While my friends wrote, things were clinking and clanging and rattling and rolling around as Mr. E. poked around in the art supply bins. Soon, there was a big mound of markers and boxes of colored pencils and crayons on the desk. I saw more construction paper, brightly colored yarn, scissors, glue, and jars of buttons, beads and glitter.
When Mr. E. told my friends to take what art supplies they needed for their cards, everyone raced forward at once.
“I wanted those markers!” Simon said.
“I got here first,” Thomas replied, clutching the markers to his chest.
“Oooh, feathers!” Phoebe said.
Rolling-Rosie rolled toward the desk. “Hey, I need those,” she said.
“Ow! Rosie ran over my foot!” Sophie complained.
“Did not!” Rosie said.
My friends never acted like that when Mrs. Brisbane was in the classroom.
I could hardly tell what anyone was saying because there was so much commotion.
Suddenly, my whole body was shaken by the shrill and painful blast of a whistle!
Everyone got quiet then.
I didn’t even have to look to know that Mrs. Wright was standing in the doorway.
“What’s going on here?” she asked.
“We’re making cards for Mrs. Brisbane,” the substitute answered.
“What you’re making is an uproar,” she said. “I could hear you way down the hall. And according to the school policy, you should not be able to hear what’s going on in a classroom from the hallway.”
Mrs. Wright walked into the classroom, and I saw that she wasn’t alone. Hurry-Up-Harry was with her.
“I don’t suppose you noticed that one of your students was missing,” she said.
Harry hung his head and looked extremely unhappy.
“I guess I’m still getting used to all the students,” Mr. E. said. “Come on in, Harry. Make a card for Mrs. Brisbane.”
Mrs. Wright fingered the whistle hanging down from her neck. I braced myself, just in case she blew it again.
“Mr. Edopopopolous, at Longfellow School, we don’t permit our students to roam the halls whenever they want,” Mrs. Wright said. “I found Harry staring into the window of Room Fourteen!” She sounded shocked.
“They’re building an amazing tower,” Harry explained.
“What’s amazing is that you weren’t in your classroom, like all the other students at school,” Mrs. Wright said. “I will have to report Harry to the principal.”
“I’ll handle this,” Mr. E. said.
Mrs. Wright looked surprised. “Really? You’ll put in a report?”
Mr. E. nodded. “That’s right, Mrs. Wright.”
I was surprised—and relieved—when Mrs. Wright and her whistle left the room. But I was sorry that Hurry-Up-Harry was going to get in trouble. He’d gotten in trouble a lot at the beginning of the year for being late. But he’d been so much better . . . until Mr. E. arrived.
“Do I have to go to the office?” Harry asked.
“No, Harry. But this class is just as much fun as Room Fourteen,” Mr. E. said. “Come on. Let’s make cards! Make them funny and bright with lots of pizzazz!”
Pizzazz? What on earth was pizzazz? I’d never heard that word before. I’d never seen it on a vocabulary list, either.
Was it like glitter and beads and glue? Or was it like pizza?
Whatever it was, it was definitely a mystery word that I found very piewhacking!
My friends spent the rest of the morning on the cards, working furiously. Feathers flew, scissors snipped, and there was glitter everywhere.
Joey still seemed to be struggling as he stared at his card. Maybe Joey needed help, but Mr. E. didn’t seem to notice.
I think Mrs. Brisbane would have noticed.
When the bell for lunch rang, my friends raced out the door while Mr. E. restacked the art supplies.
“Everything okay?” Ms. Mac said as she poked her head in the door.
“Fabulous,” Mr. E. said. “Better than I ever expected. Wait . . . I’ll walk to the lunchroom with you.”
At last, Og and I were alone!
“Og!” I squeaked excitedly.
“BOING!” he twanged.
“The class is a mess without Mrs. Brisbane!” I shouted. “The students are falling back into their bad habits! Harry’s late again, and there’s too much noise and no vocabulary quiz or Sherlock Holmes!”
Og splashed wildly in the water side of his tank. “BOING-BOING-BOING-BOING!”
I could tell he was almost as upset as I was.
“And I want to make Mrs. Brisbane a card!” I said.
“BOING-BOING!”
“And I want to find out where she is!” I added.
“BOING-BOING-BOING!”
There was so much to think about.
I wondered if Harry would get back to class on time.
I wondered if Mr. E. would teach us something in the afternoon.
I wondered if Mrs. Brisbane would EVER-EVER-EVER be back!
My fellow students came back after lunch—all except one.
Hurry-Up-Harry wasn’t missing, but Forgetful-Phoebe was!
However, she showed up right after the bell rang.
“Sorry, Mr. E.,” she said.
“Not a problem,” he answered. “Take a seat, because now we’re going to play . . . Math Monsters!”
He took his fingers and pulled out the corners of his mouth and the corners of his eyes. He looked pretty creepy, especially when he made a scary laugh, like a witch.
“After all . . . you know what’s coming soon!” he continued.
There was a pause and then Thomas shouted, “Halloween!”
Then everyone else started shouting, “Halloween!”
