Imagination According to Humphrey

by Betty G. Birney

  But my schedule didn’t work out, because Mrs. Brisbane started the day with the announcement that we had a special guest.

  I raced to the front of my cage, but all I saw were my usual Room 26 classmates.

  “Nicole, would you like to introduce our guest?” Mrs. Brisbane asked.

  “Now?” Nicole said.

  Mrs. Brisbane nodded. “I’ll get her.”

  She disappeared into the cloakroom and then came out carrying a large tank.

  “This is Pearl,” Nicole said. “Mrs. Brisbane said I could bring her so you’d see what a real dragon looks like.”

  There was quite a bit of commotion among my friends, as you can imagine!

  “I’ll put Pearl’s cage on the table next to Humphrey,” Mrs. Brisbane said. “Then everybody can come up and take a look at her.”

  “Eeek!” I squeaked. “Can’t you put her somewhere else?”

  Mrs. Brisbane was already walking over to our table. “I’ll put her right between Humphrey and Og so they can both see her,” she said.

  I was curious about Pearl, but I wasn’t sure whether I really wanted to meet a dragon.

  And when I could actually see her, I was certain I didn’t want to meet a dragon. My whiskers wiggled and my tail twitched, but I couldn’t squeak a word.

  Pearl was small for a dragon but huge compared to me.

  Her head was shaped like a triangle with sharp spikes on the sides. She had a long tail with more spikes, large, ugly claws, and she was all kinds of colors, from green to pink.

  She looked right at me and stuck out her tongue, which is REALLY-REALLY-REALLY rude!

  “She’s so pretty!” Kelsey said.

  Maybe Kelsey needed glasses.

  I don’t think Og liked Pearl, either. He started hopping around his tank and twanging, “BOING-BOING-BOING!”

  I climbed up to the tippy top of my cage so I could get a better look.

  “BOING-BOING-BOING-BOING!” Og continued.

  Then, Pearl hissed. Even over all of Og’s noise, I could hear her.

  “Hisssssss!”

  I didn’t think that was a friendly thing to do, since Og and I live in Room 26 and she was just a visitor. But I kept quiet. I didn’t want her to hiss at me.

  Meanwhile, my classmates pointed and pushed and tried to get a better look at Pearl.

  “She looks like a dinosaur,” Sophie said.

  “She looks like a dragon,” Harry said.

  “She’s actually a reptile,” Nicole explained.

  “Wow!” Thomas said. “We have a reptile, a rodent and an amphibian in our class—and we’re all mammals!”

  Mrs. Brisbane laughed. “Very good, Thomas. But now you need to return to your seats and begin class.”

  My friends all moved to their desks.

  Pearl stayed right where she was.

  “Hi, Pearl,” I squeaked, though my voice was shaky. “I’m Humphrey. Welcome to Room Twenty-six.”

  Pearl turned her head a little. “Hissssss!”

  No manners at all! The dragon in the book was much nicer!

  “BOING-BOING-BOING!” Og was so excited, he did a high dive into the water side of his tank.

  I swallowed hard. If Pearl was going to be next to me all day, I REALLY-REALLY-REALLY wanted to make friends with her. At least I didn’t want to be her enemy!

  I tried to be calm as I looked over at her tank. It had rocks, leaves, a water dish—even a thermometer, which was something Og and I don’t have.

  “Nice tank!” I squeaked.

  Pearl turned her head from side to side and then she did it again!

  “Hissssssss!” she said.

  I was pretty sure Pearl didn’t like me.

  How could anybody dislike a friendly classroom pet like me?

  I guess Og was on my side, because he left the water side of his tank and said, “BOING-BOING-SCREEE!”

  “SCREEE” is a sound he makes only when he thinks there’s danger around.

  “Calm down,” I told him. “Maybe she’s scared of us!”

  I guess Og had never thought of that, because he was quiet for a long time.

  “Let’s listen to Mrs. Brisbane,” I said. “She’s our friend.”

  Pearl, Og and I were totally silent for a while.

  There wasn’t a squeak, a BOING, or a hiss, which was good, because Mrs. Brisbane had something important to say.

