I was already queasy just thinking about Bean. As Garth walked toward the back of the bus, looking for an empty seat, my cage swayed back and forth like a ship on a rough sea, which didn’t help my stomach at all. Once we sat down, the bus started rolling. A block later, it abruptly stopped and I slid across the floor of my cage. Ouch!
“All aboard!” I heard Miss Victoria say. “Find a seat, A.J.”
A.J. walked back to our seat. “Move over,” he told Garth.
“I have to sit on the aisle,” Garth replied. “The cage won’t fit in the seat.”
A.J. crawled over Garth so he was close to the window. As he did, he bent down and whispered, “Told you he’d be here. He’s always here.”
As the bus lurched forward, my cage wobbled enough for the blanket to part, so I could see a little. And what I saw was most unpleasant: Marty Bean sitting right next to us.
“Hey, Garth, is that your face or did somebody throw up on you?” I could see the smirk on his face as he leaned in close, mere inches from my cage.
“Is that a cage, Bugwart, or is it your purse?” Bean asked. He hooted at his own joke even though it wasn’t funny.
It may have been cold outside, but I was getting pretty hot. Og might be unfriendly, but this Bean was even worse. I hadn’t thought of Og all weekend. Now it all came back to me: the green skin, the repulsive grin, and the way he had leaped up and scared me. I had taken it from the frog, but I wasn’t going to take it from this big bully.
This was the time to act!
I quickly opened the lock-that-doesn’t-lock and took a deep breath before leaping onto Martin Bean’s leg. “Stop being mean, Bean!” I yelled at the top of my voice. It may have sounded like squeaking to him, but I made my point.
“Eeek!” Marty shouted. “It’s on me! A mouse!” He threw his hands up in the air and screamed as I ran in circles on his leg. “Help me, somebody! Help!”
The faces around me were a blur and I was getting dizzy. As Marty continued to scream, the other kids began to laugh, softly at first, then louder and louder.
“He’s only a little hamster,” I heard Garth say as he scooped me up in his hands. “He wouldn’t hurt a flea.”
I like being called a “he” a lot more than being called an “it.”
“It tried to bite me!” Marty exclaimed. Everybody on the bus, including Beth and her first-grade friends, laughed.
“What is going on back there, Martin?” Miss Victoria called out as she slammed on the brakes.
“They—they threw a big rat on me!” He was almost in tears. “A giant rat!”
“I think you’d better come up and sit behind me,” the bus driver said. “Now!” She had the girls in the seat behind her move as Marty shuffled to the front of the bus.
Garth put me back in my cage.
“Thanks, Humphrey,” he whispered. “I don’t know how you got out, but I’m sure glad you did.”
“Always happy to help out a pal,” I squeaked.
The rest of the ride was uneventful. When Miss Victoria stopped the bus in front of Longfellow School, she made an announcement. “This was the quietest ride we’ve ever had. From now on, Martin Bean, I’m assigning you the front seat. Permanently.”
Marty didn’t argue. He was in too much of a hurry to get off the bus. He could probably hear all the rest of the bus riders—including me—shouting, “Hooray!”
“No enemy can match a friend.”
Jonathan Swift, Irish author
5
Rhyme Time
I felt pretty proud of myself after the bus ride. Once I was back in Room 26, I looked over at my pop-eyed neighbor.
“Morning, Og,” I squeaked to him, hoping that after the long, lonely weekend he might be in a friendlier frame of mind. He responded to my greeting with dead silence and a grim grin. Or maybe he couldn’t see me, because there was a huge piece of paper taped to the front of his glass box.
And something about that note must have been pretty funny, because all my classmates were laughing. Hard.
“All right, what’s so funny?” asked Mrs. Brisbane.
“Og!” said Gail. She was giggling so hard I was afraid she’d get the hiccups again.
Mrs. Brisbane ripped the paper off the cage and read it. “Help! I’m a prince who’s been turned into a frog. Kiss me quick!”
Somebody made loud smacking sounds, which made everyone laugh even louder. Mrs. Brisbane looked up from the paper. “I-Heard-That-Kirk. Are you volunteering to kiss Og?”
