Surprises According to Humphrey (14 page)

The match was the correct answer, even though I would have voted for the stove. It turns out you can’t light anything else in the room without lighting the match first!

The same thing happened with the next question
and the one after that. Heidi couldn’t make herself heard. Finally, she stood up. “Mrs. Brisbane, I don’t think it’s fair because the winner is always the person who’s the loudest!”

Mrs. Brisbane bit her lip and looked thoughtful. “Do you think it would be more fair if people raised their hands?”

Heidi nodded. “Yes, and you could call on the first person to raise her hand.”

“So you agree that by raising our hands, this game would run in a fair and orderly way?” asked the teacher.

“Yes!” Heidi sounded very sure.

“Then maybe tomorrow when we go back to our regular rules, you can remember to raise your hand. Do you think you can, Heidi?”

Heidi’s face turned bright pink. “Yes,” she said. “I can.”

Brilliant! Mrs. Brisbane had showed Heidi why it’s important to raise your hand, she’d made it fun and everyone—including me—had helped. When class ended that day, I was convinced the she was the BEST-BEST-BEST teacher in the whole wide world.

I was also convinced that I’d be unsqueakably sad if she didn’t come back to Room 26.

T
hat was the Wackiest Wednesday ever, wasn’t it?” I happily squeaked to Og when we were alone.

“BOING-BOING!” he twanged.

“And weren’t you HAPPY-HAPPY-HAPPY to see Heidi raise her hand?” I asked him.

All I heard was a huge splash, but it sounded like a happy splash to me.

I was so excited about our funny day, I jumped on my wheel and spun as fast as I could. When I got tired of that, I spun the wheel the opposite direction for a while. I was tired and happy by the time Aldo came in to clean the room.

“Hola, amigos,”
he said when he arrived.

I’d figured out some more Spanish by then and I knew that
hola
meant “hello.”

“
Hola
right back at you,” I squeaked.

Aldo was cheerier than ever since his Spanish test was over. He hummed and sang and waltzed his broom across the floor. The nightly show Aldo put on was better than anything I’d seen on television at my friends’
houses. When he finished, he offered me bits of lettuce while he ate his sandwich.

“Well,
amigo
, it’s time to say
adi´os
and move on.” He stood up to arrange his bucket, broom and rags on his cleaning cart. “I won’t see you for a while. I hope you enjoy your trip, wherever you are going.”

Aldo was saying strange things again! I was so stunned, he was halfway out the door before I could squeak, “But I’m not going anywhere!” It was too late for him to hear me. He was gone.

I didn’t think I was going anywhere, but Aldo seemed pretty sure.

“The contract!” I told Og. “If Mrs. Brisbane doesn’t sign the contract, I might be going away.”

Og didn’t respond. Maybe he was as worried as I was. After all, if I went away, he probably would, too.

As I lay in my sleeping hut that night, I thought about my future. Maybe I was going to live with the Brisbanes. Maybe I was going back to Pet-O-Rama. Maybe
real
space aliens were coming to take me away. None of those thoughts made me very happy.

At least Aldo had said “for a while.” I hoped he meant that someday I’d be coming back to Room 26, the place I like best in the world.

The next two days, my friends seemed sillier and more excited than usual while I was much more serious. I think Mrs. Brisbane was, too, especially when Principal
Morales came in during recess to remind her about the contract. “Think it over next week, Sue,” he told her. “I know you’ll make the right decision.”

On Friday, just before my classmates returned from recess, I looked up to see Mrs. Wright standing in the doorway. Her silver whistle glittered.

“Mrs. Brisbane, I just want to say that Garth Tugwell is participating much more now. And his skills are improving.”

“I’m so glad,” Mrs. Brisbane answered.

“However, two of your students came out to recess without jackets or sweaters on. It’s exactly sixty-five degrees outside, and the rules say students must wear jackets or sweaters when the temperature is below seventy. I’m sure you’ll remember that rule from now on.”

“I don’t think it’s a very good rule,” Mrs. Brisbane answered. “If the children play hard, they’ll get overheated, which is just as bad as being cold.”

