Secrets According to Humphrey

Home > Childrens > Secrets According to Humphrey > Page 8
Secrets According to Humphrey Page 8

by Betty G. Birney


  Jealousy is not a good feeling.

  On the other paw, Ms. Mac’s class deserved to have a classroom pet to teach them about other species and taking care of pets and, well, life.

  “I promise, my feelings won’t be hurt,” I squeaked.

  I had my toes crossed, because I wasn’t sure that was completely true. Again.

  “Don’t tell anyone I said it, but you’re the best, Humphrey,” Ms. Mac whispered.

  I know she meant it.

  HUMPHREY’S TOP SECRET SCRIBBLES

  I have a little secret that I mustn’t ever tell,

  But I love Ms. Mac completely—and her lovely smell!

  11

  Secret Whispers

  Without all the waving, wiggling, nodding and made-up words from the secret clubs, the work on the Egyptian projects went a lot better.

  On Tuesday, Felipe, Tall-Paul and Small-Paul shared their senet game with the class. It was a rainy day, so my friends stayed inside during recess and took turns playing it.

  Phoebe and Kelsey brought in their set of hieroglyphics and the Scribes used some of the symbols for the alphabet they were creating.

  The only problem I could see was Joey. He was constantly reading The Jungle Book when he was supposed to be doing schoolwork.

  Still, Mrs. Brisbane never said a word.

  “Which story do you like best so far?” Thomas asked Joey before class started

  “Ummm.” Joey thought for a minute. “Mowgli living with the wolves, I guess.”

  “Me too,” Thomas said. “But wait until you get to the part about the tiger!”

  That must be some book. I’ll have to get my paws on it someday.

  “I didn’t know a lot of the words,” Joey said. “But I figured them out by the story.”

  Mrs. Brisbane joined the conversation. “It’s always fun to talk about a book you liked with someone else who’s read it,” she said.

  Thomas nodded. “We should decide what book we’re both going to read next so we can talk about it afterward.”

  “Like a book club,” Mrs. Brisbane said.

  “What’s that?” Joey asked.

  Mrs. Brisbane explained that it’s a club where all the people read the same book and then get together to talk about what they liked and didn’t like and answer questions.

  “That sounds great!” Thomas said.

  “We could start a book club right here in Room Twenty-six. We could meet during lunch,” Mrs. Brisbane suggested.

  “I thought there weren’t going to be any more clubs in here,” Thomas said.

  Mrs. Brisbane smiled. “No more secret clubs, Thomas. This will be a club anyone can join.”

  “Even me?” I squeaked.

  “Even Humphrey and Og?” Joey asked.

  “Well, they could . . . if they could read,” our teacher answered.

  It’s unsqueakably frustrating to me that nobody knows that I can read.

  I may not know all the words, like Joey, but I can read just fine!

  (I’m still not sure about Og, though.)

  It was a BUSY-BUSY-BUSY morning in Room 26. First, Mrs. Brisbane told my classmates to put the finishing touches on their projects.

  There was a lot of last-minute whispering as everyone glued and pasted and drew.

  After lunch, the groups presented their finished Egyptian projects. Mrs. Brisbane was so proud of their work, she invited Mr. Morales and Mr. Fitch to join us. Mr. Morales even wore a tie with little pyramids on it!

  The Traders unveiled their boat first. It was long and tall with a huge sail, and the ends of the boat curved up. There were all kinds of interesting things on the boat, such as wood, gold, precious oils and even monkeys. Tall-Paul explained what each thing was and Felipe said where it came from. The places had wonderful names!

  All these things would be traded in an open marketplace.

  Then Holly and Harry acted out how the traders argued over the price.

  Harry said something like, “I will give you a copper jar for that cloth.”

  Then Holly folded her arms across her chest, shook her head and said, “No way. Five copper jars.” She held up five fingers.

  No matter what Harry said, Holly would shake her head and say, “No.”

  Harry got so frustrated, he finally said, “Holly, you’re supposed to come down in what you asked! We’re supposed to meet in the middle.”