It was a pretty disgusting thought to me, but everyone else laughed.
“I think it has to be a girl,” said Kirk.
Mrs. Brisbane folded up the paper. “Thank you for our joke of the day. You can Stop-Giggling-Gail. Now, let’s all calm down and get to work. I’m anxious to hear the poems you’ve written, but let’s get our spelling quiz out of the way first. Please take out a pencil and a piece of paper.”
Whoops! I’d done a lot of thinking over the weekend. Something I hadn’t thought about was our spelling quiz. Mrs. Brisbane and my classmates don’t know that I usually slip into my sleeping house with my notebook and pencil and take the quizzes, too. I still hadn’t gotten 100%, like Sayeh. I hoped I would someday.
This would not be the day.
I did all right with “practice,” “jewel,” and “pound.” But “accommodate”? Did Mrs. Brisbane really think anyone except Sayeh would get that right? It looks like they threw in some extra letters left over from another word!
Next, it was time for the poems. “Kirk, you seem to want to be the center of attention this morning. You can go first.”
Kirk jumped up and said, “I’ve got to write mine on the board.”
Mrs. Brisbane told him to go ahead. When he was finished, he read it aloud.
“It’s called ‘Frog.’ Here goes:
Funny
Ribbits
Oily
Green.
That’s a frog.
Take away the funny ribbits
You’ve got Og!”
Mrs. Brisbane smiled and nodded her head. “Well done, Kirk. Very clever. What do you think, class?”
“Does that say ‘oily’?” asked Repeat-It-Please-Richie. “Frogs aren’t oily.”
Kirk wrinkled his nose. “Well, he looks oily, even if he isn’t. Besides, I need an O word to spell ‘frog.’ ”
Mrs. Brisbane asked the class to help Kirk out with another O word. I decided to squeak up.
“Obnoxious! Offensive!” I yelled. I almost said “Unfriendly,” but it doesn’t begin with an O.
No one seemed to hear me. Sometimes I wish I had a big booming voice like A.J.’s.
“ ‘Honest’?” asked Seth, jumping up out of his seat.
“Sit-Still-Seth. That’s a good guess, but ‘honest’ starts with a silent H.” Mrs. Brisbane wrote the word on the board. Silent H—no fair! I’ll have to watch out for that one.
“How about ‘odd’?” suggested Art.
“What do you think, class? Do some people think frogs are odd?”
Some students nodded their heads. Nobody nodded harder than me.
“What do you think?” the teacher asked Kirk.
“Maybe ‘oddball’ fits him better,” Kirk said, smiling. Everybody seemed to like the answer and I was not about to disagree.
I glanced over at Og to see what he thought. “Boing,” he twanged. Everybody laughed, even Mrs. Brisbane.
“Oh, Og, you are so funny,” she said.
Oddball, yes. Funny, no. In my humble opinion.
Heidi waved her hand in the air. “Og doesn’t say ‘Ribbit.’ He goes ‘Boing.’ ”
“R is for ‘Boing’? Heidi, that makes ‘Roing.’ ” Kirk looked very pleased with himself.
Heidi frowned. “That’s not what I meant.”
“That’s enough on that one, Kirk. Why don’t you work on it a little more?” said Mrs. Brisbane. She called for another volunteer. This time Heidi actually remembered to raise he
r hand. When the teacher called on her, she stood up and read her poem.
I met a little frog
And said, “How do you do?
My name is Hopper.
Is that your name, too?”
He croaked, “My name is Leaper.
That’s what I do all day.”
But when I tried to pick him up,
Leaper ran away.
“Nicely done, Heidi,” said Mrs. Brisbane. “Good rhyming. It’s a funny idea to use your own name. Anyone else?”
No hands were raised this time.
“How about you, Tabitha?” asked the teacher. “What did you write?”
Tabitha looked SCARED-SCARED-SCARED.
Mrs. Brisbane put on her friendliest smile. “Don’t be afraid. We won’t bite, will we, class?”
Most of the kids smiled and shook their heads. Kirk growled like a lion, just to be funny, but I couldn’t tell if Tabitha noticed.
