Mysteries According to Humphrey

by Betty G. Birney

  The space under the door was unsqueakably narrow. I took a deep breath, exhaled and then pushed. Ooof! At first I didn’t go through at all. But I gave another big push and suddenly, there I was in Mrs. Wright’s office.

  Now all I had to do was find the lost and found!

  One wall had a cabinet with a big lock on it. I hoped that wasn’t the lost and found, since I didn’t know how to open a lock without a key. Luckily, the sign on it read Equipment.

  I looked around and saw a desk against the opposite wall. On the shelf next to the desk there was another sign: Lost and Found.

  “That’s it!” I squeaked, even though there was no one around to hear me. At least I hoped there was no one around to hear me!

  There was a stack of boxes next to Mrs. Wright’s desk. I was able to climb them like steps and make my way to her desktop.

  I paused to catch my breath, and I suddenly realized that Mrs. Wright wouldn’t be happy to see me on her desk.

  Mrs. Wright liked to see everything in its place. And she thought my place was in my cage.

  Then I saw something terrible: MRS. WRIGHT’S WHISTLE! It was lying right there on top of her desk.

  Funny, I’d always imagined that she wore that whistle everywhere. But I guess she went home without it. (Lucky for her family.)

  It was silver and shiny and hard. I walked right up to it—so close I could see my reflection in it.

  “You’re not so scary!” I squeaked.

  The whistle didn’t say anything. I hadn’t expected an answer, but still, I was relieved.

  “You’re not so big!” I yelled at the whistle.

  Again, the whistle was silent.

  “You’re not so loud!” I yelled again.

  The room stayed QUIET-QUIET-QUIET.

  I could have stayed there a lot longer just yelling at that loud, rude whistle, but I had work to do.

  Mrs. Wright’s desk was tidy, and so was the lost-and-found shelf.

  As neat as it was, I thought about the creepy things Thomas said he’d seen, so I decided to check it out from the desk first. I didn’t see anything like a snake or a severed hand. Or even anything large, like the tuba Aldo mentioned.

  What I did see were large plastic bins labeled Clothing, Notebooks, Pens and Pencils, Books, Lunch Boxes, Jewelry, Other.

  Jewelry? Phoebe’s watch could be in that bin.

  I was able to hop directly from the desk to the lost-and-found shelf. As I hurried toward the jewelry bin, I could see through the little holes in the other boxes I passed.

  In the clothing bin, I saw a sweater with blue polka dots, one striped sock, a green mitten, a pink backpack, a single red sneaker.

  The next bin held dozens of pens, pencils, notebooks, a dictionary, and a book of music.

  Then there was the bin filled with plastic lunch boxes and a thermos.

  I finally reached the bin marked Jewelry and stopped to peer inside.

  OH-OH-OH! There were chains of gold and silver, sparkly rings and those things girls wear in their hair and big, bright shiny things.

  But I was only looking for one thing: Phoebe’s watch. I needed to take a closer look.

  I scrambled up the side of the bin, clinging to the edges of the holes. When I got to the top, I crossed my paws, held my breath . . . and dived right in!

  I landed with a CLATTER-CLATTER-CLATTER and began to make my way through a sea of jewelry. It wasn’t easy, because the items kept shifting beneath my toes.

  I poked around with my paws and carefully began to dig through the tangle of rings, bracelets and necklaces. If only their owners had thought to check the lost and found!

  Then I spied something round that had numbers on it in a circle. Yep, that was a watch all right. I liked the red band and the stars in between the numbers. I flipped it over. There was no name on it except Timewell, which I think was the name of the company that made the watch. At least I didn’t know of any students at Longfellow School named Timewell.

  It was a very nice watch, but it didn’t fit Phoebe’s description.

  After some more poking, I found another round clock face. I tugged it out of the pile. It had a gold band, and in the center of the clock face was a smiling yellow flower. There was no name at all on the back of that watch.

  I heard Phoebe’s voice in my head. “My daisy watch,” she’d called it.

