Mysteries According to Humphrey (9 page)

I made a quick decision and headed to our table by the window.

There was the blinds cord. Swinging myself back up to the table is always tricky, but with Phoebe's watch (which now seemed to weigh a ton) and the paper in my mouth, I knew it would be harder than ever.

What I didn't expect was that the weight of the watch would make me swing faster than usual. It was a wild ride and my tummy felt queasy and uneasy.

Whew! I leaped onto the tabletop and slid FAST-FAST-FAST past Og's tank and right up to my door.

I wiggled my way out of the watch and left it on top of the MKC paper right in front of my cage.

“I got the watch, Og!” I said. “I'll tell you more later.”

Then I darted inside, pulled the door behind me and ran into my sleeping hut.

In seconds, I was fast asleep.

 

HUMPHREY'S DETECTIONARY:
Surprisingly, while you're solving one mystery, like where to find a watch, you might find a solution to another mystery, like how to help a friend.

11

The Case of the Creepy Classroom

A
s soon as the morning bell rang, I leaped out of my sleeping hut because I wanted to make sure Phoebe found the watch and the MKC notice.

While I was waiting for her to arrive, Thomas came in and tapped Just-Joey on the shoulder. He had a big friendly smile and said, “Hey, Joey . . . want to shoot some hoops after school?”

Joey looked surprised. He didn't smile at all. “I'm busy,” he said.

“Maybe tomorrow?” Thomas asked.

Joey shook his head. “I don't think so.” And then he walked away.

Thomas wasn't smiling anymore.

I think Thomas is a nice boy. I know for a fact that Joey is a nice boy. But I didn't think Joey was being very nice to Thomas.

“What's going on, Og?” I asked my froggy friend.

“BOING-BOING!” he replied.

“I'm not sure I want any more mysteries to solve,” I squeaked.

Og dived into the water and splashed around.

Just then, Phoebe came into the classroom and went straight to her table.

“Over here, Phoebe!” I squeaked at the top of my lungs.

She didn't pay any attention, so I jumped up and down.

“PHOEBE!” I screamed. “OVER HERE!”

She still didn't respond, so I climbed up to the top of my cage.

“WILL SOMEBODY PLEASE TELL PHOEBE TO COME OVER HERE?” I shrieked.

I heard Rosie giggle. “Look at Humphrey. He's acting silly!”

She rolled her wheelchair over to the table for a closer look. Simon, Joey and Kelsey rushed over.

“Phoebe, come see Humphrey,” Kelsey said.

Thank goodness!

Finally, Phoebe came over, too.

Since an audience had gathered around me, I decided to give them a show.

Clinging to the top bars of my cage, I made my way, paw over paw, across to the other side.

“Go, Humphrey, go!” Simon cheered me on.

“Where's he going, anyway?” Rosie asked.

I knew exactly where I was going—to the side of my cage near Phoebe's watch and the MKC paper. I took a deep breath and I dropped down into the soft bedding.

I did a double flip-flop. I hadn't planned on it, but my friends all said, “Oooh!”

I looked over at the watch and the paper, crossed my paws and hoped.

“Hey, Phoebe, isn't this your watch?” Kelsey asked.

Phoebe stared at the watch. “It is!” She picked it up. “But I looked here yesterday. How did I miss it?”

“Maybe the custodian found it,” Rosie suggested.

Phoebe put on her watch and smiled.

I crossed my paws tighter.

Kelsey picked up the MKC notice. “It was sitting on this,” she said.

She handed the paper to Phoebe, who stared at it and stared some more.

The bell rang and the students all headed for their chairs.

Phoebe slipped the paper into her pocket.

It worked! I could finally uncross my paws. Phoebe had her watch back, and maybe she'd call that number for MKC.

I was proud of myself, but my joy didn't last long, because when I looked over at Thomas, he was staring at his desk and looking about as unhappy as a human could look.

“Class, get ready for a ton of fun!” Mr. E. announced.