  “You’ve written a couple of paragraphs about what you’d do if you could fly,” she said. “And you’re doing a good job. Now I want you to turn your ideas into a story. Instead of writing about what you would do if you could fly, I’d like you to take those same ideas and write a story as if you already can fly.”

  My friends looked as puzzled as I was.

  “Instead of saying, ‘If I could fly like a bumblebee, I’d fly to the top of a mountain,’ write it as if you are a bumblebee and describe what the world looks like through your eyes,” she said. “In other words, turn it into fiction.”

  My friends looked unsqueakably puzzled, but Mrs. Brisbane helped them, one by one.

  During recess, Pearl, Og and I stayed on our best behavior. I was beginning to think dragons weren’t so bad, after all.

  But I changed my mind later in the day, when my friends were at lunch.

  I decided to take a chance and get a closer look at Pearl.

  I jiggled my lock-that-doesn’t-lock and the cage door opened. I quietly tiptoed over to Pearl’s tank.

  To squeak the truth, up close, she was even larger and more terrifying than I’d thought. Those spines looked sharp and she had a large tongue, which she stuck out at me . . . again!

  I’m pretty brave for a small creature, so I crossed my toes for luck and tiptoed closer. (But I wished I had a magic shield, like Gil Goodfriend.)

  “Welcome to Room Twenty-six, Pearl,” I said. “We’re so happy to have you . . .”

  Pearl’s neck puffed up and she said, “Hissssss” even louder than before!

  I backed up all the way to my cage.

  “Never mind!” I squeaked as I pulled the door behind me.

  At the end of the day, Mrs. Brisbane read us the last chapter of the dragon book by Cameron Cole.

  It was SAD-SAD-SAD when Gil Goodfriend said good-bye to Goldie and the other dragons. But when Gil got home, everyone in Bumpshire celebrated with a parade and a town picnic.

  I looked over at Pearl and saw her tail twitching.

  At the end of the book, there was a hint that Gil and the dragon would meet again, which made me very happy.

  But if Goldie had been as unfriendly as Pearl, I wouldn’t have liked the book so much!

  I was so happy when Nicole’s mom came and took that tank away.

  “Good-bye, Pearl! Come see us again!” I squeaked.

  But when she was gone, I added, “But not for a LONG-LONG-LONG time!”

  I was tired that night, but after Aldo left, I opened my cage door again and hurried over to Og’s tank.

  “What do you think of Pearl?” I asked Og.

  He didn’t say a thing for a moment. Then he started hopping up and down, up and down. “BOING-BOING-BOING!” he said.

  “I agree,” I told him. “She wasn’t polite with all that hissing. I still think she was a little afraid of us. She’s probably never seen a frog or a hamster before.”

  Og turned his head left. Then he turned his head right.

  I imagine he was thinking.

  “BOING!” he shouted. He sounded cheerful.

  “Think of it, Og,” I answered. “A dragon was afraid of us! Or maybe she was a little jealous because we get to be classroom pets and she doesn’t.”

  For a second, I was sorry for Pearl. But that didn’t last long.

  I still had work to do, so I w
ent back to my cage and grabbed my little notebook.

  Despite the fact that I was tired, I knew I was behind the rest of the class and I had to catch up! I looked at my list of things I’d like to do.

  — Help Holly visit Phoebe

  — Help Mrs. Brisbane visit her son Jason in Japan

  — Help Joey see more of his dad

  — Help Cassie go to the ocean

  — Help Sophie go to the parrot island

  — Help Simon go to Italy

  — Help Kelsey go to the ballet

  — Help Daniel meet D. D. Denby

  Reading the list, I realized that what I REALLY-REALLY-REALLY like to do is to help my human friends. There was no way one little hamster could accomplish such big goals in real life, but Mrs. Brisbane said it should be fiction. Maybe if I used my imagination, I could think of something.

  “Watch out,” I squeaked to Og. “There might be another brainstorm!”

  If I could fly, how could I help my friends? A flying squirrel wouldn’t work for me. I’d need to fly like a hamster.