  Even Kelsey had called it “your daisy watch.”

  Well, a daisy is a yellow flower. This had to be Phoebe’s watch!

  To humans, I’m sure a child’s watch doesn’t seem too big, but it looked HUGE-HUGE-HUGE to me! I tried using my teeth to drag it an inch or two, but I soon realized that if I dragged it all the way back to the classroom, it would probably get scratched and dented.

  I might get a little scratched and dented, too.

  So I stopped and looked at the watch. The band was a stretchy circle, and it wasn’t very big.

  I put my front paws into the center of the circle and lifted one side over the back of my head. The band just fit around my middle. I took a few steps and was relieved that the watch didn’t fall off.

  Getting out of the bin took all my strength, because the watch made my body heavier.

  Once I was out, I scurried across the shelf and leaped onto the desk. The weight of the watch made me slide and I just missed running into Mrs. Wright’s whistle. Scary!

  I came to a stop next to a pad of paper that had this word on it: Military.

  Normally, I wouldn’t have paid attention, but I’d just heard Phoebe talking about her parents being away in the military and how much she missed them.

  So I took a closer look. The paper read:

  MKC: MILITARY KIDS CLUB

  A brand-new club!

  If you are a student with a parent in the military, join us for weekly fun outings, tasty treats, thoughtful discussion groups and a chance to make friends with kids who are just like you!

  There was a telephone number to call at the bottom.

  The Military Kids Club sounded perfect for Phoebe. She needed fun outings, and if she had friends to talk to who were going through the same things she was, maybe she would be able to relax. Maybe she wouldn’t be so forgetful.

  And everyone—even me—loves tasty treats!

  But how could I get the information to Phoebe? I certainly couldn’t carry a whole pad of paper back to Room 26.

  Gently, I took the bottom edge of the top paper and tugged. It tore off the pad and I could see that there were identical notes beneath it.

  So with the note for Phoebe in my teeth and her watch around my body, I started down the stair-step boxes but—whoa! The heavy watch made me feel all wobbly and I had to slow way down. I landed hard on the floor and made my way to the door.

  I’d forgotten how small the space was under the door. With the watch around my middle, I couldn’t fit. So I wiggled my way out of the watch and pushed it under the door.

  I squeezed through the gap next. Once I was on the other side, I put the watch back on.

  The trip back from the lost and found took twice as long as the trip to the lost and found, and the watch felt heavier and heavier with every step.

  When I got back to Room 26, I had to push the watch under the door again.

  By the time I finally slid under the door to Room 26, it was already getting light outside.

  “I found it, Og!” I squeaked.

  Of course, as soon as I opened my mouth, the paper fell out, but I managed to grab it with my teeth again.

  “BOING-BOING-BOING-BOING!” Og replied. He must have been awfully worried about me while I was gone.

  There was no time to waste, and I was exhausted. But I still had to make sure Phoebe got the watch.

  “BOING-BOING!” Og war
ned.

  I looked up at the clock. School would start soon, and I didn’t want to be caught outside of my cage!

  It would take a long time to climb all the way to Phoebe’s table, leave the watch and get back down again.

  I made a quick decision and headed to our table by the window.

  There was the blinds cord. Swinging myself back up to the table is always tricky, but with Phoebe’s watch (which now seemed to weigh a ton) and the paper in my mouth, I knew it would be harder than ever.

  What I didn’t expect was that the weight of the watch would make me swing faster than usual. It was a wild ride and my tummy felt queasy and uneasy.

  Whew! I leaped onto the tabletop and slid FAST-FAST-FAST past Og’s tank and right up to my door.

  I wiggled my way out of the watch and left it on top of the MKC paper right in front of my cage.

  “I got the watch, Og!” I said. “I’ll tell you more later.”

  Then I darted inside, pulled the door behind me and ran into my sleeping hut.

  In seconds, I was fast asleep.

  HUMPHREY’S DETECTIONARY: Surprisingly, while you’re solving one mystery, like where to find a watch, you might find a solution to another mystery, like how to help a friend.

