Summer According to Humphrey

by Betty G. Birney

  “You can do it!” I said, and I believed it, too.

  When we had reached the Nature Center, Sayeh placed me next to an empty spot on the table. The spot where Og’s tank usually sat. I’d been all set to tell him about Sayeh’s dilemma and he wasn’t there! Besides, his tank was usually between my cage and Jake the Snake, and not having him there made me just a little jittery. I hoped Jake had been fed that morning.

  Sayeh moved on and found a place to sit. Counselor Katie was already in the room, setting up a small projector.

  “I think you’ll be interested in what I’ve got for today, Sayeh,” Katie said.

  I thought I’d be interested, too, as long as it didn’t involve snakes.

  A few more campers trickled in. I climbed up to the top of my cage to see if Og was coming. Just as I was feeling quite worried, Brad, from the Blue Jays’ cabin, entered, carrying Og’s tank.

  “HI-HI-HI!” I squeaked as Brad plunked the tank down on the table.

  “BOING!” Og replied.

  “Dumb frog,” Brad muttered.

  I was stunned. Og . . . a dumb frog? Brad clearly didn’t know what he was talking about.

  “He doesn’t even say ribbit like a normal frog,” he complained.

  I scampered down to the bottom of my cage and looked up at Brad. “Now see here,” I squeaked. “That’s because he’s not an ordinary frog. He’s a very special frog with a very special sound!”

  I wished he could have heard more than just “SQUEAK-SQUEAK-SQUEAK.”

  Brad wasn’t paying a bit of attention to me. He was checking out the Nature Center.

  “Welcome, Brad,” Katie greeted him. “You picked a great day to come.”

  “Is this the whole thing?” he asked. “A frog, a bird, a hamster and a plain old snake? My other camp practically had a whole zoo in theirs,” he said. “They had a hawk and . . . a raccoon and a boa constrictor!”

  Katie kept smiling.

  “We try to keep the animals in the wild as much as possible,” she explained. “Of course, Humphrey and Og are pets. Some of the workers found Jake under some boards. And Lovey here was a rescue. You’ll learn more about her today. Just take a seat.”

  Brad sat down next to Gail, who was busily writing a letter. She might as well have been at her desk in Room 26. I guess she would have been happier in Room 26.

  When the session began, Katie explained that while she was hiking one day, she found Lovey lying out in the woods. It was obvious that her wing was broken.

  Then she dimmed the lights and started showing slides. I must say, seeing the lovely Lovey on the ground with one wing just hanging limply was a sad, sad sight. There were even a few drops of—gulp—blood.

  “Look at this, Og!” I rushed to get a better view of the screen.

  Katie said that it’s not a good idea to get close to a wild bird who might be injured. But in this case, it was obvious that the dove was in trouble. When she approached slowly and the bird didn’t fight her, she scooped it up with a net and put it in a box. She’d read that mourning doves panic in a cage with bars, which is a little strange to me, since I think the bars on my cage give me wonderful protection from dogs and cats and other scary things.

  The next slide showed Katie examining the broken wing with her friend Dr. Singleton at the local Wildlife Refuge. He was a veterinarian who specializes in birds. It made me think of Dr. Drew, who helped me and helped my hamster friend Winky find a new home with one of my friends from Room 26.

  The two of them washed the wing and put medicine on it. Then they VERY-VERY-VERY carefully taped the wing back into its original position.

  “Og, isn’t Lovey very brave?” I squeaked to my neighbor, who took a long, noisy dive into the water in his tank. I could tell he was as impressed as I was.

  They gave Lovey food and water and let her rest.

  Katie turned off the projector and turned the lights up again. The rain was heavier now, pounding on the roof of the Nature Center.

  “Lovey’s wing is just about healed now,” she told the campers. “If things go well, before you go home, we’ll be able to free her back into the wild. Anyone who’d like to be part of Lovey’s release, let me know.”

  “ME-ME-ME!” I squeaked. But there was so much talking, no one could hear my hamsterish squeaks. In fact, all the campers gathered around Katie, begging to be part of the release.

  I looked over at Lovey in her crate. She didn’t look like anything was broken anymore. She looked strong and proud.