I wasn't in the mood for fun, so I crawled into my sleeping hut and had a nice dream about Phoebe's daisy watch.

When I awoke, I thought I was having a bad dream. In fact, I thought I was having a nightmare!

There were ghosts hanging from the ceiling! There were witches and broomsticks and black cats flying above the bulletin board! And there were leering pumpkins of every shape and size pinned on the board.

“Eeek!” I squeaked.

I don't think anybody heard me.

“I'll bet this is the best-decorated room in all of Longfellow School,” Mr. E. told my friends.

To squeak the truth, he was probably right. But I didn't think looking at those hideous grinning pumpkin faces and ghastly ghosts all night long would be best for me.

“And don't forget, there'll be a costume party on Halloween next week,” Mr. E. reminded the class.

“Eeek!” I squeaked again.

As if my paws weren't already full (of problems), now I had to come up with a costume.

Humans just don't realize how much a classroom hamster has to do.

After school, Mr. Morales came into the classroom. “Nice decorations, Ed,” he said.

Mr. E. looked very proud. Mr. Morales took a piece of paper out of his pocket. “Have you got a moment?”

“Sure,” Mr. E. said.

The two men sat in some student chairs. Grown-up humans always look funny sitting in those small chairs.

“How have things been going with the class?” the principal asked.

“Great,” Mr. E. said. “The kids are the best.”

Mr. Morales nodded. “Yes, and I can tell they like you a lot.”

Mr. E. smiled and I think his red hair glowed a little brighter.

“But there have been a few problems,” Mr. Morales continued.

“Yes, there have!” I squeaked. “Problems like Phoebe-Harry-Kelsey-Simon-Rosie-Holly-Thomas!”

I know all that the principal heard was “SQUEAK-SQUEAK-SQUEAK,” and it made him laugh.

“Yes, Humphrey, I know you're listening,” he said.

Mr. E. cleared his throat. “What, um, problems?”

The principal looked down at the paper. “Well, Mrs. Wright has complained about some safety issues, some injuries, a problem with noise. And a problem with students roaming the halls during class.”

“Oh,” Mr. E. said. “I guess Mrs. Wright and I don't see eye to eye.”

Mr. Morales smiled. “Mrs. Wright does like to follow the rules. But rules are there for a reason, after all.”

Mr. E. nodded nervously. “Yes, I understand.”

If he understood, why didn't he follow them? That was part of the mystery of Mr. E.

“And a few parents have called to say that they're concerned about a lack of homework,” Mr. Morales continued.

Mr. E. chuckled. “I'll bet the students haven't complained about that.”

“No,” Principal Morales replied. “But we're here to teach the children. I believe that learning is fun, but there's work involved, too.”

Mr. E. nodded. And nodded some more. He looked so nervous, even his red hair looked pale.

“And then there's Mrs. Brisbane.” Mr. Morales wasn't smiling anymore. “She's wondering if you're keeping up with her lesson plans. She said you haven't called her with questions.”

“Oh,” Mr. E. said. “Well, I've been following the lesson plans but adding my own touches. Maybe I haven't been following them closely enough.”

At least Mr. E. was honest. I liked that about him.

“The district-wide math test is coming up. Are the students prepared for that?” Mr. Morales asked.

“Not completely,” Mr. E. said. “Not yet.”

“Ed, I want to give you a chance. You're a new teacher, and I know you really want to continue,” Mr. Morales said. “But the learning comes first.”

“It certainly does!” I squeaked.

“BOING-BOING-BOING-BOING!” Og agreed.

“Are you letting me go?” Mr. E. asked.

“No, Ed,” Mr. Morales said. “I think you can be a good teacher. But I need to see a change starting tomorrow.”

“Yes, yes, I'll change,” Mr. E. said. “Thank you for giving me another chance. I won't let you down.”

The two men shook hands and Mr. Morales left.

Once he was alone again, Mr. E. began to mutter something I couldn't understand. I did hear the word “failed.”

I know that my fellow classmates don't want to fail. Maybe teachers don't want to fail, either.