  11

  The Case of the Creepy Classroom

  As soon as the morning bell rang, I leaped out of my sleeping hut because I wanted to make sure Phoebe found the watch and the MKC notice.

  While I was waiting for her to arrive, Thomas came in and tapped Just-Joey on the shoulder. He had a big friendly smile and said, “Hey, Joey . . . want to shoot some hoops after school?”

  Joey looked surprised. He didn’t smile at all. “I’m busy,” he said.

  “Maybe tomorrow?” Thomas asked.

  Joey shook his head. “I don’t think so.” And then he walked away.

  Thomas wasn’t smiling anymore.

  I think Thomas is a nice boy. I know for a fact that Joey is a nice boy. But I didn’t think Joey was being very nice to Thomas.

  “What’s going on, Og?” I asked my froggy friend.

  “BOING-BOING!” he replied.

  “I’m not sure I want any more mysteries to solve,” I squeaked.

  Og dived into the water and splashed around.

  Just then, Phoebe came into the classroom and went straight to her table.

  “Over here, Phoebe!” I squeaked at the top of my lungs.

  She didn’t pay any attention, so I jumped up and down.

  “PHOEBE!” I screamed. “OVER HERE!”

  She still didn’t respond, so I climbed up to the top of my cage.

  “WILL SOMEBODY PLEASE TELL PHOEBE TO COME OVER HERE?” I shrieked.

  I heard Rosie giggle. “Look at Humphrey. He’s acting silly!”

  She rolled her wheelchair over to the table for a closer look. Simon, Joey and Kelsey rushed over.

  “Phoebe, come see Humphrey,” Kelsey said.

  Thank goodness!

  Finally, Phoebe came over, too.

  Since an audience had gathered around me, I decided to give them a show.

  Clinging to the top bars of my cage, I made my way, paw over paw, across to the other side.

  “Go, Humphrey, go!” Simon cheered me on.

  “Where’s he going, anyway?” Rosie asked.

  I knew exactly where I was going—to the side of my cage near Phoebe’s watch and the MKC paper. I took a deep breath and I dropped down into the soft bedding.

  I did a double flip-flop. I hadn’t planned on it, but my friends all said, “Oooh!”

  I looked over at the watch and the paper, crossed my paws and hoped.

  “Hey, Phoebe, isn’t this your watch?” Kelsey asked.

  Phoebe stared at the watch. “It is!” She picked it up. “But I looked here yesterday. How did I miss it?”

  “Maybe the custodian found it,” Rosie suggested.

  Phoebe put on her watch and smiled.

  I crossed my paws tighter.

  Kelsey picked up the MKC notice. “It was sitting on this,” she said.

  She handed the paper to Phoebe, who stared at it and stared some more.

  The bell rang and the students all headed for their chairs.

  Phoebe slipped the paper into her pocket.

  It worked! I could finally uncross my paws. Phoebe had her watch back, and maybe she’d call that number for MKC.

  I was proud of myself, but my joy didn’t last long, because when I looked over at Thomas, he was staring at his desk and looking about as unhappy as a human could look.

  “Class, get ready for a ton of fun!” Mr. E. announced.

  I wasn’t in the mood for fun, so I crawled into my sleeping hut and had a nice dream about Phoebe’s daisy watch.

  When I awoke, I thought I was having a bad dream. In fact, I thought I was having a nightmare!

  There were ghosts hanging from the ceiling! There were witches and broomsticks and black cats flying above the bulletin board! And there were leering pumpkins of every shape and size pinned on the board.

  “Eeek!” I squeaked.

  I don’t think anybody heard me.

  “I’ll bet this is the best-decorated room in all of Longfellow School,” Mr. E. told my friends.

  To squeak the truth, he was probably right. But I didn’t think looking at those hideous grinning pumpkin faces and ghastly ghosts all night long would be best for me.

  “And don’t forget, there’ll be a costume party on Halloween next week,” Mr. E. reminded the class.