  “Did you hear that, Lovey?” I squeaked at the top of my lungs.

  I know birds can’t smile, but the look on Lovey’s face was as close as a bird could come to a big, fat grin. I think I was smiling a little bit, too, as the other campers left the Nature Center, chattering away.

  Brad stayed seated with his arms folded. How could he not think that would be exciting? Ooh, he made my whiskers twitch!

  And Gail was still writing nonstop. She didn’t even look up.

  Ms. Mac went over to talk to her. “You certainly are taking a lot of notes,” she told Gail.

  Gail looked up. “Oh, I’m finishing a letter to Heidi. I write her and my parents every day so they know everything that’s going on at camp.”

  Ms. Mac looked kind of serious. Then she said, “Why not put away the pen and paper for a little while? Since it’s raining, arts and crafts would be a good choice for your next session—you like that, don’t you?”

  Gail hesitated before folding up her paper. “Yes,” she said.

  “Come on,” Ms. Mac said. “I’ll walk you there.”

  Is it any wonder I LOVE-LOVE-LOVE Ms. Mac?

  Then I saw Brad standing and staring at Lovey. Katie came over to him.

  “Would you like to help with her release?” she asked Brad.

  The boy shrugged. “It doesn’t seem like such a big deal,” he said. “At my other camp, we had a ropes course. Now that was cool.”

  Katie gave him a curious look. “It sounds great. But this is something different. We could use your help. What was the name of that other camp you went to?”

  “White Pines,” Brad said in a husky voice. “It was a lot bigger than this.”

  “Why did you come here?” Katie asked, which was exactly what I was wondering.

  “My folks thought this would be a good change,” Brad muttered.

  Katie kept on smiling. “Sometimes at a smaller camp you can make more friends. I’ll be sure to let you know when we’re going to release Lovey,” she said.

  Brad didn’t say anything for a while. He just stared at Lovey.

  “Whatever,” he said.

  NOTE TO SELF: Humans can be very kind and caring to birds, hamsters and other small creatures. Most humans.

  11

  The Thing Beneath the Floor

  Whatever! He said whatever!” I screeched to Og when all of the campers and counselors had left the Nature Center and gone to lunch. I had to talk extra loud because of the rain.

  “BOING-BOING,” Og responded.

  “What’s so great about a ropes course?” I added, though I wouldn’t mind some ropes to climb on in my cage.

  Og splashed briskly, agreeing with me, I think.

  I hopped on my wheel to calm myself down.

  “He’s always bragging about that other camp,” I complained out loud. “His name should be Bragging Brad. And bragging is bad.”

  “BOING!” Og twanged, so I knew he was listening. Maybe Lovey was listening, too, because she made a little noise in her throat, “Woo-oo-oo-oo.” Jake stuck his tongue out, which is what I wanted to do to Bragging Brad. However, I am a very polite hamster.

  I was still trying to cool off when the next group of campers began to gather. They were dripping wet, but they didn’t seem to mind.

  While Gail and Brad and Sayeh weren’t having as much fun as they should have been, most of the other campers were. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Garth so happy before. While the campers from the other cabins
worked hard on their camping skills and athletic contests, Garth and his fellow Bobwhites seemed to have no worries at all.

  Later that evening, Aldo brought Og and me into the dining hall. It was still raining, but the showers were gentler now and Aldo threw a sweatshirt over my cage to keep me dry.

  “The kids are pretty unhappy about the rain,” he told us. “They hate to miss the evening campfire. But they’re in for a big surprise.”

  “WHAT-WHAT-WHAT?” I asked, hoping it was the good kind of surprise.

  “Welcome to the Happy Hollow Comedy Club,” he said, gesturing toward the tables. It looked like the regular dining room to me, without the food. He set my cage and Og’s tank on a table near the stage. “I know you like to be in the middle of the action, so enjoy yourself.”

  It was noisy inside while the campers roamed around, laughing, joking, dancing and talking in unsqueakably loud voices. A.J. stopped to say hello to me. At least his voice was loud enough to hear over the commotion.

  “How’s it going, Humphrey Dumpty?” he asked.

  “FINE!” I squeaked at the top of my lungs.

