School Days According to Humphrey (6 page)

I was finishing a new poem in my notebook as the first bell rang the next morning and the strange students came streaming back into Room 26.

I was a little sleepy after my night of heart-pounding adventure, so I wasn't paying too much attention until a perky voice loudly said, “Wait right there, Rosie! I'll get your backpack for you!”

It was Helpful-Holly and she was doing a very good job of being Rolling-Rosie's personal assistant.

“That's okay, Holly,” Rosie answered. “I can handle it.”

Rosie did handle her backpack very well, moving it from the back of her wheelchair to the floor next to her table.

“I'll push you in,” Holly said.

“I can do it myself,” Rosie replied.

Holly suddenly didn't look very happy. “I'm supposed to help you,” she said.

Rosie gave her a friendly smile. “Thanks, Holly. If I need help, I'll let you know.”

“Okay,” Holly said. But she sounded REALLY-REALLY-REALLY disappointed.

I was sorry for Holly because she was only trying to help. But I was glad to see that Rosie was so good at taking care of herself.

After she took attendance, Mrs. Brisbane did something pretty surprising. (But then, she's always surprising me.)

“Class,” she said. “I asked you to bring in a list of three interesting facts about yourself in your summer box, remember?”

Most of the students nodded.

I didn't nod because once again, nobody told
me
to bring in a list.

“Your answers were really interesting, so I've taken them and made a little get-to-know-you quiz,” she continued. “We're going to take half an hour for you to ask each other questions and find out the answers. I've printed out sheets with the questions and places for your answers.”

After she gave them more instructions, the room got pretty noisy. While the students talked and wrote, Mrs. Brisbane took snapshots of each one—although she forgot to take pictures of Og and me. It was too confusing to hear what everyone said, so I tried to think of three interesting facts about me.

Hamsters are pretty fascinating, I guess, because it was hard to narrow my list down to three. Here's what I came up with:

1. I am golden. (Which is true, because I'm a Golden Hamster. Last year, I wouldn't have been the only golden student in class because Miranda Golden—or Golden-Miranda as I called her—was in the room.)

2. I have a friend named Og. He is not golden. He is green.

3. I have a lock-that-doesn't-lock. (Which is true, but I wouldn't put that on a list because it's a secret.)

4. I have a notebook hidden in my cage. (See above.)

5. I was brought to Room 26 by Ms. Mac. (Whom I love.)

6. I am afraid of loud noises such as whistles.

7. I wish humans could understand me.

8. I miss my old friends.

9. You are all making so much noise I can't hear myself think!

I was still working on my list in my head when Mrs. Brisbane announced it was time for the students to return to their seats. Then she asked questions from the sheets one by one and the students shared the answers they had written down. I wished I could write the answers in my notebook as well, but I didn't dare get it out because someone might see me and find out about it.

“Listen carefully, Og!” I squeaked to my neighbor.

Here are a few things I remember:

While the students took turns reading for Mrs. Brisbane, my mind drifted to the facts I'd heard.

Golden Pines was a beautiful name for Paul G.'s old school. If they had golden trees, maybe they had Golden Hamsters like me there.

I worried about Thomas's shark teeth. I hoped he didn't have the sharks to go with them, as I've seen pictures of them and they are unsqueakably scary creatures.

I also hoped Be-Careful-Kelsey was careful when she climbed trees. She'd already broken her arm
and
her leg.

When the bell rang for recess, the students raced out of the room.

“I'll hold the door for you, Rosie!” Holly said as she raced across the room.

“Okay,” Rosie answered as she rolled along next to her.

Thomas was just about through the door when Mrs. Brisbane stopped him. “Thomas, where's your jacket?”

“I don't need it, Mrs. Brisbane. It's hot outside. It's about a hundred degrees,” he said.

“Thomas, please don't exaggerate. It's a little chilly and you have short sleeves. I want you to check the thermometer on the window and see what the temperature really is.” She pointed him in the direction of the window. Way past our table, there was a little thermometer stuck to the window that showed the outside temperature.

“What's it say?” she asked.

“Fifty-eight,” Thomas answered.

“Wear your sweatshirt,” Mrs. Brisbane said. “Or Mrs. Wright will blow her whistle at you.”

Mrs. Brisbane watched Thomas leave the room. She shook her head, then sat at her desk, sorting pictures of the students.

Suddenly, a voice called out, “Hey, Humphrey Dumpty!”

I'd know that LOUD-LOUD-LOUD voice anywhere. It was Lower-Your-Voice-A.J. from my old class. I liked it when he called me Humphrey Dumpty.

