in the day, Mrs. Brisbane let my friends work on their costumes. The girls seemed especially excited to make their snowflakes glitter. But before they got started, suddenly Mrs. Wright walked into Room 26.

  Mrs. Wright is the PE teacher who always wears a shiny (and loud) whistle around her neck.

  She also likes to make sure that everyone at Longfellow School follows the rules.

  “Mrs. Brisbane, I want to alert you that there is to be no glitter at the Winter Wonderland program,” she said.

  Some of the girls gasped.

  “Oh, no!” Sophie said out loud.

  I held my breath as Mrs. Wright put her hand on the whistle. I crossed my paws and hoped she wouldn’t blow it, because hamsters have very sensitive ears!

  “Oh, but we need it to make our snowflakes sparkle,” my teacher said. “We were just about to start.”

  Mrs. Wright shook her head. “I’m sorry, but at our planning meeting, we decided there would be no glitter. It’s too much extra work for Aldo. And I don’t want to find glitter in my gymnasium for the rest of the year!”

  “You do have a point,” Mrs. Brisbane said. “I certainly don’t want to make Aldo’s job harder.”

  Aldo works hard. I know—I watch him every night of the week as he sweeps, dusts and mops our room. I didn’t want him to have extra work, either.

  But I hated to see the girls looking so unhappy.

  “Thank you for your cooperation,” Mrs. Wright said. “I’m sure we can have a perfectly nice glitter-free program.”

  After Mrs. Wright left, the girls all started talking.

  “It’s not fair!” Be-Careful-Kelsey complained.

  “We need glitter to make our snowflakes shiny,” Rolling-Rosie said.

  “I’ll sweep up the gym,” Helpful-Holly said. “I’ll make sure there’s not one single piece of glitter left behind.”

  Mrs. Brisbane smiled. “Mrs. Wright has a point. There are other ways to make your snowflakes shiny. I’ll think of something. Now . . . back to learning.”

  The girls didn’t seem convinced, but soon, Mrs. Brisbane was talking about something coming up called the winter solstice, which is the shortest day of the year! Since I’m usually wide awake at night, I thought an extra-long night would be FUN-FUN-FUN!

  On Friday, the girls were a lot happier as they glued shiny shapes made of tinfoil on their snowflakes. And they were as sparkly as could be.

  That afternoon, Do-It-Now-Daniel said, “Humphrey, it’s my turn to take you home for the weekend!”

  People like Fridays. I guess it’s because they have a whole weekend ahead of them. I love Fridays, too, because I get to go home with a classmate and learn something new about humans.

  What I don’t like about Fridays is having to leave Og behind. He stays alone in Room 26 because he doesn’t have to be fed. And transporting his tank is more difficult than carrying my cage.

  While Daniel waited for his grandfather to pick him up, I told Og I’d see him soon. “Have a good weekend!” I said.

  “BOING-BOING,” he answered. It sounded as if he was going to miss me.

  Mrs. Brisbane stood looking out the window at the gray sky.

  “You know what?” she said.

  I wasn’t sure who she was talking to, but I squeaked anyway. “What?”

  “I’m taking you home for the weekend, Og,” she continued. “It feels like snow and I don’t want you to get stuck here in case school is closed on Monday.”

  I guess she remembered the time Og and I got snowed in. It was SCARY-SCARY-SCARY to be alone at school with no one to feed us or give us water.

  I was HAPPY-HAPPY-HAPPY for Og. Now I could enjoy the weekend knowing he’d have fun, too.

  After the rest of the class had gone home, Daniel’s grandfather arrived.

  “Grandpa, meet Humphrey,” Daniel said as the old man came in.

  Mrs. Brisbane introduced herself to Mr. Popwell, which was Grandpa’s real name.

  Grandpa Popwell wore a heavy plaid jacket and a funny hat with flaps that came down over his ears.

  Maybe those flaps kept him from hearing too well, because he said, “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Bizzbane.”

  Mrs. Bizzbane—I mean Mrs. Brisbane—helped Grandpa Popwell cover my cage with a blanket and carry it out.

  “Bye, Og! Have a great weekend,” I squeaked to my friend. I already knew he would, since he was going home with Mrs. Brisbane.

  “BOING-BOING!” he answered happily.

  “It looks as if we’ll have the house to ourselves for a few days,” the old man said as we drove away from school. “Your mom has a conference.”

  “I know,” Daniel said. “And Dad’s out of town.”

  “Just you and me,” Grandpa said. “The boys.”