Mrs. Wright did something funny with her eyebrows and they came down low over her eyes. I think that’s called a scowl. “If you don’t like the rules, then why don’t you make a proposal to change them? That’s why the principal has a suggestion box outside his office.”

“That’s a good idea,” Mrs. Brisbane said. “I think I will!”

The bell rang and Mrs. Wright left, thank goodness.

“Ooh!” Mrs. Brisbane made a fist and pretended to pound her forehead with it. “Maybe I wouldn’t miss this place so much after all!” she said. I think she was talking to herself, but I heard her say it.

“But we’d miss you!” I squeaked. “You have to stay!”

Mrs. Brisbane swung around to face my side of the room. “Humphrey, I hope you’re not agreeing with that woman.”

“NO-NO-NO!” I assured her.

All day long, I kept my eye on Heidi. Once she started to blurt out an answer, but I shouted, “Hands, please!” and even if she didn’t understand my squeaking, she got the message and raised her hand.

When the day was almost over, Mrs. Brisbane asked my friends to clean up their tables and the area around them. “We’ll be gone for a week for spring break,” she said. “We want to come back to a nice room.”

Spring break? Was something going to be broken? And where were we going for a whole week?

“Eek!” I squeaked.

Heidi’s hand shot up. My, I was proud. When Mrs. Brisbane called on her, she asked, “Where will Humphrey and Og spend vacation?”

“Humphrey and Og will be at my house,” the teacher answered. A few kids groaned, and she asked what was wrong.

“I wish I could have Humphrey for a whole week,” said Garth.

“Me, too,” Miranda agreed.

Knowing that Sweetums could get in Garth’s backyard and knowing that Miranda has a dangerous dog, Clem, living at her house made me VERY-VERY-VERY glad I was going home with Mrs. Brisbane.

I knew I’d be safe there and maybe—just maybe—a small hamster with a Plan could convince her to sign that contract and come back to Room 26.

All I needed was that Plan.

“Bert? Are you here?” Mrs. Brisbane opened the front door of the house. Bert didn’t seem to be around.

“I’ll bet he’s in the garage,” she said. She put my cage on the living room table. “I’d better bring Og in.”

It was nice to be back at the Brisbanes’ house. Next to my cage was a vase of pink and white flowers. Mrs. Brisbane always had flowers in her house—real ones. Soon, Og’s tank was next to me on the table.

“Nice to be back, hey, Oggy?” I asked my companion.

“BOING!” he twanged.

I do like visiting the Brisbanes, I really do. But the thought of never seeing my friends in Room 26 was still a worry.
If
Mrs. Brisbane didn’t sign that contract.

Mrs. Brisbane left again, and when she returned, her husband came in his wheelchair behind her. A smile now replaced the grumpy old frown he had the first time I saw him.

“My two favorite buddies!” he exclaimed when he saw us. “I’ve missed you.”

“You spend so much time in the garage, you wouldn’t know if they were here or not,” Mrs. Brisbane said in a teasing way.

“I used to spend my time cooped up in an office. I love having that whole garage all to myself,” he said. “I’ll have to show you my latest creation: a three-story birdhouse.”

Mr. Brisbane liked to make things. The best thing he’d made was my large cage extension with all kinds of wonderful places to hide, swing and climb.

“I guess you’re happy to have a break,” he said to Mrs. Brisbane.

“Yes, I am,” she said. “Especially after today. Ruth Wright complained that I let some children go out without sweaters when it was sixty-five degrees instead of seventy. Is that all school has become: rules about sweaters and fire drills instead of teaching children to learn and grow?”

“It never will be with you around, honey,” he answered.

“She said I should put my suggestions in the suggestion box. Well, I have a suggestion for her!” Mrs. Brisbane was getting pretty heated.

“I suggest you come out and see my birdhouse,” he said. “And that afterward, we order some Chinese food and watch a movie.”

Mrs. Brisbane gave his cheek a little pinch. “You’re the smartest man I know,” she said.

Maybe Bert could figure out a way to get her to sign the contract.