“Hi, Mrs. Brisbane,” he said.

“Hello, A.J. You know you're supposed to be outside at recess,” she told him.

“Can I at least say hi to Humphrey?” he asked.

Mrs. Brisbane smiled. “Of course. But just for a moment.”

“Where have you been?” I squeaked as A.J. raced up to my cage.

“Hi, Humphrey! Hi, Og! I miss you guys,” he said, leaning in close. “We don't have any classroom pets in Miss Becker's class. But we're working on her. She said she'd think about it.”

“But
I'm
your classroom pet,” I squeaked impatiently.

“Nice talking to you, too,” A.J. answered. If only he could understand me!

“Can I take Humphrey home some weekend?” he asked Mrs. Brisbane.

“My new students are awfully anxious to have him,” she answered. “But maybe if there's a free weekend, I'll call on you. Now you go outside before Mrs. Wright finds out you're inside during recess.”

A.J. raced out of the classroom, and I don't blame him. I'd do anything to keep Mrs. Wright from blowing her earsplitting whistle.

 

Later that afternoon, when I should have been listening to Mrs. Brisbane talk about numbers, I thought about what A.J. had said. He and my other friends wanted a classroom pet.
Another
classroom pet. Maybe they'd rather have a guinea pig or a rabbit or a frog like Og. Or even
another hamster.

My spirits sank down to my tiny toes.

Just before school was over for the day, as the students straightened up their desks, I heard Holly say, “Simon, your backpack is too close to Rosie's wheelchair! What if she had to get out in a hurry?”

Holly
was
extremely helpful.

Simon picked up his backpack. “Sorry, Rosie,” he said.

“There's nothing to be sorry about,” Rolling-Rosie told him. “It's not in my way.”

“It could have been a problem if—” Helpful-Holly started.

“But it's not, Holly,” Rosie interrupted. “Okay?” She glared at Holly, and I thought Holly was going to cry.

“I'm just trying to help,” Helpful-Holly said, blinking.

“Thanks,” Rolling-Rosie answered.

I'm not sure she meant it. And I really didn't understand what was going on.

When the final bell rang, I overheard something else that was a little strange.

“Hey, Paul G., can you touch the top of the door?” Thomas T. True asked.

Tall-Paul shrugged. “I don't know.”

“Try it,” Thomas said.

“Yeah, let's see how far you can reach,” Simon added.

Tall-Paul paused and reached way, way up. When he got on his tiptoes, he could actually touch the top of the door frame.

“Man, you're a giant,” said Thomas. “You must be one great basketball player.”

“Whatever,” Tall-Paul mumbled on his way out.

Just then, Small-Paul Fletcher approached the door. “Did you see how high he could reach?” Thomas asked him.

“So what?” Small-Paul mumbled, pushing his way past Thomas.

“Move along, folks, or you'll miss your buses,” Mrs. Brisbane warned the new students. “Better hurry up, Harry.”

Harry was still at his table, slowly stuffing books and papers in his backpack.

“I don't take the bus,” he said. “My mom picks me up.”

“Ah,” Mrs. Brisbane said. “Well, don't make her wait.”

“It's okay. She's always late,” Harry said.

After a few minutes, Harry left the room. Mrs. Brisbane let out a big sigh and walked over to our table by the window.

“I always forget that it takes a while to get to know a new class,” she told Og and me. “But it's an interesting group, and I know you guys are going to be a big help.”

“I'll try!” I squeaked.

After all, I'm a classroom hamster and helping the teacher is my job.

But I still missed my old friends.

M
rs. Brisbane left, and the room grew dark over time.

Then suddenly the door opened and the lights came on again.

“Hello, mammal! Hello, amphibian!” Aldo's voice boomed out as he rolled his cleaning cart into the room.

“Hello, yourself,” I squeaked back, even though I didn't know what he was talking about. Last year he'd learned Spanish. Was he learning another language?

“Humphrey, you and I are mammals. But Og is an amphibian,” he explained as he started to sweep the room. “I learned that in biology.”

I loved to watch Aldo sweep. He was so graceful as he whirled the broom around the tables and under the chairs, straightening them as he went.

“See, humans and rodents like you, Humphrey, are mammals. We all have fur and ears that you can see and four limbs. We're also warm-blooded,” he said.

“I knew we had a lot in common,” I said. I was unsqueakably glad that Aldo and I were both mammals. Most humans are not as furry as hamsters, but Aldo was an extra-furry human, especially with his great big mustache.

“Og, you're an amphibian,” he continued. “You don't have any fur or hair and you've got webbed feet. Also, we can't see your ears.”