My classmates seemed happy about it. But I remembered last year’s Halloween, with creepy smiling pumpkins and ghosts and goblins and monsters. Now it was coming back? Eeek!
After school, Og and I had some visitors.
“Hello,” Mr. E. greeted them. “What can I do for you?”
“We were in this class last year,” a soft voice said. It was Speak-Up-Sayeh! She was one of my best friends in Room 26 last year. “We came to see Humphrey and Og.”
“Be my guest,” Mr. E. said, and soon, Og and I were surrounded by familiar, friendly faces.
“Hi, Humphrey Dumpty! Boy, bad news about Mrs. Brisbane!” That was good old A.J.’s loud voice.
“YES-YES-YES!” I agreed.
“Poor Humphrey! Poor Og! You must miss Mrs. Brisbane a lot,” said Golden-Miranda. She was such a wonderful friend . . . with a terrible dog. “But I’m sure she misses you, too.”
“Hi, Humphrey! Winky says hi!” said Mandy, whose hamster, Winky, was a friend of mine.
It was great to see my old friends. But it was sad, too, because they reminded me of happy days in Room 26 with Mrs. Brisbane.
My teacher.
Or was she?
HUMPHREY’S DETECTIONARY: It’s a mystery to me why humans enjoy a very frightening holiday like Halloween!
8
The Case of the Mysterious Messages
Mamma mia! What happened here?” Aldo said as he pulled his cleaning cart into the room and looked around.
I looked around, too, and what I saw was almost as scary as Halloween.
The room was a mess. On the floor were scraps of paper, yarn, buttons, beads, markers and crayons. On top of the tables were scissors and overturned glue bottles. And there was glitter glistening on the floor like snow.
“EEEK-EEEK-EEEK!” I squeaked.
“BOING-BOING-BOING!” Og twanged.
Aldo leaned on his broom and shook his head. “I can
tell Mrs. Brisbane wasn’t here today. She never leaves her room messy at the end of the day.”
“That’s for sure!” I agreed.
Aldo didn’t have much time to talk. He was too busy sweeping and spraying and scrubbing and mopping up the room.
He stopped when he saw the stack of cards. “Oh, they’re making cards for Mrs. Brisbane. Good idea!” he said. “I’d like to send her a card myself.”
“Me too!” I squeaked.
“BOING-BOING!” Og agreed.
After the room was in order and the art supplies neatly stacked on Mrs. Brisbane’s desk, Aldo took out his lunch and pulled up a chair close to Og’s tank and my cage.
When he finished eating, he went over to Mrs. Brisbane’s desk, took a piece of paper and wrote something on it. He folded it in half. Then he wrote on a smaller piece of paper and stuck it on top of the folded paper.
“Now the substitute will include my card with the others,” Aldo said.
“Can you write one for me?” I squeaked. Aldo usually seems to understand me. But that night, he didn’t.
“Well, I’ve got to run,” he said. “I’ll be late getting home tonight and I have to study for a test.” Then he looked around the room. “But at least the room is clean.”
“Yes, Aldo! You did a GREAT job,” I told him. I meant it, too. Aldo is VERY-VERY-VERY good at his job.
“Thanks, Humphrey,” Aldo said. He wheeled his cart out of the room and turned off the light.
Luckily, a big full moon was making the room nice and bright. It had been a difficult day, but I was feeling brighter myself.
“Og, I think I’ll check out those cards,” I said after Aldo’s car left the parking lot. “And maybe I’ll get more clues about what happened to Mrs. Brisbane.”
“BOING-BOING!” Og said. I’m not sure if he thought my idea was good or if he was just excited about his Froggy Food Sticks.
I took my usual path to get to Mrs. Brisbane’s desk and had no trouble.
“I made it, Og!” I told my friend, who was splashing around in his tank.
I looked UP-UP-UP. The stack of cards was about six hamsters high. There was a bright yellow card with sparkles near the bottom. It was sticking out a bit from the rest of the pile, so I decided to grab it and pull.
That was a big mistake, because as the card came out of the stack, the whole pile tumbled down around me and on me. Luckily, paper doesn’t weigh too much. I wasn’t hurt—just surprised.
Still, I now had the chance to look at all the cards and possibly gather more clues about Mrs. Brisbane’s “disappearance.”
The yellow card with sparkles was from Rosie. The front had red hearts and bright buttons. Inside, it said:
Mrs. Brisbane, I miss you the most! Come back and I’ll pop a wheelie for you!
Love, Rosie
The last part was in a big red heart. I’m not sure Mrs. Brisbane would be happy to see Rosie “pop a wheelie” for her. That’s a trick she can do with her wheelchair, but Mrs. Brisbane made her promise not to do it at school anymore. I guess Rosie just meant she’d be happy to see our teacher back in the classroom.
Then I looked at a blue card. It was from Small-Paul. On the front was a drawing of a rocket. Inside, it said:
I hope you’ll be launched back into Room 26 soon. I miss you!
Paul F.
“Eeek!” I squeaked. Had Mrs. Brisbane been launched into outer space?
