Summer According to Humphrey (13 page)

“Oh, look! A hawk!” said Abby.

Oh, no! A hawk! Katie had talked about them, too. They were not friends to small furry creatures.

“Eeek!” I squeaked, and the girls all giggled.

But the lake was lovely. How Og would like it! It was hard to see water without thinking of my friend, whom I was beginning to miss.

Next the girls carried my cage up to the top of a hill. From way up there, I could see the camp nestled into a low spot.

“There it is, Humphrey. That valley there—that’s Happy Hollow,” Kayla said. So that’s where the camp got its name!

Miranda swung my cage around to another hollow right next to the camp. “And that’s Haunted Hollow,” she said in an ominous tone of voice. “Where one group will get to spend the night.”

“Yeah, the Chickadees!” said Abby.

Miranda looked a little surprised. “Or the Robins,” she countered.

Abby folded her arms and shook her head. “Sorry, Miranda. We’ve got it nailed. Right, Sayeh?”

I swiveled around in my cage to see Sayeh’s face. She looked surprised and upset at the question.

“May the best team win,” Miranda said. Then she added, “And that will be us!”

I wasn’t sure who the best team was. And I wasn’t at all sure who would win.

When we got back down to camp, something had changed. There was a group of campers gathered around a tree. And another group gathered around the next tree.

“I wonder what’s going on?” Miranda said.

Once we got closer, I could see another clump of kids staring up at the side of the Nature Center.

“Come on,” Kayla said, and we picked up our pace (which made it a tummy-wobbling trip).

When we reached the first tree, Miranda elbowed her way through the small crowd.

“What’s up?” she said.

“This is up.” Richie pointed at a handmade sign tacked to the tree trunk.

(Even though it was spelled “Aminals,” I think we all knew what it meant.)

In smaller letters underneath, the signs said:

(The sign maker was definitely not a good speller.)

“Eeek!” I said without even thinking.

“Free Humphrey?” Miranda sounded truly puzzled.

“That’s not right,” Sayeh added.

“I am not a wild animal!” I protested. “Or aminal!”

“He is not a wild animal,” Sayeh repeated, even though she probably didn’t understand what I’d said. We just thought alike.

Just then Counselor Katie approached. When she saw all the kids gathered, she came up to check things out. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“This.” Miranda pointed to the sign.

Katie studied the sign and said, “Oh.” She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her shorts and asked, “Who put this up?”

“Duh,” Richie said. “It must be Noah. All he talks about is animals.”

Now, talking about animals is not a bad thing. In fact, I usually think it’s a very good thing.

But even though Noah cared a lot about animals—and he did—I was almost as frightened of him as I was of the hootie owl, the hawk and the Howler.

“I’ll talk to him,” Katie said.

She left and the campers scattered. Miranda took me back to the Nature Center and set me on the table next to Og.

We were alone then, except for Lovey and Jake, who were on the other end of the table.

I was still thinking about that hawk.

“Listen, Og,” I said. “Noah wants to free us. But I’ve been out there and I just want to say, you might not
want
to be free.”

“BOING.” It was a quiet response.

“I’m just saying there are some dangerous creatures out there who are our enemies. They don’t like hamsters and frogs at all, except maybe for dinner.” I realized I was getting slightly hysterical. “Like owls and hawks and snakes!”

I was sorry as soon as I said it. I craned my neck to try and see Jake in his cage, but Lovey’s crate blocked him.

“Maybe you don’t feel that way, Jake,” I said. My voice was a little weak. “I’m sure you’re a friendly snake, like I’m a friendly hamster and Og’s a friendly frog,” I added, hoping it would help.

I’m afraid I didn’t sound very convincing.

I crossed my paws and HOPED-HOPED-HOPED that I would not spend the night with the Bobwhites—and Noah—that particular night.

D
espite the disturbing signs, my day out had done me a world of good and I was planning on a long, dozy evening in somebody’s cabin.

But I had forgotten one thing: it was Happy Hollow Comedy Club night. And as much as I would have liked a nap, I knew I wouldn’t get one.

After dinner, Aldo brought Og and me into the dining hall and gave us a ringside seat near the stage. It looked a lot bigger than it ever had before.

I was concentrating on remembering my part when Hap Holloway came out onstage with a very serious look on his face.

“Before we start, we need to do a little talking,” he said. “There were some signs that went up today about freeing our animals. First off, if you want to talk about a problem, just come to me. No need to put up signs anonymously.”

“Anonymous” was the funny name people called themselves when they didn’t want to give out their real names.

“It’s a good issue to discuss,” he said. “So let me say this: We’re hoping to release Lovey, but only when she’s completely healed. Jake has been our camp mascot for a while, but I’d be happy to see how you all feel about releasing him.”

I gulped hard. It sounded like Hap Holloway was in favor of letting us all go wild. My whiskers twitched as I listened intently.

“As for Og and Humphrey, they are pets. They are not to be released into the wild. They are only on loan to us. Understand?” He waited and there was an uproar from the crowd.

