Summer According to Humphrey (15 page)

“Thank you,” I squeaked weakly.

For the first time in my short life, my cage felt like a prison.

“I’m never giving up,” Sayeh had said.

I heard those words in my head all evening. And after I was safely in the Robins’ Nest that night, I kept hearing them. My friends had given their all looking for Og and I hadn’t done one single thing!

I was mad at myself and sorry for myself all at once. I was mad at Noah and sorry for him, too. And then I heard it:

SKITTER-SKITTER-SKITTER.

SCRITCH-SCRITCH-SCRITCH.

Goldenrod was under the cabin again. I didn’t think twice about what I had to do. I slid down the table leg and found an opening between the floorboards.

“Goldenrod? It’s Humphrey,” I squeaked.

“Hi, Humphrey! What are you doing out of your cage?” she squeaked back.

“I need your help,” I said. “I’ll meet you outside.”

I scampered to the door. There was a nice wide opening between the bottom of the door and the floor and I easily slid through it. When I got out to the porch, I saw Goldenrod waiting in a clump of bushes.

I was so excited, I probably didn’t make sense, but I told her about Og and what had happened.

“Maybe he wants to be wild,” Goldenrod said.

“Maybe,” I agreed. “But I have to know for myself.”

Goldenrod thought for a moment. “I’ll help you, but it’s a long way to the lake. Oh, wait—I know a shortcut.”

Soon, I found myself following Goldenrod down the path in the moonlight. Then she veered off the path, into thick underbrush—almost like the jungle I’d seen in that movie back in the library. Longfellow School seemed a million, jillion miles away.

I was out in the wild, like the lions and gorillas and hootie owls.

It was SCARY-SCARY-SCARY. It was also
thrilling.

G
oldenrod moved quickly through the brush. I was right behind her, but oh, the grass and branches and tiny rocks tickled my whiskers, scraped my paws and made me itchy all over.

SKITTER-SKATTER-SKIT.

There was someone else in the brush. Could it be the Howler?

SKITTER-SKATTER-SQUEAK.

I was pretty sure the Howler didn’t squeak.

“Come on, Lucky,” Goldenrod said. “We have to help our friend Humphrey.”

Then I heard SQUEAK-SKITTER-SKAT.

“You can help too, Go-Go,” she said.

Soon, there were about a dozen mice accompanying us, Goldenrod’s brothers, sisters and cousins. They scampered along through the underbrush as I desperately tried to keep up.

Then I heard HOOT-HOOT. HOOT-HOOT.

“Excuse me,” I said, gasping a bit for air. “But did I just hear an
owl
?”

“Sure,” said Goldenrod. “That’s why we try not to go out in the open.”

“Good call,” I agreed.

And then I saw the most wonderful sight I’d ever seen. The moonlight shimmered and glimmered across the surface of the lake. The water was silvery-purple. I guess that’s why it was called Lake Lavender. It was beautiful.

Oh, but I also felt a bad feeling deep in my tummy. Maybe Og would prefer this beautiful lake to his tabletop tank. Maybe Og was happier with the frogs in Lake Lavender than he was living next door to a hamster.

Goldenrod led us to the very edge of the water, where there were tall plants and soft grasses.

“Here we are,” she squeaked. At least I think that’s what she squeaked. I could barely hear her over the deafening chorus of frogs!

I never knew there were so many kinds of frogs and so many different sounds.

QUANK-QUANK-QUANK!

RUMM-RUMM-RUMM!

TUCK-A-TUCK-A-TUCK!

CHIRP-CHIRP-CHIRP!

But I didn’t hear a single BOING.

“How can I find him?” I asked Goldenrod.

“Call him,” she said. “Maybe he’ll hear you.”

There was a nice flat rock nearby. I climbed up to the top, cleared my throat and squeaked with all my might.

“Og? This is your friend Humphrey! Og? Og!”

The quanking and chirping continued. If only those big bullfrogs would stop RUMM-RUMM-RUMM-ing for a second.

“OG!” I shrieked. “OG, IT’S HUMPHREY!”

Oddly enough, the chorus suddenly became quiet, quiet enough for me to hear a clear and distinct “BOING!” I’d know that BOING anywhere.

“Og, if you’d rather stay here at the lake where it’s beautiful in the moonlight, I’ll understand,” I told him. “But if you’d like to come back and be my neighbor again, we can lead you back.”

“BOING-BOING!” was the response.

“My friends know the way,” I continued. “And the kids miss you a lot.”