  “Just you and me and Humphrey,” Daniel reminded him. “He’s a boy, too. But not Lulu. She’s a girl.”

  I heard Grandpa chuckle.

  I wasn’t sure who Lulu was. Maybe Daniel had a sister.

  Once we were at Daniel’s house, the blanket came off my cage. Right away, I knew who Lulu was, because she started barking.

  That’s right—Lulu was a dog and she was barking at me!

  She was a small dog with curly black fur. But even if she was small for a dog, she was still a lot bigger than I am, and when she barked, I could see some very white, very sharp teeth.

  “Settle down, Lulu,” Grandpa Popwell told her.

  She didn’t settle down.

  “Lulu, be nice!” Daniel said.

  But Lulu wasn’t nice.

  “I’ll put her in the den,” Daniel said, and he carried her out of sight, thank goodness.

  My heart was still pounding, but once Lulu was gone, I looked around and saw that I was sitting on a table in the living room.

  And right across the room was a piano! I certainly hoped that Daniel was planning on practicing all weekend.

  Grandpa and Daniel went into the kitchen for a snack, so I scratched around my bedding and found a small piece of broccoli I’d stored there. I like to save bits of food in case some human forgets to feed me—but that hasn’t happened yet.

  When they came back to the living room, Grandpa said, “Do you have homework to do, Daniel?”

  Daniel made a face. “It’s Friday! I’ve been working all week. I’ll do it later this weekend. Can we watch TV?”

  “Your mother said she didn’t want us watching TV all weekend,” he said. “Oh, and she said you need to practice piano for the show at school.”

  “I’ll practice,” Daniel said.

  I was glad to hear that, because from the way he played at rehearsal, he needed lots of practice.

  “Later,” Daniel said.

  He said “later” a lot.

  “Is it okay if I read for a while?” Daniel asked.

  “Sure,” his grandfather answered. “And I’ll finish that crossword puzzle I started this morning.”

  I crossed my paws and hoped that when Daniel practiced “later” it wouldn’t be too late!

  HUMPHREY’S WINTER WONDERINGS: If you say “later” every time you need to do something, do you ever actually get that thing done?

  10

  Practice Makes Perfect

  When we got to his room, Daniel set my cage on the dresser, pulled a book out of his backpack, then flopped down on his bed to read.

  He was quiet for a long time. There wasn’t much else to do, so I hopped on my wheel for a spin. That always gets my whiskers wiggling and my tail waggling.

  I was concentrating so hard on wiggling and waggling that I al
most fell off my wheel when Daniel suddenly said, “Yes!” I thought he was trying to encourage me, so I spun a little faster.

  Daniel said, “Way to go!”

  “Thanks,” I squeaked, though I have to admit I was out of breath.

  “Whoa!” he said.

  That surprised me so much I stopped spinning completely.

  When I looked out, I saw that Daniel wasn’t even looking at me. He was still reading his book.

  “Humphrey, this book is the best,” he said.

  Then he finally looked over at me.

  “You should read it,” he continued.

  “I’d like to!” I squeaked.

  I meant it, too. I would LOVE-LOVE-LOVE to read more. Does anybody write hamster-sized books?

  Daniel sat up and leaned closer to my cage. “See, this boy has a magic backpack and anything he needs comes out of it whenever he needs help. So, there’s this part where another boy is bullying him and he reaches into his backpack and pulls out a cream pie! So he throws the pie in the bad guy’s face. And when the bully tells the teacher, the pie and the mess magically disappear. I sure wish I had a backpack like that!”

  I guess anybody would like that.

  “And it can take you places. You put it on and think of a place you want to go and—whoosh—you’re there,” he said.

  That got my brain spinning. I imagined being in my cage and putting on a magic backpack and—whoosh—I’d be on top of Mount Everest (although it would be a little cold there for a hamster). Or I’d be surfing on the Pacific Ocean (although it would be a little wet there for a hamster). I could be on the streets of a big, bustling city (although it would be a little dangerous there for a hamster).

  Maybe a magic backpack wasn’t such a great idea after all, at least for a small creature like me. But that cream pie sounded YUMMY-YUMMY-YUMMY!

  I glanced over at Daniel and could see that his mind was miles away.

  “Boy, if I had that magic backpack, when it was time to practice piano, I could put it on and fly to an amusement park,” he said.

  “Don’t you like playing piano?” I asked, wishing that he could understand.

  “I like the piano,” Daniel said. “But every time I practice, I make so many mistakes, it sounds awful. That’s why I don’t like to practice.”