Summer According to Humphrey (11 page)

“Would you happen to be a hamster?” I asked.

“A
what
?” it replied. “Don’t be silly. I’m a mouse! A girl mouse.”

“I knew that,” I admitted. “I’ve seen mice before. But they were in cages at Pet-O-Rama.”

“Eeek!” she squeaked again, her big eyes blinking. “Cages?”

“Never mind,” I said. “Can you help push me back toward the Nature Center? I think I’ve rolled off course,” I explained. “If you could push down the lid of this thing, it would help.”

The mouse came a few steps closer, but she was definitely on her guard.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I’m Humphrey. I’m a hamster. A classroom hamster,” I added proudly.

“Oh,” she said. “I’m not sure what that is, but you look a lot like a mouse. Why don’t you come out of that thing?”

It was an interesting question.

“Don’t you want to come out into the wild?” she asked.

Out in the wild—me?

“Well . . .” I stalled for time. “Um, I live in a school, in a classroom.”

She was clearly horrified. “With
humans
?
Inside?
”

“What’s wrong with humans?” I asked.

She shuddered. “They don’t like mice, for one thing. Besides, you’re not meant to live inside. You should live outside, like me.”

I didn’t agree with her, any more than I agreed with Noah.

“By the way, who are you?” I asked, only because she’d asked me the same question earlier.

“I’m Goldenrod,” she said in a friendlier voice. “I mean, that’s what everybody calls me.”

“Nice name,” I said, and I meant it. “Isn’t it very dangerous to live outside? With owls and bats and Howlers?”

Goldenrod looked puzzled. “Howlers? What are they?”

“Oh,” I answered. “They’re horrible, terrible things. They’re . . . well, I’m not sure what they are. I’ve only heard about them. They go, ‘Owoooo!’”

Goldenrod’s nose twitched as she thought about it. “I’ve never seen them or heard them. Owls are very scary, of course, but bats are nothing to worry about. Yes, there are dangers out here, but it’s better than a life in prison. Isn’t it?”

“Prison?” I asked. “Who’s in prison?”

“I’ve seen them carry you around in that prison,” she said.

I couldn’t help chuckling. “That’s my cage! It protects me from dangerous things, like dogs and cats.”

“What are they?” Goldenrod asked.

“DANGEROUS-DANGEROUS-DANGEROUS creatures!” I said. “You’re lucky you’ve never met them.”

“Goodness, I guess I am,” Goldenrod replied. “I’ve seen foxes, of course, and coyotes. But never dogs and cats.”

Foxes and coyotes sounded every bit as dangerous as dogs and cats, but I didn’t say so.

“Besides, I can get in and out of my cage whenever I want,” I explained. “I have a lock-that-doesn’t-lock.”

Goldenrod tilted her head to one side. “Lock?”

I could see it wasn’t going to be easy to explain the role of a pet to her. “Anyway, it’s not a prison. In fact, humans love me.”

Goldenrod gasped. “Humans
love
?”

I gasped in return. “Of course! They love each other and they love their pets.”

“Wow. I had no idea,” Goldenrod said. “I thought they just made noise and tore down trees and set fires.”

“No,” I told her. “They like to feed animals and play games and burp and sing silly songs about Little Bunny Foo Foo.”

Goldenrod’s eyes got wide. “Bunny Foo Foo? Does he live around here?”

“No.” I chuckled. “Never mind.”

Then I changed the subject. “Can you help me, Goldenrod?” I asked. “Could you close this lid and give me a push?”

Luckily the ball had stopped with the lid on the side, right at Goldenrod’s level.

“Yes, if that’s what you want,” she said. “It’s been interesting to meet you, Humphrey.” She reached up with her front paws and pushed the lid closed.

“Oh, and I’ll never forget you, Goldenrod. We have a lot in common, you know,” I told her.

“I won’t forget you, either, Humphrey,” she said. “Let me know if you ever decide to be wild.”