Next, I looked at one that was bright pink. It had lots of fancy writing on the outside and the inside:
Dear Mrs. B.,
When you come back to Room 26, I promise to help you all the time. You don’t have to worry about anything, because I’ll be here for you now and forever! If you ever need something, please call on me.
Your TRUE friend for all time,
Holly
Thomas’s card was covered with red, white and blue yarn. It read:
You are the best teacher in the universe!
Thomas
Sometimes Thomas exaggerates, but this time, I thought he was right. But I was shocked when I read what he wrote at the bottom:
PS I am the best juggler in the class. I can juggle for hours without dropping a ball, just like my dad!
That just wasn’t true. Why did a nice boy like Thomas make up things like that?
The next card was white with fancy purple letters. It said:
Sometimes I forget things, but I never forget all the nice things you do for us.
Come back soon!
Love, Phoebe
I felt a little pang for Phoebe. She was forgetful, but she was also extremely nice.
Kelsey’s card had a drawing of a ballet dancer on it. Inside, it said:
Hope you’ll be up on your toes soon!
From Kelsey
There was a very plain orange card with blue letters. No glitter, no beads, no buttons. It said:
I’m not good at fancy words, but I miss you.
Just Joey
Joey’s card was nice and simple. I knew Mrs. Brisbane would like it, because it sounded like him.
“Og, these cards are so nice!” I shouted to my friend. “Our friends did a great job!”
He splashed around in a happy-sounding way.
I read all the cards. The more I read, the more I wished I could make a card for Mrs. Brisbane, too.
I looked over at the art supplies. Markers, crayons, glue and glitter make a very nice-looking card. But I also knew they were dangerous . . . at least to hamsters.
Hamsters like me don’t wash our paws in soap and water. In fact, soap and water aren’t good for us at all. NO-NO-NO! We groom ourselves using our tongues and paws. So if I got glue or markers on my paws and licked it off, I might get very sick.
Maybe I could add some pizzazz. Mr. E. had suggested that. But I looked and looked and couldn’t find any jar or bottle or box marked pizzazz.
I’d have to make a plain card like Just-Joey’s.
I went slowly back to my cage. All the cards were great, but one stuck in my mind.
Kelsey had said she hoped Mrs. Brisbane would be up on her toes soon.
Up on her toes? That sounded like a clue. Was Mrs. Brisbane actually going to be a ballet dancer?
I tried to imagine our teacher, with her short gray hair and her sensible shoes, twirling around like a ballerina. She didn’t look like the dancer in Kelsey’s music box. But if Mrs. Brisbane wanted to be a ballerina, then that’s what she should be. (Even though I think she makes a better teacher.)
I pulled out my little notebook and pencil from behind my mirror.
First, I added a clue to my list:
Clue 5: Mrs. Brisbane may be learning to be a ballet dancer.
I wasn’t sure about that, so I added a couple of question marks.
????
Next, I turned the page and thought about what to write to my teacher.
I wanted to say just the right thing. I thought and thought and thought some more. Sometimes it’s easier to say something you feel in your heart with a poem. And so I wrote:
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Oh, Mrs. Brisbane—
How much I miss you!
I looked it over and liked it, so I signed it:
Humphrey
I read it to Og.
“BOING-BOING-BOING-BOING!” he twanged.
“Oops! Sorry, Og,” I replied.
Then I added:
Og, too
“I signed your name, too, Og,” I assured my neighbor. (He can’t write. At least I don’t think he can write. And he doesn’t have a notebook. If he did, it would have to be waterproof!)
I tore the page from the notebook, but when
I looked at it, it seemed a little too plain.
I didn’t know how to make it fancier.
I looked around my cage and dug around in my bedding. All I came up with was a tiny piece of carrot I’d saved and the strawberry Kelsey had brought.
It was the juiciest strawberry I’d ever seen.
“Og, I have a great idea!” I squeaked.
I rubbed my paws all over the strawberry to get them nice and juicy. Then I made little red paw prints around the edge. It looked very nice, if I do say so myself.
And when I was finished, I licked the red juice off my paws. Yummy!
Of course, then I had to take the card over to the desk. I picked up the paper with my teeth, jiggled the lock-that-doesn’t-lock and opened the door to my cage.
Og splashed gently in his tank as I passed by.
“Oh!” I said. Of course, as soon as I opened my mouth, the paper dropped to the table.
“Sorry, Og,” I said. “I wish you could add your mark, too.”
“BOING!” Og answered, splashing.
“Or maybe you can! I’m leaving the card here,” I explained. “Then I’ll go behind my cage. Splash some water, and then I’ll come back for the card.”
I left the paper near his tank, scurried away and squeaked, “Now!”
Og splashed and splashed some more.
“Not too much,” I said. “You can stop now.”
I waited until Og stopped splashing and raced back to the paper.
There were several little water marks on the paper now. I HOPED-HOPED-HOPED Mrs. Brisbane would know that Og had made them.
I picked up the paper with my teeth again and made my second trip of the night down the table leg and back to the desk.
The stack of cards was now a mound of cards. There was no way a small hamster could stack them all up again, so I just pushed my card into the pile. Then I made the long trek back to my cage and closed the door behind me.
Mysteries According to Humphrey Page 6