“BOING-BOING-BOING!”

Did that sound a little bit closer?

“I’m here, on a rock on the shore,” I told him. I was afraid my small hamster voice might not hold up much longer.

“BOING-BOING,” Og answered.

I waited and waited until I heard a familiar splashing. And then I saw him: his bright green skin shining in the moonlight, his big googly eyes gleaming and that big old goofy grin. He was on shore, hopping toward me.

“Og! I missed you!” I shouted.

“BOING-BOING!” he replied, so I knew he’d missed me, too.

HOOT-HOOT. HOOT-HOOT.

“Hurry, let’s get back in the brush,” Goldenrod said.

Quietly, without another squeak, Goldenrod, Lucky, Go-Go and others led Og and me skittering and hopping through the undergrowth on the long trek back to the Robins’ Nest cabin.

“I can’t thank you all enough,” I told my wild friends.

They squeaked, “Good luck,” and scampered off, disappearing into the bushes.

Only Goldenrod lingered for a few seconds.

“You are a wonderful friend to Og,” she told me.

“
You
are a wonderful friend to
me,
” I replied. “And Goldenrod? You’ll be careful with that owl, won’t you?”

“Of course,” she said. “But Lucky can tell you more about that owl than I can. He was just a baby when an owl swooped down and picked him up.”

I gasped, “Oh, no!”

Goldenrod nodded. “But for some reason, he dropped him right away. That’s how he got his name—Lucky.”

I shuddered a little and she turned to leave.

“If I EVER-EVER-EVER can help you, please let me know,” I called after her.

“Thanks,” she said shyly. Then, in a flash, she was gone.

I looked over at my old pal, who looked tired and pale. Of course—he needed water! Luckily, there was a lovely puddle at the bottom of the steps. After sitting in the water awhile, he looked like his old self again.

I sat there with Og for the rest of the night. Neither of us said a thing. We didn’t need to.

When it started to get light, I told Og to stay right where he was. Then I slid back under the door.

I knew from experience that there was no way to get back on the table, so I waited. When the loudspeaker played that awful wake-up song, the girls began to stir.

As soon as I saw Miranda sit up, I began to SQUEAK-SQUEAK-SQUEAK at the top of my lungs. She heard me and jumped out of bed.

“Humphrey! You’re out of your cage!” she said, dashing toward me.

I was way ahead of her. I raced to the door and slid under.

“Come back!” Miranda ran after me and opened the door.

I hurried down to Og’s puddle. He was still there, thank goodness.

Miranda stopped short and stared. “Og! That’s Og!” she screamed.

The other Robins were outside now, screaming with happiness. Gail picked up my cage first and then Og.

“I’ll go tell Ms. Mac.” Miranda took off running, still in her pj’s!

“Tell me again,” Ms. Mac said after Og was back in his tank and I was back in my cage.

Miranda told the story again.

“I’m afraid with all the fuss about Og, one of you forgot to lock Humphrey’s cage,” she said.

“Sorry,” the Robins said in unison.

I felt a little guilty because they didn’t have anything to be sorry about.

Ms. Mac pointed a finger in my direction. “And you, Humphrey, were naughty to get out of your cage.”

Naughty, yes. But it was well worth it to have my friend back.

“I guess somehow Og found his way back, though I can’t imagine how,” Ms. Mac continued. “But here he is and that’s all that counts.”

I couldn’t have agreed more.

Og and I put in a special appearance in the dining hall at breakfast that morning to loud cheers and applause.

Noah got up and apologized to Og and to the other campers. I could tell he was REALLY-REALLY-REALLY sorry.

“I thought I knew a lot about animals,” he said. “I thought that frogs belonged with frogs. But now I know some frogs belong with people.”

Then Hap prepared everyone for the final day of competitions.

“Play hard, play fair, have fun,” he said. “And now, let the games begin!”

I glanced over at Sayeh. This was the moment she’d been dreading.

Surprise—she had a big smile on her face! Humans are hard to figure out. But that’s what makes them so interesting.

W
ait up, Garth!” Sam was standing right in front of my cage.

Garth hurried over. “What’s the matter? Your pitching arm’s okay, isn’t it?”

At that moment, Sam was using his pitching arm to scratch his other arm. And then his neck. And then his leg.

“I’m itching like crazy,” he said. “I can hardly stand it.”

Garth’s jaw dropped open as he stared at Super-Sam, who now could be called Scratching Sam. His skin was red and bumpy and blistery, and just watching Sam scratch made me itch.