Imagination According to Humphrey

by Betty G. Birney

  Help my friends with their problems

  Go to my friends’ houses

  Go to all kinds of interesting new places

  Help my teacher with her problems

  Have adventures outside of my cage

  Meet new friends

  Try new things

  Visit old friends, like Phoebe

  Help everybody with their problems

  My paw was getting tired, so I stopped and read what I’d written. It was pretty clear that I liked to have adventures and help my friends. If I could combine those two things, I’d be unsqueakably happy.

  “Og, I think I had a brainstorm,” I squeaked. “Or at least a brainshower.”

  “BOING-BOING!” Og sounded cheerful.

  “And a brainshower is a start,” I added.

  MY WRITER’S RAMBLINGS

  At first there was some drizzle,

  and then a lot of rain.

  Then finally I had it:

  a big storm in my brain!

  Little House in Sophie’s Room

  Humphrey, I hope you can come home with me this weekend,” Sophie told me on Tuesday morning. “Because you’ve never been to my house and it would be so much fun to have you there and I’d take really good care of you.”

  Sophie paused. Once she gets started talking, she hardly ever pauses.

  “Of course, there’s Timothy,” she said.

  “Oh,” I squeaked. “Who is Timothy?” I wondered if Timothy was an imaginary bear.

  “But we’ll have fun anyway,” she said. “I promise you! I have so many things to show you—my room, my family, my games, my panda . . .”

  Sometimes, I stare at Sophie’s mouth because it moves and moves and moves. Really, I don’t know how she can talk like that.

  I guess Joey doesn’t know, either, because he walked by while Sophie was talking.

  “What’s going on?” he said.

  “What do you mean?” Sophie asked.

  “Why are talking so much to Humphrey?” Joey said.

  “Because . . .” Sophie replied. “Because I hope he’s coming home with me this weekend. It’s my turn!”

  Joey scratched his head. “I wish he could come home with me. I’ve never had him at my house. Either my mom is too busy or my dad is coming to visit. He lives out of town and I don’t see him a lot.”

  “I know!” I squeaked.

  Just then, Mrs. Brisbane asked everyone to sit down. Joey moved on, but Sophie kept talking to me.

  “I’ll clean your cage and give you treats!” Sophie continued. “I’ll tell you all about the dream I had. And I’ll tell you . . .” Sophie stopped talking because Mrs. Brisbane came right up to her and told her it was time to sit down.

  Sophie looked so downcast, for a second I wasn’t very happy with Mrs. Brisbane. I knew she had to start class again, but Sophie lights up when she’s talking.

  But I have to admit, she talks a TINY-TINY-TINY bit too much.

  I wonder why?

  I didn’t have too much time to think about Sophie, because we talked about our assignment on homonyms or honomyns or homynomynyms. My friends had come up with all kinds of funny combinations.

  Harry wrote a sentence about a pale pail.

  Nicole wrote about a hairless bear: a bare bear. (Of course, the thought of Carlos’s imaginary Bear still made me shiver.)

  Thomas had this sentence: “The football player was injured and had to heal his heel.”

  Kelsey had almost the same sentence, but hers was about a ballet dancer.

  “I see the sea,” Cassie read.

  “Rows of roses rose from the ground,” Tall-Paul said.How clever to come up with one word with three meanings!

  Joey’s was simple, but also clever. “Number one won the game.”

  I didn’t have a chance to read mine out loud, of course. But I had one: “I had pain in my paw when I broke the window pane.” I was proud of that!

  During the week, I kept working on my idea in my little notebook.

  I’d written about how I like to help my human friends. So even though the weather was calm, I tried to brainstorm about how I’d like to help my friends.

  — Help Holly visit Phoebe

  — Help Mrs. Brisbane visit her son Jason in Japan

  — Help Joey see more of his dad

  — Help Cassie go to the ocean

  — Help Sophie go to the parrot island

  — Help Simon go to Italy

  — Help Kelsey go to the ballet

  As you can see, it was a LONG-LONG-LONG list!

  On Friday morning, Sophie handed Mrs. Brisbane a piece of paper. “Here’s my permission slip! I was really worried that my parents would say no, because they’re so busy, but I promised them I’d do all the work and there wouldn’t be any mess or any noise.”

  I was pretty sure I knew what that permission slip was all about. And I vowed that I’d do my part to make sure she kept that promise.

  For the rest of the day, Sophie kept glancing over at my cage.

  While my friends were working on their vocabulary words and math problems, she sneaked peeks at me. Once she even waved. (Luckily, Mrs. Brisbane didn’t notice.)