  “Do not insult me! This cloth is made of the finest wool! Five copper jars or nothing!” Holly replied.

  She was so good, I almost believed she was a trader in ancient Egypt.

  Harry didn’t know what to do.

  “Hurry-Up-Harry,” Tall-Paul said in a loud whisper.

  Poor Harry gave in and said, “Okay, five copper jars. But that wasn’t fair!”

  Everybody applauded when they finished.

  “You all did a great job,” Mr. Morales said. “And Holly, you’re quite a performer. Are you heading for Hollywood?”

  “Any day now,” Holly said. “You’ll see me on TV. Maybe I’ll have my own show.”

  My friends all laughed and Holly laughed, too.

  The Scribes were next. First, they passed around a piece of papyrus they’d made so everyone could see it (except Og and me).

  “Papyrus was made from reeds, which were chopped, peeled and then sliced,” Phoebe explained.

  “Then they were pounded into sheets,” Cassie explained.

  Thomas spoke next. “It was really expensive, so only important things were written down. So I guess teachers didn’t give a lot of homework.”

  Everybody laughed, including Mrs. Brisbane.

  “I just made the last part up,” Thomas said.

  While Phoebe passed out copies of their hieroglyphics to everyone (except Og and me) and wrote a secret message on the board, Daniel explained that at first, each picture stood for a word.

  “Later, symbols began to stand for sounds instead,” he said.

  Phoebe’s writing didn’t look like any message I’d seen before, with pictures of eyes and shapes and swirly things.

  Slow-Down-Simon, who was fast at everything, solved it first. “‘Being a scribe is the best job in Egypt,’” he shouted.

  For a prize, he got his own piece of papyrus.

  Mr. Morales praised the Scribes and asked if he could keep the hieroglyphics to show his children. Of course, they said yes. Mr. Morales is the Most Important Person at Longfellow School.

  I expected Sophie, Nicole, Small-Paul and Just-Joey to show off the animal jars they’d been making. But the Artists had an unsqueakably wonderful surprise in store for us.

  “We found a book in the library showing the treasures of King Tut’s Tomb, so we decided to make some of the other things found there,” Small-Paul explained. “There were so many wonderful things.”

  Mr. Fitch nodded. “Those were the first words of the man who opened King Tut’s tomb. Someone called to him and asked if he saw anything. And he replied, ‘Yes, wonderful things.’”

  “The pyramids were tombs. These objects were put into the tombs to be used in the next life,” Joey said. “So there were useful things, as well as toys and games.”

  Our Artists had made many wonderful things. A golden chair, a board game, a chest covered in jewels. I don’t suppose they were real jewels but they looked beautiful.

  They also made a golden bird, the animal jars and, finally, a golden head of King Tut!

  I don’t know where they got the gold paint, but they used a lot of it.

  The Builders were the last to unveil their project—the Great Pyramid of Giza! It looked perfect and they painted it to look like old stone.

  But the best part was it actually opened up (it was in two pieces), and inside they’d drawn a map of the chambers.

  They to
ld us so many unsqueakably amazing facts about the pyramid. I wish I’d been able to get out my notebook and write them down, but I don’t want my friends to find my secret scribblings.

  I do remember that it took millions of huge blocks of stone, thousands of men and probably ten years to build it. No one is sure exactly how they managed to do it!

  Mr. Morales gave a little speech about how proud he was to be at a school with such hardworking students, and Mr. Fitch reminded everyone there were lots of books about Egypt in the library.

  After they left, Mrs. Brisbane let the students wander around and look closely at each project.

  After school, Mrs. Wright came in again to talk to Mrs. Brisbane.

  I shivered a little when I saw the silver whistle. I wonder if she wears it when she sleeps or takes a bath.

  The thought of taking a bath—or getting wet at all—made me quiver, so I concentrated on what she was saying.

  “I’m glad to see your students are behaving normally again,” she said. “Good work. But I have something else to discuss with you.”

  “Very well,” Mrs. Brisbane said.