  “Eeek!” I squeaked again.

  As if my paws weren’t already full (of problems), now I had to come up with a costume.

  Humans just don’t realize how much a classroom hamster has to do.

  After school, Mr. Morales came into the classroom. “Nice decorations, Ed,” he said.

  Mr. E. looked very proud. Mr. Morales took a piece of paper out of his pocket. “Have you got a moment?”

  “Sure,” Mr. E. said.

  The two men sat in some student chairs. Grown-up humans always look funny sitting in those small chairs.

  “How have things been going with the class?” the principal asked.

  “Great,” Mr. E. said. “The kids are the best.”

  Mr. Morales nodded. “Yes, and I can tell they like you a lot.”

  Mr. E. smiled and I think his red hair glowed a little brighter.

  “But there have been a few problems,” Mr. Morales continued.

  “Yes, there have!” I squeaked. “Problems like Phoebe-Harry-Kelsey-Simon-Rosie-Holly-Thomas!”

  I know all that the principal heard was “SQUEAK-SQUEAK-SQUEAK,” and it made him laugh.

  “Yes, Humphrey, I know you’re listening,” he said.

  Mr. E. cleared his throat. “What, um, problems?”

  The principal looked down at the paper. “Well, Mrs. Wright has complained about some safety issues, some injuries, a problem with noise. And a problem with students roaming the halls during class.”

  “Oh,” Mr. E. said. “I guess Mrs. Wright and I don’t see eye to eye.”

  Mr. Morales smiled. “Mrs. Wright does like to follow the rules. But rules are there for a reason, after all.”

  Mr. E. nodded nervously. “Yes, I understand.”

  If he understood, why didn’t he follow them? That was part of the mystery of Mr. E.

  “And a few parents have called to say that they’re concerned about a lack of homework,” Mr. Morales continued.

  Mr. E. chuckled. “I’ll bet the students haven’t complained about that.”

  “No,” Principal Morales replied. “But we’re here to teach the children. I believe that learning is fun, b
ut there’s work involved, too.”

  Mr. E. nodded. And nodded some more. He looked so nervous, even his red hair looked pale.

  “And then there’s Mrs. Brisbane.” Mr. Morales wasn’t smiling anymore. “She’s wondering if you’re keeping up with her lesson plans. She said you haven’t called her with questions.”

  “Oh,” Mr. E. said. “Well, I’ve been following the lesson plans but adding my own touches. Maybe I haven’t been following them closely enough.”

  At least Mr. E. was honest. I liked that about him.

  “The district-wide math test is coming up. Are the students prepared for that?” Mr. Morales asked.

  “Not completely,” Mr. E. said. “Not yet.”

  “Ed, I want to give you a chance. You’re a new teacher, and I know you really want to continue,” Mr. Morales said. “But the learning comes first.”

  “It certainly does!” I squeaked.

  “BOING-BOING-BOING-BOING!” Og agreed.

  “Are you letting me go?” Mr. E. asked.

  “No, Ed,” Mr. Morales said. “I think you can be a good teacher. But I need to see a change starting tomorrow.”

  “Yes, yes, I’ll change,” Mr. E. said. “Thank you for giving me another chance. I won’t let you down.”

  The two men shook hands and Mr. Morales left.

  Once he was alone again, Mr. E. began to mutter something I couldn’t understand. I did hear the word “failed.”

  I know that my fellow classmates don’t want to fail. Maybe teachers don’t want to fail, either.

  After a while, he got up and paced around the room.

  “Don’t give up,” I squeaked. I was trying to helpful.

  I guess Mr. E. heard my squeaks, because he looked my way.

  “I’ll tell you one thing, I’m not giving up yet,” he said.

  He sounded very determined, which gave me hope.

  “Take out the lesson plans,” I squeaked. “In the binder. In the drawer!”

  I didn’t think he was likely to listen to me, since he thought of me as an “it.” But surprisingly, he marched over to the desk, opened the drawer and took out the binder.