  Suddenly, Garth appeared with A.J.’s brother, Ty, at his side.

  “Hey, Humphrey!” Garth said, leaning in close to see me.

  “I saw you canoeing today,” A.J. told Ty. “You’re going to have to work a lot harder if you want to beat the Blue Jays.”

  Ty shrugged but Garth turned to face his best friend from Room 26.

  “Whoa,” Garth said. “We’ve already beaten the Blue Jays. You just don’t know it yet.”

  A.J. looked puzzled. “You’re crazy!”

  “Not.” Garth smiled mysteriously. “In fact, we can’t lose. Can we, Ty?”

  Ty grinned. “No way can you beat us.”

  Just then Super-Sam strolled by.

  “Yo, Garth. Yo, Ty. Bobwhites rule!” He high-fived Garth and Ty and moved on.

  A.J. shook his head. “Sam’s good, but he’s not perfect,” he said.

  “Okay,” Garth replied. “Just remember that when you’re in your bunk and we’re sleeping out at Haunted Hollow.”

  Garth and Ty turned to each other and let out a huge “owoooo,” which truthfully set my fur on edge a little.

  And then it happened. Without warning, Mrs. Wright gave an earsplitting blast on her whistle. I’d be unsqueakably happy if she’d lose that thing, but I have to admit it worked. Soon the campers were sitting down and were even fairly quiet as everyone’s attention was directed to the stage.

  “Welcome to the Happy Hollow Comedy Club,” Hap announced. “Let the skits begin!”

  As I said, I had a good view of the stage, and what I saw was quite unexpected. All of the counselors, from Ms. Mac and Katie to Aldo and even Maria, put on a series of little plays—they called them “skits”—that were extremely silly and VERY-VERY-VERY funny! One was about chasing a bear in the woods and one was about putting up a tent.

  I especially remember the point where they all put on rabbit ears and sang “Little Bunny Foo Foo.” I’m not sure whether it was the song or the sight of Aldo with his big mustache and floppy bunny ears that made me laugh, but I almost fell off my tree branch!

  Og splashed around, which almost always means he’s having a good time.

  At the end of the show, Mrs. Wright took the stage. I braced myself for the whistle, but instead she led us all in singing that song about finding a peanut, which made me wish I had a yummy peanut hidden in my bedding. But I didn’t.

  When it was all over, Ms. Mac said that next time, all of us (she pointed to us campers in the audience) would put on the show, so we’d better get thinking!

  Goodness, I couldn’t think of any funny songs or skits, but I was going to try.

  I spent that night in the Robins’ Nest again. It was pretty quiet, even before lights-out. Gail was busily trying to finish a long letter to Heidi. Miranda and the other girls were sharing a magazine and talking about hairstyles.

  “Come on, Gail. Let’s try this hairstyle on you,” Miranda said in a very encouraging voice.

  “In a minute,” Gail said, still writing. “I made this friendship bracelet in arts and crafts and I want to send it to Heidi.” I saw the other Robins roll their eyes and I didn’t blame them.

  The rain had finally stopped, and once the lights were out for the night, I had a lot to think about. For one thing, I was trying to figure out what was wrong with Brad. Camp Happy Hollow seemed like a wonderful place to me, but to him, the pool was too small, the dining room was too big and the cabins were too far. He spent so much time thinking about his old camp, I’m not sure he even noticed what was going on at his new camp.

  Of course, this was my first time at camp, so I didn’t have anything to compare it with.

  Then there was Gail. Her friends were getting a little tired of hearing that “I’ll bet Heidi would love archery” or “I’m going to show Heidi how to tie a lanyard.” She must have had a sore paw from writing letters all the time. If she’d stop writing for a day, she’d see what a fun place camp could be.

  I must admit, every time she mentioned Heidi, I had a kind of flip-flop feeling inside because it made me think of all the kids in Room 26 that I missed, as well as Mrs. Brisbane, Mr. Brisbane and Principal Morales! I missed the library, the recess bell and even vocabulary quizzes.

  But there were so many new things to see and do at Camp Happy Hollow, I tried to think about them instead. I wished Brad and Gail could, too.