  “As you know, I’m chairman of the rules committee here,” Mrs. Wright began.

  Mrs. Brisbane nodded.

  “I think I should have been consulted about your upcoming event,” Mrs. Wright continued. “There are several issues that concern me.”

  “Listen closely, Og! We might find out who’s leaving,” I squeaked.

  Og quietly splashed in his tank.

  “First, all visitors must have passes in advance and I’d like a complete list of who will be here,” Mrs. Wright said.

  Mrs. Brisbane nodded again.

  “And I’ve heard that there will be newspaper and TV reporters and photographers here. I’m afraid that’s a huge problem,” Mrs. Wright said.

  “But it’s such a wonderful story,” Mrs. Brisbane said.

  “We’d have to have a release form signed by parents of each and every student in your class,” Mrs. Wright said. “No exceptions.”

  Mrs. Brisbane nodded. “Yes, I already have them. And the list of people coming.”

  She walked to her desk and picked up a folder. “Here,” she said. “You can make copies.”

  Mrs. Wright seemed surprised. “Oh. Well.”

  She carefully looked at each form, which took a while. “They seem to be in order. But I also heard you’ll have balloons,” she said.

  “Yes,” Mrs. Brisbane said. “And flowers and maybe even some gifts.”

  Mrs. Wright frowned. “I’m not sure you can have balloons and flowers. There are allergies and, well, other things.”

  “I’m sure they’ll be fine. But if you find anything in the rules that says I can’t have them, please let me know,” Mrs. Brisbane replied.

  By the little smile on her face, I could tell that Mrs. Brisbane already knew those things weren’t against the rules.

  I was happy when they both finally left for the day because I had a Plan for how I’d spend the evening.

  I knew I had time before Aldo came in to clean, so I got out my notebook and pencil and added some new thoughts to the secret about a student leaving Room 26.

  - Question: Why is Mrs. Brisbane happy about that? Because I am NOT-NOT-NOT.

  - Today, Holly said she might go to Hollywood and have her own television show. She said, “Any day now.” She is a good actress. Now, that would be a news story!

  “Oh, no! Holly is leaving Room Twenty-six!” I said.

  I jiggled my lock and raced over to Og’s tank, notebook in paw.

  “It’s Holly that’s leaving! I figured it out,” I squeaked.

  Then I read him what I wrote in my notebook.

  “BOING-BOING-BOING-BOING!” Og jumped up and down.

  I guess he liked Holly as much as I did.

  “She’s always trying to help her friends,” I said. “Sometimes she goes overboard, but at least she tries! And sometimes when she cries, I want to hug her.”

  “BOING!” Og agreed.

  “Of course, it will be nice to say we know a famous actress but . . .” I couldn’t finish the sentence. I guess I felt a little bit like crying myself, but I don’t know how!

  I was so busy feeling sad, I didn’t notice that it was dark outside.

  Suddenly, I heard the THUMP-THUMP-THUMP of Aldo’s cleaning cart. Then the RATTLE-RATTLE-RATTLE as he turned the doorknob.

  “Eeek!” As I raced back to my cage, my notebook flew out of my paws and slid across the table.

  Dropping my notebook was a bad thing, but getting caught outside of my cage could be worse. I hoped I could get it later, so I pulled the cage door behind me, just as the lights came on.

  “Never fear, ’cause Aldo’s here!” his voice boomed out.

  What a close call! My heart was pounding.

  At least Aldo hadn’t caught me out of my cage and discovered my secret. He would fix my lock-that-doesn’t-lock and I’d be stuck in my cage forever!

  I looked to see where my notebook ended up and it wasn’t on the table! It was on the floor, near the leg of one of the tables. The notebook that’s my biggest secret!

  “Og! My notebook’s on the floor!” I squeaked at the top of my small lungs.

  “SCREEE!” Og yelled. That’s the sound he makes when he thinks there’s real danger.

  There was danger, all right, but there wasn’t one thing I could do except hope that Aldo wouldn’t notice the notebook. Or, if he did, that he would at least put it somewhere I could get it after he left.