After a while, he got up and paced around the room.

“Don't give up,” I squeaked. I was trying to helpful.

I guess Mr. E. heard my squeaks, because he looked my way.

“I'll tell you one thing, I'm not giving up yet,” he said.

He sounded very determined, which gave me hope.

“Take out the lesson plans,” I squeaked. “In the binder. In the drawer!”

I didn't think he was likely to listen to me, since he thought of me as an “it.” But surprisingly, he marched over to the desk, opened the drawer and took out the binder.

He stuffed the binder into his large sack. Then he came over to the table where Og and I live.

“You have it easy,” he said. “You're just classroom pets. Everybody loves you and you don't have to worry about tests.”

Then he stared out the window, his shoulders slumped. He sighed once or twice.

After a while I couldn't stand it. “You can do a better job!” I squeaked. “TRY-TRY-TRY!”

Mr. E. looked down at me and
almost
smiled.

“Would you like to switch jobs with me, Humphrey?” he asked.

I think it was the first time he used my name.

“I could sit in your cage and take naps and you'd teach the class,” he said.

I was sorry to hear that he thought all that I did was sit in my cage and take naps. But then, he didn't know about the lock-that-doesn't-lock.

“I really like my job,” I squeaked. I was too polite to say that I didn't think Mr. E. would be a very good classroom pet.

“I really like my job,” Mr. E. said. “And I want to make this work.”

“I want this to work, too!” I replied.

Just then Ms. Mac walked in. Why do good things always happen when Ms. Mac walks in?

“Hi, Ed,” she said. “How's it going?”

Mr. E. sighed. “Not very well, I'm afraid.”

“What happened?” Ms. Mac asked.

“Mr. Morales just told me there have been a lot of complaints about my teaching. Too much noise, not enough homework . . . and Mrs. Brisbane doesn't think I'm following her lesson plans,” he explained.

“Are you?” Ms. Mac asked in the friendliest way possible.

Mr. E. shook his head. “Yes, and, uh, no.”

Ms. Mac said, “Oh.” She came a little closer to my cage and leaned down. “Hi, Humphrey,” she said with a wink.

“I really want to be a teacher,” Mr. E. said. “There were no job openings, so I signed up to be a substitute.”

“That's how I got started,” Ms. Mac said.

Yes, and if she hadn't, I wouldn't have my wonderful job!

“I've never told anybody what happened,” Mr. E. said.

Ms. Mac smiled. “I'm a good listener.”

Mr. E. nodded. “Okay.”

“Listen up, Og,” I squeaked to my neighbor. “Maybe we'll solve the mystery of Mr. E.”

“BOING-BOING!” Og agreed.

“My first day as a substitute was a nightmare,” he said. “I tried to teach the kids, but they wouldn't be quiet, wouldn't sit down, wouldn't listen to a word I said. When I tried to give them homework, they threw paper wads at me.”

“What?” I squeaked. “That was RUDE-RUDE-RUDE!”

“BOING-BOING-BOING!” Og was as shocked as I was.

Ms. Mac was surprised, too. “Was that at Longfellow School?” she asked.

“No,” Mr. E. said. “I tell you, I was ready to give up teaching forever. And I decided that the next time I got an assignment, I'd make everything fun. If the kids liked me, maybe they'd behave better.”

“I understand,” Ms. Mac said. “But you can have fun and learning at the same time. Students can have respect for you and like you at the same time. Look at Mrs. Brisbane!”

“Yes, look!” I squeaked.

“I wish I knew her,” Mr. E. said. “This is such a great class, and I don't think I've lived up to her standards. But it was so awful to know that the students in that first class didn't like me.”

You'd think I'd have learned it by now, but sometimes I forget: teachers are humans!

“I have an idea,” Ms. Mac said. “I'm going to visit a friend tonight, and I'd like you to come along. Are you free?”

“Yes,” Mr. E. said. “But I have to prepare for tomorrow.”

Ms. Mac smiled mysteriously. “I think you can do both.”