And with that, she gave the ball a big push and I rolled back toward the Nature Center. I was impressed with her strength.

“THANKS-THANKS-THANKS!” I squeaked to her.

“Bye, Humphrey!” she squeaked back.

I had to run as hard as I could to roll the ball to the bottom of the steps. As I caught my breath, I heard noise coming from the cabin. There seemed to be quite a commotion going on there.

“Humphrey?
Humphrey!!
” That was Ms. Mac’s voice, but I never heard her quite so excited before.

“Maybe he rolled under the desk,” Katie said.

“Or outside,” another voice suggested.

There were footsteps as Ms. Mac and some of the kids ran out onto the porch.

“I hope he didn’t roll out here.” Ms. Mac sounded worried.

“Wait a second! I see him!” I recognized Simon’s voice.

More footsteps and then Ms. Mac reached down and gently picked up my hamster ball.

“Oh, Humphrey, you had us so worried,” she said softly. “I guess you had yourself a little adventure.”

“You have no idea,” I squeaked weakly.

Noah was out on the porch, too. Ms. Mac turned to him. “Noah, you can see how dangerous it can be for a pet to be out of his cage.”

“He was in his hamster ball,” he said. “But I bet he wishes he could have just kept going.”

“That’s not for you to decide,” Ms. Mac said firmly.

“Right!” I agreed.

In a few seconds, I was safe and secure in my cage. I was glad to be back. And when I rested up, I’d tell Og what happened.

For the moment, I crawled into my sleeping hut for a nice doze. In the background, Ms. Mac was talking about how everybody—even she—was responsible for what had happened.

When I closed my eyes, all I could see was Goldenrod’s face. As I drifted off to sleep, the words “I won’t forget you, Humphrey” repeated over and over in my mind.

T
hat night, the Chickadees had me back again. The boys were annoyed because the girls had hosted me more than they had. But I had to admit, lately the girls’ cabins were just a little neater than the boys’.

While the girls were doing well in winning me for sleepovers, the boys—particularly the Bobwhites—were ahead in everything else. Everywhere I went, I heard kids buzzing about the activities outside of the Nature Center.

“Sam hit a home run, bases loaded—he’s awesome!” I heard Garth say that morning.

Later, I heard that Sam broke the camp record for swimming laps.
And
that he’d scored the highest number of points in the volleyball game.

Wow, it was true. Sam really
was
super, which made Garth and the other Bobwhites unsqueakably happy.

Still, the Chickadees were far from giving up. Instead of chatting and relaxing before bed the way most of the campers did, Abby had the girls study their trail skills right there in the cabin.

I have to say, Abby sure wasn’t lazy. She’d made a big chart showing the signs they’d have to read out on the trail. The counselors would mark the trail, and to score points, the campers would have to follow the markings correctly and reach the end. Whichever group made the best time won.

It was actually quite interesting. There were arrows and warning signs and even left and right turn signs, all made out of rocks, sticks and leaves. I secretly thought that I would be good at following a trail like that.

The Chickadees seemed tired from a day of swimming-canoeing-hiking-volleyball, but they tried hard to pay attention. Even so, could anyone beat Super-Sam?

Just before lights-out, I overheard Abby take Sayeh aside.

“Listen,” she said. “Listen.”

I was sure Sayeh was listening, but Abby wanted to make her point.

“I saw you hanging out with Miranda in arts and crafts. If you spill the beans about any of our plans, you’ll be betraying the Chickadees and all the work we’ve put in. Are you with us?” she asked.

“Of course,” Sayeh said. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not Miranda’s friend.”

“Fine,” Abby added. “But right now, being a Chickadee comes first.”

“Did you hear that, Humphrey?” Sayeh asked me the next morning as she took me back to the rec room. “Abby would probably even be mad at me for talking to you.”

“I’m sorry, Sayeh,” I answered. “I’d never tell a soul.”

