Hamster Magic (2 page)

Celia sat back on her heels. Then she went to find a flashlight.

It took a long time, and she ran into her mother, who made her pick up some toys she had left out. Then her father told her to fetch him some masking tape. Next, Derek caught
her in the hallway and pretended to punch her, and she had to pretend to punch him back or he would say she was soft. But at last she was under the stairs once more, shining the light on the small suitcase.

The bumping had stopped, but from within the case came a faint sound of panting. Celia snapped open the latch and lifted the lid. Inside was a small, golden, slightly sweaty ball of fur.

“What took you so long?” said the hamster. “It’s not my fault the lid fell shut!”

Holding the pocket of her pants firmly closed, Celia climbed the stairs to the third floor. This was where the children’s bedrooms were, one on either end of a long open space with five windows. Above, wooden rafters held up a high, slanting roof. This room was the best thing about the house, they had all agreed, and it was theirs to set up as they liked. They called it the Loft.

They hadn’t finished with it yet, though. Abner was putting together shelves out of bricks and boards, Tate was sorting books to put on the shelves, and Derek was digging in a box of sports gear when Celia came through the door.

“I found the hamster,” she said. “And he talks.” She pulled Hammy gently from her pocket and held him out with pride.

Tate and Abner glanced at each other. Derek, less careful of her feelings, dropped a hockey stick and snorted.

“He does!” Celia prodded the hamster with her finger. “Say something, Hammy.”

The hamster looked annoyed. He lifted his back, twitched his nose, and was silent.

Derek laughed out loud.

Celia lifted the hamster up and stared him right in the eye. “Talk,” she said sternly. “You know you can do it.”

They were all laughing now, even Abner. Celia ignored them—not an easy task—and whispered in the hamster’s tiny ear. “There’s no use pretending you can’t. You already talked, and I heard you. It’s not a secret anymore.”

“Give it up, Seal,” said Tate, calling Celia by her baby name. “And, Derek, it’s not that funny. Stop rolling on the floor. You’re full of dust.”

Abner hauled Derek up and brushed him off. “You almost had me, Celia. Put him back in the cage, and this time, lock it.”

The hamster gave Celia a pleading look.

Celia recognized the hamster version of puppy eyes. “I don’t feel one bit sorry for you. Hamsters that won’t talk
belong
in a cage.”

The hamster snuffled pitifully.

“Besides, I saved your life,” Celia pointed out as she tried to stuff the hamster through
the cage door. “You probably owe me three wishes or something.”

The hamster squirmed in her hand, bracing himself against the wire frame. “Only one!” he squeaked. “One wish only! And it has to be approved by headquarters!”

There was a couch in the Loft. It was big and shabby, and the previous owner had not wanted to move it. But the children didn’t mind its drab brown cover with the faded red dots. It was comfortable, and long enough to hold all of them. And it was on this couch they sat as they stared at the small rodent on the floor.

Derek found it easy to believe in a talking hamster. It took a little longer for Tate. And
Abner was still doubtful, some time after it had become clear to the others. But in the end they all understood that they were four very lucky children, for hadn’t Hammy mentioned a wish?

“Only it’s got to be approved by the Great Hamster,” said Hammy, pacing nervous circles on the scarred wooden floor. “And she’s not going to like it.”

Derek tossed a sofa cushion into the air and caught it neatly. “Who’s the Great Hamster?”

“And how do you know she won’t like it?” Tate pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and patted it into a soft nest for the hamster. “You don’t even know our wish yet.”

“We don’t even know it,” added Abner.

“It’s not the wish,” said Hammy. He stopped his pacing and rubbed his paws over his cheeks, ruffling his golden fur. The white patch over his eyes gave him a worried look. “She won’t like it that I was caught.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” said Celia at once. She got off the couch and knelt beside him.

“Yes, it was,” said Hammy miserably. “I wasn’t supposed to go near the house. But I couldn’t resist those dog biscuits! So crunchy!”

“Hey, I have an idea!” Derek dropped the sofa cushion and leaned forward. “What if you just don’t
tell
the Great Hamster? Then you could give us our wish right now.”

“Don’t tell?” Hammy sat back on his haunches and gave this idea some thought.

“You didn’t tell her you were going to our
cellar to eat dog biscuits,” Celia pointed out.

“Yes, and look what happened!” Hammy cried. “I got caught!”

“By four very nice children,” soothed Tate. “And we would never hurt you.”

“But are you going to let me go?” The hamster blinked his brown eyes and sniffled twice.

The children glanced at the empty hamster cage. It sat on a packing crate near the window. The late-afternoon sun shone between the metal bars of the cage and laid a crisscross pattern along the floor.

“Um—” said Celia.

Derek wouldn’t meet Hammy’s eyes. He took a tennis ball out of his pocket and began to pick at the lint.

“Of course we
want
to let you go,” said Tate carefully. She twined the end of her ponytail around her finger.