  But one hamster couldn’t accomplish everything I wanted to do.

  I’d need my own great big airplane. Then I could fly to the pyramids and Phoebe’s house and I could fly Mrs. Brisbane to Tokyo.

  That was it! Flying Hamster Airlines! I could fly all my friends to places they wanted to go. And since it was an imaginary airline, I could fly to imaginary places, too!

  “Og, if I could fly, I’d start my own airline,” I squeaked.

  He splashed around in the water, which usually means he’s happy.

  But I don’t know if frogs even know what an airline is.

  “That means you fly people all over the world in a big shiny airplane,” I explained. “Hey, if you could fly, you could start a Flying Frog Airlines!”

  “BOING-BOING-BOING-BOING!” Og leaped into the water and began to splash.

  I guess he knew what an airline was after all.

  I grabbed my pencil and began to write.

  I’m proud to be the first hamster ever to become an airplane pilot. Now that I’ve started my own company, Flying Hamster Airlines, I can fly my human friends anywhere they want to go.

  I kept on writing, without even pausing.

  First, I’ll drop Holly off at Phoebe’s house, and spend some time catching up with my old friend. Next, I’ll take Joey to the town where his dad lives. Then I’ll zip over to Europe so Simon can eat Italian food and I’ll take Kelsey to see a ballet in Paris . . .

  I wrote and wrote and wrote.

  I didn’t even notice how tired my paw was getting.

  And when I was finished and I read what I’d written, I felt . . . well, proud!

  MY WRITER’S RAMBLINGS

  I tried and tried again

  and then I kept on trying.

  And now I am so happy:

  my imagination’s flying!

  Rosie’s Casa

  My friends’ imaginations were flying as well—all except for Joey’s. He still spent more time staring at his notebook than writing in it.

  Believe me, I knew how he felt.

  Mrs. Brisbane was encouraging, but somehow, she wasn’t getting through to him.

  One day, the Most Important Person at Longfellow School—our principal, Mr. Morales—came in to see how we were doing. He was wearing a tie with little pencils all over it.

  “I hear you have a room full of authors here,” he said. “Mrs. Brisbane said you’re doing very well.”

  He wandered up and down the aisles, looking at each notebook and making comments.

  When he read Small-Paul’s page about time-traveling through space, he said, “Fantastic idea!”

  He high-fived Sophie when he read about the parrots.

  He had something nice to say about everyone.

  Then he came to Joey. “So, what are you writing about?” the principal asked.

  He couldn’t really tell, because Joey had covered his page with his arm.

  “I’m off to a slow start,” Joey said.

  Mr. Morales persuaded him to move his arm. He studied Joey’s page. “Keep going. I love your idea of flying to Africa.”

  Joey muttered, “Thanks.” I don’t think he believed Mr. Morales, but our principal would never lie!

  “What’s this?” Mr. Morales asked, nudging Joey’s arm. “On this page?”

  Joey wrinkled his nose. “Oh, just doodles. I’m always doodling.”

  “But they’re very good,” Mr. Morales said. “They are very, very good.”

  “I like to fool around with drawing,” Joey said, sitting up straighter in his chair.

  “You should illustrate your story,” Mr. Morales said. “Don’t you think so, Mrs. Brisbane?”

  Mrs. Brisbane came over to Joey’s desk and looked at his notebook. “I hadn’t seen these. Mr. Morales is right.”

  “Is it all right for us to draw pictures for our stories?” Thomas asked.

  “Yes,” Mrs. Brisbane said. “I think it would be great. But this is a writing assignment, so you need to have words to go with the pictures.”

  Joey seemed more interested.

  Mr. Morales looked at Rosie’s notebook next. He smiled when he read what she’d written. “Great description.”

  Rosie’s smile lit up the whole room!

  Then he talked to the whole class. “Mrs. Brisbane and I have been talking, and we’ve come up with a big surprise for you when you’ve finished your stories.”

  That got my whiskers wiggling! And my friends seemed excited, too.

  “So do the best work you can,” Mr. Morales continued. “You’ve got something big to look forward to.”

