Trouble According to Humphrey

by Betty G. Birney

  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

  Double Trouble

  Trouble. 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 ra
te, 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.

  “Whew! I’m going to have to hustle to get all my work done. I do feel better, though.”

  Aldo pushed his broom around the room like an artist painting a masterpiece. (We saw a great film showing a famous artist at work. I like seeing movies in class.) He missed the spitball on the floor but at least he didn’t notice it. (Whew!) He finished cleaning the room in half his usual time.

  “Gotta run, guys. Catch you tomorrow night!” he said as he raced out the door with his cart.

  Og and I sat in silence for a while, listening to the clock TICK-TICK-TICK-ing away.

  “I’m sure glad that worked,” I finally squeaked.

  Og jumped so high, he hit the cover of his glass house and almost popped the top.

  “BOING-BOING!” he twanged.

  For once, I knew exactly what he meant. Even though I’d kept Aldo out of trouble, I still had a lot more work to do.

  LONGFELLOW CUSTODIAN

  ATTENDS LOCAL COLLEGE!

  Aldo Amato says the extra hours of studying will be

  well worth it once he becomes a teacher.

  The Humphreyville Herald

  Too Much Payne

  While I’d been worrying about everybody’s troubles, my classmates kept working on Humphreyville. One day, they all left to go on a field trip to City Hall. How Og and I would have loved to go along! When they came back, Tabitha, Seth and Richie made a model park with swings and a slide, a baseball field and lots of trees. Tabitha must have made dozens of paper leaves for those trees!

  At the same time, Richie, Gail and A.J. built a courthouse with pillars made out of the cardboard rolls that come in the middle of paper towels. (Mrs. Brisbane always keeps plenty of paper towels near my cage.)

  Garth, Art and Heidi made a school out of plastic blocks. It had a playground, too! Humphreyville would certainly be a fun place to live, with two playgrounds in it.

  I wasn’t sure what Miranda and Sayeh were working on, but they kept looking over at me and giggling. In fact, their giggling made me uncomfortable. The more they giggled, the more I wiggled, and that made them laugh even more. I was glad to see that Miranda was feeling better.

  I wished I felt better.

  I felt especially bad when on Tuesday, Mrs. Brisbane suggested that Paul spend some time helping Mandy study for the math test she was going to retake.

  “Know-It-All-Paul?” she blurted out. “He’s just a baby!”

  “Is not!” a voice called out.

  Art had actually jumped out of his seat and his fists were clenched, though I don’t think he was the type to hit anybody.

  Paul looked as if someone had already punched him in the stomach.

  Mrs. Brisbane wasn’t happy. “Sit down, Art. Now, Mandy, that was cruel and uncalled-for. I demand that you apologize right now.”

  Mandy hung her head. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Paul’s so smart, he makes me feel dumb.”

  “You are not dumb, Mandy. No one in this class is dumb! Now, I want you and Paul to sit in the back of the room and go over your test together while the rest of us work on some other problems.”

  This time, Mandy didn’t complain. She and Paul sat in the back of the room. He went over her paper and quietly talked to her about it. Sometimes she seemed puzzled. Sometimes she nodded her head. By the time math class was over, she and Paul both looked happier.

  On Thursday, during morning recess, Mandy took her math test again. She worked HARD-HARD-HARD, sometimes tugging at her hair and sometimes sticking the tip of her tongue out a little. (I do that, too, when I’m concentrating.) She worked through the whole recess period and then, with a loud sigh, handed her paper to Mrs. Brisbane.

  “I’ll grade it right now if you like, Mandy.”

  “Okay, but I probably didn’t do any better.”

  “You studied, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want to stay while I grade it?” Mrs. Brisbane asked.

  “Yes, please,” said Mandy.

  Mrs. Brisbane took the test to her desk. Og didn’t move a muscle, but I nervously gnawed on my paws. The teacher’s pencil made some marks on the first page and a few on the second page. On the third page, her pencil didn’t even move.

  Mandy sat with her head down on the table. She couldn’t stand to watch Mrs. Brisbane grade her test.

  Finally, Mrs. Brisbane stood up. “You got an 85%, Mandy. That’s a good solid B. Maybe even a B plus. Congratulations!”

  Mandy had a smile on her face that I’d never seen before. “An 85!”

  “Yes. You must have studied. And maybe Paul helped a little?”

  “He did,” said Mandy.
“I’ll thank him. And I have something else.” She reached in her pocket and pulled out a somewhat crumpled piece of paper. “The permission slip to bring Humphrey home. My dad finally signed it.”

  Mrs. Brisbane walked over, took the paper and examined it carefully. “Well, this is a good day for you, Mandy. Your math grade went up and you’ll be taking Humphrey home this weekend. Now, you have to promise me one thing.”

  “What’s that?” asked Mandy.

  “That you’ll never say you’re dumb again. And that you won’t ever call people names.”

  “I promise,” said Mandy.

  I felt so happy, I jumped on my wheel and spun like crazy. I heard a giant splash and knew that Og was taking a swim because he was GLAD-GLAD-GLAD, too.

  For a while, I’d forgotten the Trouble. I even chowed down on some Nutri-Nibbles and yogurt drops I’d been saving. Yum!

  That afternoon, Mrs. Brisbane called Miranda and Sayeh up to the front of the room. “Why don’t you two tell the class about the surprise you’ve been working on?”

  Sayeh and Miranda smiled at each other. Miranda had something wrapped in a cloth, which she set on Mrs. Brisbane’s desk.

  “Most communities honor the person the town is named for by putting up a statue,” said Sayeh in her clear, soft voice.

  “So we made a statue of our founder … Humphrey!” Miranda lifted the cloth and unveiled a statue of ME-ME-ME! It looked exactly like me except that they had painted it shiny gold.

  All the students applauded and Og let out a loud BOING!

  Miranda and Sayeh placed the statue right in the middle of the park.

  “I hope you like it, Humphrey,” said Miranda.

  I liked it, all right. Okay, I loved it. But I didn’t like the feeling I was feeling inside. I think it’s called “guilt.” It’s an awful feeling, like when someone does something nice to you but you do something rotten to her. I crawled into my sleeping hut. The guilt feeling came right along with me.

  When Mandy’s father arrived in Room 26 to pick us up after school on Friday, he also had a small boy by the hand. The boy had big brown eyes, like Mandy, and a brown coat that was too big for him. Mrs. Brisbane shook hands with Mr. Payne and bent down to greet the boy.