Slowly, she stood up and picked up her paper. In a soft voice, she read her poem like it was one sentence, really fast, like this:
“People-think-bears-are-mean-but-they’ve-never-seen-Smiley. He-doesn’t-growl-or-make-you-sad-he-wouldn’t-ever-be-bad-Smiley. I-don’t-care-what-people-say-he-helps-me-get-through-the-day-Smiley.”
Tabitha quickly sat down and stared at her table.
“Thank you, Tabitha. That’s a lovely poem about a bear. And I liked the rhymes,” said Mrs. Brisbane.
I saw Tabitha reach into her pocket and pat her stuffed bear.
I also saw Mandy look over at Heidi and roll her eyes. I could even read her lips as she mouthed the word “baby.”
“Any volunteers?” asked the teacher. “Garth?”
Garth stood up to read his poem.
Roses are red,
Frogs are cool,
Now we’ve got one
Here at school.
He folded up his paper. “That’s it.”
Mrs. Brisbane reminded him that the poems were supposed to have six lines and Garth’s poem had four.
Personally, I was in shock.
“Frogs are cool”? What kind of a poem is that? After I helped him and A.J. with Mean Bean, Garth wrote “Frogs are cool”?
We didn’t have time for any more poems because the recess bell rang and my classmates raced to get their coats and gloves.
Tabitha took her time, waiting to see that no one was watching, and secretly stashed her bear in her pocket. Sayeh stayed behind, too, and approached her.
“I liked your poem. Is Smiley your bear’s name?” she asked.
Tabitha nodded, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t know how shy Sayeh was or how hard it was for her to come up and talk like that. But I knew.
“He’s nice,” said Sayeh. “Are you coming out to recess?”
Tabitha nodded again. Sayeh waited, but when Tabitha didn’t budge, she said, “See you outside,” and hurried to the cloakroom with her head down, looking embarrassed.
I’ve got to admit, Speak-Up-Sayeh is a favorite friend of mine. To see Tabitha treat her that way made me MAD-MAD-MAD. She was about as friendly as a frog!
The new girl waited until everyone else had left the room before rising to get her coat.
Later, after the students left for the day, Miss Loomis came into Room 26, all bundled up in her coat, hat and gloves.
“Hi, Sue. I’m ready when you are,” She walked over to Og’s cage. “How’s your star pupil doing?”
“Fine. He and Humphrey seem to get along all right. At least they don’t disturb each other,” said Mrs. Brisbane.
Don’t disturb each other? I was pretty disturbed when Og leaped at me!
Mrs. Brisbane put on her coat. “Let’s stop for coffee to warm us up on the way home.”
“Sounds great,” Miss Loomis answered. “I can’t thank you enough for giving me a ride.”
“What are friends for?” asked Mrs. Brisbane.
After they left, I felt as gloomy as the sky looked. Spinning my wheel warmed my fur up, but it didn’t make me feel any warmer inside. What are friends for? For fun and talking and helping and sharing. Right?
“Hey, Og!” I called out, peering through the bars of my cage at his glass house. “I hope you’ve been paying attention here in Room Twenty-six.”
I waited a few seconds to allow him to answer, which he didn’t, of course. “I hope you’ve seen what good friends the kids are. I mean, like Garth and A.J., the way they stick together. And Heidi and Gail, the way they like to giggle. Sayeh and Miranda are pals. Art and Richie, too. Wouldn’t it be nice to have fun friends like them?”
I didn’t actually expect an answer, of course, but this time I did get something: splashing. Splish-splash-splish. At least I knew Og was alive. Maybe he was even listening. I kept going. “Even if we can’t actually talk to each other, we could—I don’t know—have jumping contests.” Suddenly, I had all kinds of ideas. “We could sing together. Or make funny faces at each other. Maybe you could teach me how to go ‘Boing.’ ”
“Boing!”
I almost fainted. Was he answering me?
“Boing,” I said, though I didn’t sound much like a frog. “Boing to you, Og!”
“Boing-boing!” said Og.
“Yeah . . . boing!” I replied. My heart was thumping quite loudly. Were we actually having a conversation? “Uh . . . so what else is new?” I continued.
