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Authors: Betty G. Birney

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BOOK: School Days According to Humphrey

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The kids shook their bodies and laughed out loud.

“Okay, settle down,” Mrs. Brisbane said. “Now that the wiggles are over, you may come up and pick out a rainy day activity.”

The students all headed toward the desk, including Rosie.

“That's okay, Rosie,” Holly said, stopping her. “I'll pick something out.”

“Thanks, but I'd like to choose my own,” Rosie said, rolling right past Holly.

Simon was the first one at the desk, and he grabbed a board game. “Who wants to play this with me?” he asked.

Small-Paul and Tall-Paul both came forward and said, “Me!”

“Hey, Paul comes in two sizes: giant and miniature,” Simon joked.

The two Pauls didn't think it was funny. Neither did I. They both backed away.

“Never mind,” Small-Paul said, and he headed back to his table and took out a book.

“Og, did you see that?” I squeaked.

Og splashed around in his tank.

Thomas decided to play the game with Tall-Paul and Simon. Rosie joined them, and Holly raced up and said she'd like to play, too.

Simon checked out the box. “Sorry, only four can play. First come, first serve.”

Holly looked disappointed until Kelsey asked her to work on a puzzle with her.

Phoebe grabbed art supplies and was busy gluing things to bright pieces of paper, and Joey joined her.

By the time Hurry-Up-Harry got up to the desk, there wasn't much left in the box.

“Are you feeling all right, Harry?” Mrs. Brisbane asked him.

“I'm fine,” he said.

“You know,” she continued, “if you could be on time at school for a whole week, maybe you could be the first student to take Humphrey home for the weekend. Would you like that?”

Harry nodded. “Would I! Yes!”

“It's up to you to listen for the bell and return with the other students. I want you back in the room right after recess.” She reached deep in the box and pulled out a smaller box. “Now why don't you see if Paul F. would like to play this game with you?”

“Okay,” said Harry.

Soon all the students were busy with their activities and seemed to be having fun, which was a good thing.

But there were problems, too. I wondered if Harry could hurry up for a whole week. I could see there was a problem between Holly and Rosie, and between the two Pauls as well.

I hopped on my wheel for a spin because that's where I do my best thinking.

If there's one thing that gets a classroom hamster thinking, it's a problem happening right in his own classroom.

HUMPHREY'S RULES OF SCHOOL:
It's easy to get your wiggles out, but it's harder to shake your problems away.

A Visitor and a Visit

T
he next day was bright and sunny, which I normally like. Last night, I had wished for another rainy recess so I could study the new students a little more. But the sunshine helped me think of another verse to write in my notebook:

Autumn, oh, autumn,
When the weather turns funny.
One day it's cold and rainy,
Next day it's warm and sunny.

I don't believe Mrs. Brisbane thought it was funny when Hurry-Up-Harry arrived a few minutes after the bell rang. This time he brought his mom with him. She looked very worried as Mrs. Brisbane greeted her.

“Mrs. Brisbane, I'm so sorry. After your call last night, I promised myself I'd get Harry here on time, but then I had to stop for gas,” she explained. “Tomorrow, I'll get him here on time.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Ito,” Mrs. Brisbane answered politely.

Then she turned to Harry. “Why don't you go to your seat and take out your language arts workbook?” she said.

“Og, did you hear that?” I squeaked to my neighbor when Mrs. Ito had left and the students were all working. “Mrs. Brisbane called Harry's mom last night to talk to her about his being late.”

“BOING-BOING!” Og loudly replied, which made some of the kids laugh.

“That's serious,” I said. “I hope he wasn't too upset.”

But when I looked over at Harry, he didn't seem upset at all.

The bell rang for recess later in the morning, and the students rushed out of the room. I knew they'd be getting their wiggles out on the playground, so I decided to try some of those exercises Mrs. Brisbane had taught us the day before.

I wiggled my ears and my whiskers and I even jiggled my tail (something else humans could not do). Then I SHOOK-SHOOK-SHOOK my whole body, trying to shake my problems away.

“Rockin' Humphrey!” I squeaked.

I guess I looked a little silly, but I felt good.

I felt even better when I heard a familiar voice say, “Humphrey! What are you doing?”

I looked up and saw a wonderful sight. Golden-Miranda and Speak-Up-Sayeh, two of my best friends from last year, were standing by my cage and smiling down on me.

“I think he's dancing,” Sayeh said in her beautiful, soft voice.

“We miss you so much, Humphrey,” Miranda said.

“I'm SORRY-SORRY-SORRY you have George in your classroom,” I squeaked. If only she could understand me!

“We miss you too, Og,” Sayeh added. “George doesn't like you, but we do.”