Half of them were chanting, “Hum-phree! Hum-phree! Hum-phree!”

The other half chanted, “Og-Og-Og-Og-Og!”

Noah wasn’t chanting. He was just watching the other campers, looking surprised.

The noise was deafening—until Mrs. Wright gave a mighty blow on her whistle.

“There
will be order
!” she exclaimed.

And there was, because the skits began.

The Blue Jays got the show off to a great start. A.J. started this one by coming out onstage, intently looking down at the floor. Aldo came out and asked him what he was doing.

“I’m trying to figure out what kind of tracks these are,” A.J. answered loudly, pointing at the ground.

Aldo said, “They look like wolf tracks to me.”

Then Simon came in and asked Aldo and A.J. what they were doing. When they explained, Simon said, “They look like bear tracks to me.”

Brad came in and asked what they were doing and said, “They look like badger tracks to me.”

This went on a few times with the other Blue Jays until A.J. came rushing in again and said, “You guys! Those are
train tracks
!”

Suddenly Richie came in, leading Ms. Mac, Aldo and Maria and even Mrs. Wright directly toward the rest of the boys. They were hanging on to each other’s waists, huffing and puffing, tooting and chugging—yes, Mrs. Wright blew her whistle—like a real train while the Blue Jays ran off screaming.

The skit was a hit! I laughed and cheered and so did the others.

I was so HAPPY-HAPPY-HAPPY for the Blue Jays, I almost forgot that I would have to be out there soon.

The Chickadees came next. One by one, they joined Abby, who was standing with her legs deeply bent, just as they’d look if she were sitting on a real bench. (There was no bench, but they did a good job of pretending to sit on one.)

Once all the girls were sitting on the “bench,” Maria came strolling by and asked them what they were doing.

“We’re sitting on this invisible bench,” Marissa answered.

“Oh,” Maria said. Then she pointed to the other side of the stage. “But I moved it over there yesterday.”

With that, the Chickadees all tumbled to the floor, while the crowd laughed and clapped. I clapped, too.

Next up were the Bobwhites. They all appeared onstage holding balloons. Super-Sam came out and directed them like an orchestra conductor. All together, they let the air out of their balloons a little at a time and—you won’t believe it—it sounded just like the song “Jingle Bells”! It was such a silly sound, the crowd laughed so loud you could hardly hear the end of the song! When it was finished, they all took deep bows.

I was cheering, too, until Miranda came and whisked my cage off the table—a little roughly, I must say.

“Bye, Og! Enjoy the show!” I squeaked to my friend.

Ms. Mac and the other Robins were setting up a stand-alone door on the stage with the curtains on either side of it while Miranda put my cage directly behind it.

“Okay, Humphrey,” Miranda said in a calming voice. “It’s showtime. You know what to do.”

I was all alone in the middle of the stage (although no one could see me—yet).

The skit began as Kayla came up to the door and opened it partway. Then she slammed it shut and immediately began running around the stage screaming, “Help! Help!”

Lindsey ran onstage and asked her what was wrong.

“There’s a monster behind the door! A big scary monster!” she yelled.

“No way,” said Lindsey. Then she opened the door, shut it again and began running around the stage shouting, “Help! Help!”

When Miranda came out and asked what was wrong, Lindsey described the monster’s glowing eyes, red fangs and ugly face. Then she asked if anybody was brave enough to take a look at it.

Gail was next. She took one look, screamed and ran away. Oh, she was a good screamer, too.

The rest of the Robins did the same.

My ears were twitching from all that screaming and I was feeling a little itchy and twitchy.

Finally, Kayla addressed the audience. “Is anyone out there brave enough to look behind the door?” she asked.

Ms. Mac stood up. (This was all arranged ahead of time, I have to admit.)

“I will,” she said. Then she came up onstage, opened the door wide and jumped back, screaming.

At the same time, Miranda came from behind me and pushed my cage out onto the stage so everyone could see me.

“A monster! A monster!” she screamed, running around the stage. She acted really scared.

There I was, on the big stage with all the campers watching. As soon as everyone saw me, they smiled and started laughing, because they knew
I
was no monster.

“Eek!” I said, though I’m not sure how well my voice carried, especially over all the applause.

“Hum-phree! Hum-phree! Hum-phree!” everyone shouted.

The Robins all came out onstage and took a bow. They looked so proud. Gail had the biggest smile of all. She hadn’t sniffled in a long time.

My heart was still pounding when Miranda put me back on the table.

“Thanks for saving us, Humphrey,” she said. Her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks were pink.

“Anytime,” I answered. And I meant it.

When she was gone, I turned to my neighbor.

“How’d I do, Og?” I asked.

Og made an impressive dive to the bottom of his cage, then came out of the water, up on his rock and twanged, “BOING-BOING-BOING!”

It was better than any applause.

Then the older campers put on their skits and did some funny songs, too.

It was hilarious . . . and it lasted way more than an hour!