Sayeh sighed a huge sigh. “I am
not
a tattler,” she said.

“Of course not,” I agreed.

“I’d love to be Miranda’s canoeing partner. I’d love to practice volleyball with her.” Sayeh looked very sad. Which made me feel VERY-VERY-VERY sad indeed.

But I had more than Sayeh on my mind because I’d just seen Brad come into the Nature Center. In the past, Brad looked down at his feet most of the time. But today, he was looking at people. He wasn’t exactly smiling, but he acted more like he was part of the group.

Gail came in a little later and luckily took the seat next to his, although she didn’t seem to notice he was there.

I was staring at the two of them and didn’t even notice Noah standing by Og’s tank. Goodness, he startled me.

“Og, I found your true home,” he said softly. “You need water—lots of it. And other frogs to be friends with. I’ll help you, don’t worry.”

I couldn’t tell if Og was worried, but
I
sure was. Og
had
a friend—me! Did he really need more frogs and water? He did quite a lot of splashing with the water he had. If Og’s true home wasn’t his lovely tank, what was?

I didn’t have time to think about Og anymore because Ms. Mac started the session. I crossed my paws, hoping that this would be the day for a hike.

“Okay, campers, who’s up for a nature hike?” she asked.

“ME-ME-ME!” I squeaked. I was sorry right away because if Noah was around, he might think I wanted to go on a hike into the wild. Alone.

No one heard me anyway, because everyone was getting up and heading for the door. Luckily, they left their notebooks on the floor.

“Okay, Og,” I told my friend. “A hamster’s gotta do what a hamster’s gotta do.”

I grabbed a couple of stickers from my notebook, jiggled open the lock-that-doesn’t-lock and slid down to the floor.

I chose a sticker with the outline of a hand on it. A New Friend Is Close at Hand! it read. That went into Brad’s notebook.

A Smile Can Work Magic, said the other sticker. It had a magic wand with a star on it. I tucked that into Gail’s notebook.

Luckily, that nice tall plant made it easy for me to get back to my table. Now my goal was getting across that oh-so-slippery table without sliding into Jake’s tank.

I’d thought about it ahead of time and so I leaned my weight to my left and sailed across the table, narrowly missing the cage and coming to a smooth stop next to Og.

“I made it!” I squeaked.

“BOING-BOING!” Og replied. He’d obviously been impressed with my moves.

I scurried back to the safety of my cage and took a nice spin on my wheel. When I’d calmed down a bit, I glanced toward Jake’s cage.

I thought about what Noah said and wondered if Jake liked living in a tank. I also wondered if he had a way to get out of his tank, like my lock-that-doesn’t-lock.

I didn’t like what I was wondering. Luckily, it wasn’t long before the campers were back.

Brad and Gail weren’t exactly smiling, but I crossed my toes and hoped my effort would pay off.

“Okay, nature lovers,” Ms. Mac said. “Write your observations in your notebooks.”

Brad grabbed his notebook and quickly saw the sticker there. He stared at it for a while.

When Gail opened her notebook, she saw her sticker right away. After she read it, I saw her sneak a quick glance in Brad’s direction.

He must have noticed because he looked back at her. “What?” he asked.

“I didn’t say anything,” she responded. “I thought you said something.”

Brad shook his head. “Nope. I’m just writing in my notebook.”

“Oh,” Gail said. She started making notes, too, then turned to Brad. “Is
ladybug
one word or two?”

“One word, I think,” he said. “You saw them, too?”

Gail nodded. “Red ones and kind of orange ones.”

“Did you see that purple bird? What was that called?” Brad asked.

Gail wrinkled her nose. “A purple martin, I think.”

“I have a cousin named Martin,” Brad said, which sent Gail giggling. It was good to hear her giggling again.

“Is he purple?” she asked.

“Nope. He doesn’t have wings, either,” Brad replied. “But he is short.”

Gail giggled again.