“It's not the same without you two.” Miranda leaned in very close and whispered, “I love you, Humphrey.”

I was a little worried that Og might feel left out, but Miranda leaned in close to his tank and said, “You too, Og.”

My heart did a little somersault inside me. Golden-Miranda still loved me. And I loved her back.

“Girls, Mrs. Wright will be looking for you,” Mrs. Brisbane said. “She always knows when someone's missing from the playground.”

They laughed and promised to come see me again.

The rest of the day, I tried very hard to concentrate on what the teacher said. But no matter what she said, I kept hearing Miranda's voice saying, “I love you, Humphrey.”

Later, Mrs. Brisbane made an announcement. “Class, I'll be taking Humphrey home this weekend. Starting next Friday, he'll start going home with a different student each weekend.”

I was a little bit relieved not to be going home with any of the new students, since I still didn't know them very well. However, I'm a very curious hamster, so I couldn't help wondering what weekends at their houses would be like.

Mrs. Brisbane lived in a yellow house with her husband, Bert. After an accident last year, Bert was now in a wheelchair. He spent a lot of his time in his workshop making birdhouses. (He made a big extension for my cage, tooâthanks!) He also worked part-time at Maycrest Manor, a place where people get better after an accident or an illness. Sometimes he took me there to help.

It's pretty quiet at the Brisbanes' house, especially compared to some houses, which are filled with kids and pets. Sometimes it's a little
too
quiet and I miss Og.

I dozed a lot that weekend. I napped while Mrs. Brisbane tidied up the house. I slept while she went over students' papers. I snoozed while the Brisbanes went out Sunday morning.

I was certainly rested up when Mrs. Brisbane opened my cage on Sunday afternoon and said, “Humphrey, you must be bored to tears! I haven't paid a bit of attention to you this weekend, but that's changing now.”

She scooped me up and put me into my yellow plastic hamster ball.

“How about a change of scenery?” she asked.

It sounded unsqueakably nice to me.

She carried me out to the garage, where Mr. Brisbane was hammering away at a piece of wood.

“I thought you might like some company,” Mrs. Brisbane told her husband.

“Always do,” he said.

Mrs. Brisbane sat in an old stuffed chair near the workbench and put my hamster ball on the ground. My hamster ball didn't have flashing lights or music, but I still liked it.

“Go take a spin, Humphrey,” she said. “You need the exercise.”

I started the ball rolling. Things look different from inside the ball and they sound different, too.

When the Brisbanes talked, they sounded as if they were underwater. But I could still hear what they were saying.

“Bert, may I ask you a personal question?” she said.

He chuckled. “We've been married thirty years, Sue. I think you can ask anything you want.”

“Okay. What's the worst thing about being in a wheelchair?” she asked.

Bert thought for a few seconds. “I can't reach that box of candy you hid on the top shelf in the kitchen.”

Mrs. Brisbane laughed. “I put it up there so I can't reach it, either.”

Then Bert got more serious. “People are the worst part of being in a wheelchair.”

“Why?” Mrs. Brisbane asked.

“Well, I don't like it when people treat me as if I'm different. I'm no different just because I'm sitting in a chair. I'm the same person I always was,” he explained.

His wife nodded. “That's true.”

“And I don't like it when people try to help me when I don't need help,” Bert continued.

“But you can't blame people for wanting to help,” Mrs. Brisbane said.

“I appreciate help when I need it, and I know I have to ask for help sometimes. But some people just won't leave me alone. Like Violet Rasmussen next door. If I'm outside for one minute, she runs over to see if she can help. She really gets my goat.”

Mrs. Brisbane laughed quietly. “You haven't changed a bit since you've been in that chair, Bert Brisbane! You're as stubborn as ever.”

“It's called independent,” he said, chuckling.

Bert began running a piece of sandpaper over a piece of wood. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, there's this girl in my new class. Rosie. She's in a wheelchair,” Mrs. Brisbane said. “She's very independent, too.”

“That's good,” Bert said.

“Yes, but she's not the problem. It's another girl.” Mrs. Brisbane sighed. “Something else, Bert,” she said. “You know how when you were a boy, you were really short?”

Mr. Brisbane smiled and nodded. “Yep, until one year when I went from being the shortest boy in the class to the tallest boy in the class. It happened over the summer. Quite a change.”

“Which did you like better? Being short or being tall?”

Mr. Brisbane stopped sanding the wood. “I guess there were problems either way.”

“That's what I was thinking, too,” his wife said.

“Me too!” I squeaked, rolling my ball closer to her chair.

“Oh, Humphrey, I almost forgot about you.” Mrs. Brisbane laughed.

“No one could ever forget Humphrey,” Bert said.

BOOK: School Days According to Humphrey

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