“We can’t, though.” Abner bent over the golden hamster with a worried look. “We’ll get in trouble.”

Hammy squeaked in alarm, looking past him.

“No, really, we will,” said Abner.

“Will what?”

All eyes turned to the doorway of the playroom, where Mother stood.

“Uh …,” said Abner.

“Will take care of our hamster,” said Tate, who could think on her feet. She scooped up Hammy from the blanket, scraped his clinging paws from her fingers, tucked him gently into the open cage, and shut the door.

“I hope so,” said Mrs. Willow, smiling. “I’m afraid you have been rather hard on hamsters so far.”

In the cage, Hammy reared back, looking suddenly distressed.

Abner stood up. “We’ll take good care of
this
one, though.”

“We promise,” said Tate.

Derek and Celia nodded eagerly.

“Good,” said Mother. “But you shouldn’t let him out anymore. Hamsters are fast, you know. They can run and hide and trap themselves in very dangerous places.”

“We didn’t take him out,” Celia said. “He undid the latch all by himself.”

Mother fished in her pocket and came up with a safety pin. “He won’t be able to undo this,” she said as she fastened the door to the wire cage. “Now take my advice and keep your hamster safe in the cage.”

The children looked at one another.

“What about when we clean the cage?” asked Tate. “Can’t we take Hammy out then?”

“Yes, of course, but be very careful not to
let him go. If you want a bigger pet one day, you’ll have to show you can take care of a smaller one.”

Abner sighed.

Mother gave his shoulder a pat. “Don’t forget to get washed up, all of you. Supper is in twenty minutes.”

The door shut behind her. Hammy pressed his furry face against the wire mesh of the cage. He looked at them meltingly from his big brown eyes.

“I can’t take this,” said Abner. He turned his back on the hamster and stalked out to the bathroom across the hall. The others heard the splash of water as he washed his hands.

Derek grabbed his hockey stick and began pushing the tennis ball back and forth along the floor, not looking at Hammy. “How can we keep him locked up? He talks and everything.”

Chewing on the end of her ponytail, Tate curled up on the couch again. “I know. It’s like putting one of us in jail.”

Celia crouched next to the cage and tried not to cry. She wasn’t going to do it twice in one day, no matter what. But when Abner came back, she clutched at his arm. “Please, Abbie. We
have
to let him go.”

“Oh, I suppose,” said Abner bitterly. “I might as well say goodbye to ever getting a dog, though.”

Tate shrugged. “Look on the bright side, Abs. At least we get a wish first.”

“And if you set me free,” said Hammy, “I
will
let you have your wish right now. I don’t think we need to bother the Great Hamster … and you probably don’t want to go all the way to the river and get your feet all sandy.…”

“So what
are
we going to wish?” Derek flipped
the blade of his hockey stick, and the tennis ball hit the wall with a
thwack
. “I wish—”

“Don’t say it!” ordered Abner. “Don’t say the words ‘I wish’ until we’ve all agreed. Right, Hammy?”

“That would be best,” said the hamster. “Just to avoid any accidents.”

Derek shrugged. “Okay, then, let’s just tell our ideas. I say a swimming pool.”

“With a twisty slide!” said Celia, clapping her hands.

“How about horses?” Tate bounced on the couch, making the springs creak. “One for each of us!”

“I
could
wish for a dog,” said Abner. “If Mom and Dad would let us keep it.”

“I’d rather have a motorbike,” said Derek. He picked up the tennis ball and tossed it from hand to hand. “Or all my friends here for a
visit—Hey!” He sat up straight. “Why don’t we say we want to go home? Back to our old neighborhood!”

Abner frowned. “I guess we could. The people living in our house now are only renters. Mom and Dad could tell them they had to go.”

“But what about Dad?” Tate laced her fingers together around her knees. “He’s doing important work for the university this year. That’s why we moved in the first place. And what about Mom? She’s taking the year to paint.”

The children were silent. They didn’t want to ruin their father’s work, and their mother had been wanting to paint pictures for a long time. And now, with a year off from her other job, she could.

The sun, lower in the sky, streamed through the windows and lit the rafters of the big, shabby Loft, turning them orange. Abner put
his elbows on the sill of an open window and stuck his head through.

“This isn’t such a bad place, Derek,” he said. “We can have a lot of fun here.”

The others came to stand beside him. They looked out at the rosy sky, down at the trees that circled the house, and past the trees to the river, glinting like a golden thread in the last rays from the sun. The stone bridge arched above the water like something from a fairy tale, and all the children remembered at once that they hadn’t yet run down to see it.

Derek slumped. “Okay,” he said. “I guess we could just get motorbikes, then.”

Hammy rattled the bars of his cage to get their attention. “You don’t understand,” he said unhappily. “I can’t give you motorbikes or anything like that. You have to make a
hamster
wish.”

The children turned from the window to stare at him.

“So what is a hamster wish?” asked Tate.

Hammy sat back and picked lint from between his toes. “Something a hamster would want, of course.”