I waited, but there was no answer. “Og?” I called out. “Og, answer me!”
Silence. This was one frustrating frog. I tried again, but there were no more boings. Not even a splash. The room was silent as a tomb. That’s about as quiet as it can get.
Somehow, it felt even worse to think that Og tried to talk to me and gave up. Still, Sayeh had learned a brand-new language when she came to this country. Maybe Og and I could learn to understand each other. I returned to my wheel and started spinning as fast as I could. I spun until it was almost dark.
At last, the door swung open and the lights came on.
“I have arrived!” Aldo announced, waving his broom. “No applause, please.”
“HELLO-HELLO-HELLO!” I shouted. I was never so glad to see anybody in my life.
Aldo hurried toward my cage, rubbing his arms.
“Hey, it’s cold in here. They turn the heat down at night to save money, but it’s freezing outside. And it’s almost freezing in here,” said Aldo. He turned to Og’s cage. “Hey, Og, how’s the world treating you?”
When Og didn’t answer him, Aldo turned back to me. “He’s the strong, silent type, I guess. Say, Humph, old pal, I’ve been thinking. About that idea of getting a better job, you know? Maria thinks I should go back to school.”
I tried to imagine Aldo sitting at a little table all day with Miranda, Richie and Seth. I didn’t think his legs would fit.
“I could go to college during the day and still work here at night.”
College! I hoped they had bigger chairs there.
Aldo pulled up a chair so we were practically whisker-to-whisker. “See, I went to college for a year. When my dad died, I quit because I needed to make money. I thought I’d go back, but I never did.”
“It’s never too late,” I squeaked.
Aldo shook his head. “I’m not a kid anymore.” He reached in his pocket. “Maria got me this application for City College, but I don’t know.”
City College! That’s where Natalie the babysitter went! She said that’s where people go to become doctors and lawyers and teachers. That’s where people go to study things like psychology and get good jobs.
“GO-GO-GO!” I said, hopping up and down.
“Maria thinks I’m smart enough,” said Aldo. “I just don’t know if I can handle all that studying.” He sighed and rose from his chair.
“Guess I’d better get this room cleaned or I won’t have a job at all.” Aldo tucked the application back in his pocket. “First, I’m going to go turn up the heat.”
Good old Aldo. He was a thoughtful guy. A
nd a smart guy, too. I hoped his wife could talk him into going back to school.
I wasn’t sure I could do it all by myself. And I was pretty sure Og wouldn’t be any help at all.
“One of the most beautiful qualities of true friendship is to understand and to be understood.”
Seneca, Roman playwright
6
Crabby Abby
The next morning, Kirk hurried from the cloakroom and stuck a big piece of paper on my cage. It almost blocked my view of Og, which was not a bad thing.
Once the other students settled in their seats, they started giggling and pointing, led by Gail, of course. Mrs. Brisbane looked puzzled until she glanced over at my cage. The sign read, HELP! I’M BEING HELD PRISONER IN ROOM 26!
“And who is responsible for this, as if I didn’t know?” she asked.
Kirk rose and took a bow as everyone applauded. I joined in, though I was the only one who knew I could never be a prisoner with my lock-that-doesn’t-lock.
“Let’s all sit down now,” said Mrs. Brisbane. “And get back to poetry.”
Somebody made a very, very rude noise and Mrs. Brisbane did not like that one little bit. “I-Heard-That-Kirk. And I don’t ever want to hear it again.”
During the rest of the week, we heard a lot more animal poems. Most of them were about frogs. One was about a dog (Miranda’s). Sayeh wrote about a beautiful bird called a dove. (“Dove” rhymes with “love.”)
Nobody wrote about hamsters.
Aldo didn’t mention City College again. And Tabitha still didn’t talk to anybody except Smiley.
I was looking forward to a change of scenery by the end of the week. A relaxing getaway to one of my classmates’ cozy homes. One with plenty of heat and no frogs.
On Friday, Mrs. Brisbane said, “I can’t remember. Who asked me about taking Humphrey home this weekend?” Miranda’s hand shot up.
“Yes, Miranda. I got the note from your father. That will be fine.”
Friendship According to Humphrey Page 4