  However, Aldo is a GREAT-GREAT-GREAT cleaner, and he doesn’t leave much behind.

  I watched his every move. He dusted, he picked up trash. Then he got out his big broom—the one he can actually balance on one finger—and began to sweep.

  My tail was twitching as the broom got closer and closer to my little notebook.

  “Fellows, you know that big news I’ve been talking about?” he said. “Well, tonight I might tell you.”

  Aldo looked over at Og and me but he kept on sweeping. He didn’t even notice that the big broom covered my little notebook as he swept everything on the floor into a big pile.

  “Maria said it’s okay to tell everybody tomorrow, but I can’t hold it in another minute,” he said.

  He got his big dustpan from the cart and swept the pile of trash—and my notebook—right into it.

  “You see, we’re not having a baby,” he said. “We’re having two babies. Twins!”

  “Eeek!” I squeaked.

  I wasn’t squeaking about the twins. I was squeaking because he dumped the trash into the plastic bag in the big bin on his cart.

  “BOING-BOING-BOING!” Og twanged excitedly.

  Aldo was so wrapped up in thinking about the twins, he never even noticed!

  I felt as if my heart sank to the bottom of my toes.

  But I managed to squeak out, “Congratulations, Aldo! That’s wonderful news.”

  “I need to finish college fast so I can get a teaching job,” he continued. “I’ll have a lot of mouths to feed.”

  He mopped the floor but all I could think of was that bag of trash.

  Finally, it was time for him to eat his dinner, which he always did in Room 26.

  As he munched on his sandwich, Aldo talked happily about the twins and becoming a dad. I tried to listen, but my mind was on my notebook.

  “I know it’s not easy to be a dad,” he said. “But what’s it like to be a double dad?”

  I had no idea!

  Just then, Aldo’s phone rang.

  “Maria!” he answered with a smile. Then suddenly he wasn’t smiling.

  “I’ll be right there,” he said. “I’ll just drop off my cart in my room and be there right away. Stay calm!”

  Aldo didn
’t seem very calm.

  “Maria’s got a flat tire,” he said. “I’ve got to go help her.”

  In a flash, Aldo tied up the bag of trash and pushed the cart out of the room.

  “See you tomorrow!” he said.

  I wasn’t thinking about tomorrow.

  I was thinking about tonight . . . and how I could get my notebook back.

  There would be no more secret scribbling until I did.

  12

  Secret Mission

  As soon as Aldo’s car pulled out of the parking lot, I opened the lock-that-doesn’t-lock and hurried over to squeak to Og.

  “I’m REALLY-REALLY-REALLY sorry about Maria’s flat tire,” I said. “But at least I know where to find the cart and the bag with my notebook.”

  “BOING-BOING-BOING!” Og hopped up and down.

  I was already racing across the table. “Wish me luck!”

  “BOING-BOING!” Og answered.

  I slid down the leg of our table, scampered across the room and squeezed under the door.

  I scurried down the hall, past more and more classrooms. Even though I’d never been in Aldo’s room, I knew where it was.

  After passing Mr. Morales’s office, I turned the next corner, raced past a drinking fountain and saw a door with a sign on it: Custodian.

  I hunkered down and slid under the door—OOF!

  It was dark inside and there weren’t any windows.

  There were some glowing lights along the wall where things were plugged in, such as a telephone and a huge flashlight.

  Although I couldn’t see much, I knew I was in the right place because I could smell Aldo’s cart.

  As a hamster, I have a wonderful sense of smell. My human friends would be surprised to know that each of them has a different smell. I can tell who’s standing by my cage with my eyes closed!

  I moved forward and there it was—Aldo’s cart with the trash bag from Room 26!

  I moved closer and gave it a good sniff.

  Ah, yes! There was the unmistakable odor of paint and glue.

  The Artists had used a lot of paint on their treasures. And the Builders had used a lot of glue on the pyramid.

 

‹ Prev