  It was clear I wasn’t going to get a lot of sleep that night. Besides trying to come up with a plan to help Brad and Gail, there was that noise again.

  SKITTER-SKITTER-SKITTER.

  SCRITCH-SCRITCH-SCRITCH.

  In the past, those scratching noises had been somewhere in the background. But that night, they were much louder, which meant that whoever or whatever was making them was CLOSE-CLOSE-CLOSE.

  They sounded like they were coming from directly under my cage!

  In a way, I was glad the girls didn’t hear them. They were deep in sleep.

  At least the sounds were coming from under the cabin and not inside the cabin. I paced back and forth in my cage until my curiosity got the best of me. I reminded myself that I’d gone on dangerous explorations before. So, taking a deep breath, I carefully opened the lock-that-doesn’t-lock, tiptoed out to the edge of the table and looked down. Like most creatures, especially nocturnal ones like me, I can see quite well in the darkness and what I saw were wide gaps in between the wooden floorboards.

  SKITTER-SKITTER-SKITTER.

  SCRITCH-SCRITCH-SCRITCH.

  The sounds continued. Since none of the girls stirred when I got out of the cage, I took the plunge. I slid down the leg of the table to the floor. Then I found the widest possible gap and bent down to see what was under the cabin.

  There was dirt down there—nice dry dirt. There was a little beam of light from the outdoor lights that helped me see the skitterer: a small furry creature digging in the dirt. It was a hamster! No, its ears were bigger than mine and its fur was not nearly as golden and fluffy. It wasn’t a hamster, but something very hamsterish. Something that reminded me of my days at Pet-O-Rama, where I lived until the day Ms. Mac found me.

  It was a mouse! A brown mouse, digging furiously in the dirt.

  I was afraid of waking the Robins up, but I managed to venture the tiniest possible “squeak!” to get the mouse’s attention.

  Its head jerked upward so we were looking eye to eye. It froze for a moment and then answered with an “eeek!”

  “Quiet, Humphrey,” Kayla mumbled sleepily.

  Startled, the mouse skittered away and was quickly out of sight.

  I was sorry. It looked like a friendly mouse, and a lot livelier than some of my former neighbors at Pet-O-Rama. They mostly napped in their cages and didn’t even bother to skitter or scritch.

  I was even sorrier when I was ready to get back to my cage and I realized that there was no way to get back to the top of the table
!

  Here, there were no blinds. There was no cord.

  I was stuck.

  It was like standing in a canyon, looking up at a mountaintop with no way to get there.

  I thought and thought and thought some more, but there was nothing around that would help me climb that mountain.

  In desperation, I crawled into Miranda’s baseball cap, which she’d left on the floor near her bunk.

  It was a LONG-LONG-LONG wait until morning. There was nothing to do but WORRY-WORRY-WORRY.

  In the past, whenever I was found outside of my cage, some human got in trouble for leaving my door open. That bothered me, because the only creature responsible for my being out of my cage was—well—me.

  The next morning, when the deafening wake-up music blared away, I braced myself.

  Somebody was going to be in trouble, and I only wished it would be me.

  So no one was more surprised than I was when the girls rolled out of their beds and Lindsey scooped up the hat I was in. “Miranda, you’d better be more careful about leaving things around,” she cautioned.

  Then she set the cap on the table right next to my cage and hurried off to the bathrooms. (Which for some reason they called “latrines.”)

  I was stunned when I saw the girls all hurrying outside.

  Without another thought, I scampered out of the hat, raced to the door of my cage, flung it open and hurried inside. I quickly pulled the door behind me and that was that. My entire night of paw-biting worry was a complete waste of time because no one even noticed I was out of my cage!

  NOTE TO SELF: Don’t worry so much over things that might NEVER-NEVER-NEVER happen.

  12

  A Sticker-y Situation

  It was a sunny day and, as usual, the Robins dropped me off in the rec room, where I met up with Og. I waited there until Katie and Ms. Mac took us to the Nature Center.

  While the campers and counselors ate the yummy breakfast Maria and her assistants prepared (oh, the smells!), I told Og about seeing the mouse under the floorboards.

  “BOING! BOING-BOING-BOING!” he repeated excitedly.

  I guess he hadn’t seen a mouse before.