  “How big?” I squeaked. “As big as an elephant? Or a dragon?”

  Mr. Morales heard me and laughed. “Oh, do you have a story idea, Humphrey?”

  “Yes! I do!” I squeaked.

  Everybody laughed at that. “I think I’d like to read your story,” Mr. Morales said, acting as if he understood me.

  Suddenly, I realized that as good as my story might be, no one would ever read it.

  And stories are meant to be shared.

  I hopped on my wheel and began to spin to shake off my disappointment.

  As soon as school emptied out, I scurried out of Room 26. “I’ll be quick,” I told Og.

  “BOING-BOING!” Og chimed.

  As soon as I slid under the door of Room 12, Gigi said, “Is that you, Humphrey?”

  “Yes, here I am!” I squeaked as I rushed toward her table.

  I swung up to her tabletop and noticed that she wasn’t shaking the way she usually did.

  “What’s new?” I asked.

  “Yesterday, a boy told me I was his best friend,” she squeaked in her soft voice. “And today, a girl said she loves me!”

  “That is unsqueakably wonderful!” I said. “That’s why being a classroom pet is the BEST-BEST-BEST job in the world.”

  “Now I understand,” she said. “Thank you for encouraging me.”

  “Anytime,” I said.

  It was getting dark outside. “I’ve got to get back,” I told Gigi. “But I’ll see you soon!”

  When I returned, I told Og, “Now Gigi loves being a classroom pet.”

  “BOING-BOING!” Og replied. I knew he loved being a classroom pet, too. Especially in Room 26.

  I worked on my story, even though I knew no one else would ever read it.

  Still, it was exciting to get my ideas down on paper.

  On Thursday morning, I overheard Joey talking to Mrs. Brisbane.

  “So, what did your mom say?” our teacher asked him.

  Joey looked so disappointed. “She said this isn’t a good week. That’s what she says every week. I don’t think I’ll ever get
a turn.”

  “Your mother is very busy. But I have an idea,” our teacher said. “Rosie said she could bring Humphrey home this weekend. Don’t you live on her street?”

  Joey nodded.

  “It’s her first time taking Humphrey home,” Mrs. Brisbane said. “Maybe you could go to her house and help her out.”

  Joey shrugged. “I guess I could do that.”

  That afternoon, I overheard Mrs. Brisbane talking to Rolling-Rosie.

  “I was wondering if you’d like to invite Joey to come over this weekend,” Mrs. Brisbane said. “He hasn’t been able to take Humphrey home and he knows a lot about hamsters.”

  “Sure,” Rosie said. “I’d like that. He lives just down the street.”

  Mrs. Brisbane hesitated. “And you know, maybe you could help Joey with his writing. He has wonderful ideas, but he has trouble getting them down on paper. You’re doing a great job, so maybe . . .”

  Rosie nodded. “Yes, I’ll do it.”

  “But don’t let him think you don’t like what he’s written,” Mrs. Brisbane said.

  Rosie shook her head. “No! I’ll just cheer him on. Like you always do.”

  “Thank you, Rosie,” Mrs. Brisbane told her with a smile.

  On Friday, Rosie’s dad—she called him “Papa”—came to pick us up.

  “So, Humphrey, I hope you know what you’re getting into, coming to our house,” Papa said. “It’s a pretty busy place.”

  “I know I’ll like it,” I said.

  When we got there, I met her younger brother and sister, Diego and Elena. And Rosie’s mom—she called her “Mama”—was very friendly.

  “Rosie is in charge of Humphrey,” she told Diego and Elena. “Don’t touch the cage or do anything else without asking her first.”

  She is a wise mama!

  On Saturday, Mama went to the store. When the doorbell rang, Rosie rolled to the door as her father opened it.

  Joey was standing there, holding a skateboard.

  “Come on in,” Papa said in his booming voice.

  “Here’s Humphrey,” she said as she rolled her chair in my direction. “I waited for you to clean out his cage. I could use your help.”

  Joey leaned down and put his face close to mine. “Hey, Humph,” he said. “How’s it going?”