  When the rest of the class—including me—was listening to an amazing chapter from the dragon story, Sophie just stared at me.

  Later, while the other students read from their writing journals, Sophie didn’t pay a bit of attention. Instead, she was smiling at me.

  Mrs. Brisbane had to call her name three times when it was her turn to read her work. I knew our teacher was annoyed, but after she heard Sophie’s paragraph about flying like a parrot to join other parrots on an island, she said, “Excellent work.”

  That made me smile, even though the idea of being alone on an island with large and noisy birds is not my idea of fun!

  “Oh, Humphrey, we’re going to have so much fun,” Sophie said after school as Mrs. Brisbane helped her carry my cage and other important items such as my Nutri-Nibbles and Mighty Mealworms.

  “I’m sure we will!” I squeaked.

  I only wished I didn’t have to leave Og behind.

  “BOING-BOING!” he called as I was carried out of Room 26.

  “I’ll be back soon,” I called back.

  Usually a parent or grandparent comes to pick me up. Sometimes I take the bus (which is noisy and bumpy).

  But this day, the parent of another student picked us up.

  His first name was Carter. His last name was George. So he really had two first names. Or two last names. He wasn’t a student in Room 26, but he lived next door to Sophie.

  Of course, I couldn’t see Carter or his mom, because Mrs. Brisbane had put a cloth over my cage to keep me warm. It was COLD-COLD-COLD outside.

  “I get to have Humphrey all to myself,” Sophie told her friend.

  “Can I see him?” Carter picked up a corner of the cloth and peeked at me. I still couldn’t see him. All I could see was a giant eye. It was a friendly giant eye, though.

  “I sure wish I had a hamster,” he said. “Or a classroom hamster. Our room is really boring.”

  I can’t imagine a classroom without a pet! Even a frog like Og would be more fun than not having a pet at all.

  When we got to her house, Sophie’s mom opened the door and whispered, “Come on in, but please be quiet.”

  Sophie set my cage on a table in the living room and took the cloth off.

  “Come see him, Mom,” she said. “Isn’t he cute?”

  “Shhh,” Mrs. Kaminski said softly.

  I looked up at Sophie’s mom. She was holding a rolled-up blanket.

  “Hello,” I squeaked softly.

  “Isn’t he cute?” Sophie whispered. “I’m going to clean his cage and feed him and give him fresh water an
d . . .”

  “Sweetie, tell me later,” Mrs. Kaminski whispered.

  Sophie kneeled next to the low table so her face was on the same level as mine. “Welcome to my house, Humphrey,” she said. “I’m so happy you’re going to stay here.”

  “Me too!” I squeaked.

  Sophie stood up. “Mom, Mrs. Brisbane really liked my paragraph. She said it was excellent!”

  Suddenly, the blanket made a very loud noise. “Waaah! Waaah!”

  It was so loud, my whiskers wiggled and my ears shook.

  Mrs. Kaminski sighed. “Oh, no.” She jiggled the blanket. “It’s all right, baby.” She made funny clicking sounds with her tongue and asked Sophie to take me to her room.

  “Okay,” Sophie said, but she didn’t sound happy.

  She put my cage on a small table right next to her bed. “Welcome to my room,” she said. “Don’t worry. Timothy has his own room.”

  Even so, I could still hear him wailing.

  “All he does is cry,” Sophie said. “Sometimes I cry, too.”

  “I’m SORRY-SORRY-SORRY,” I said.

  I’m always sorry when my friends cry.

  “All babies do is cry, eat and make messy diapers,” she said. “That’s it!”

  Got it! There was a baby in that rolled-up blanket and the baby was called Timothy.

  “I guess he can’t help it, Sophie,” I said.

  I wished she could understand my squeaks.

  I hopped on my wheel and started spinning. That made Sophie giggle.

  “You’re so funny, Humphrey,” she said.

  I was GLAD-GLAD-GLAD to hear her laugh.

  “Did you hear Mrs. Brisbane say my work was excellent?” she asked.

  “I did!” I squeaked. “I liked it, too. Even though it was about parrots.”

  Sophie reached in the cage and gently picked me up. She held me in one hand and stroked me with the other. “You’re so soft, Humphrey,” she said. “You’re the most handsome hamster I’ve ever seen.”

  “Thanks!” I squeaked.

  Next, Sophie gave me a tour of her room. She showed me her desk, her books, her closet full of clothes and toys, her dresser, her beanbag chair and her panda bear, Pickles. Luckily, Pickles was a toy instead of a real panda.

  Then she put me inside my hamster ball.

  It wasn’t so easy to roll around her room, because she had carpeting on the floor.

  She sat down on the carpet and watched me.

  “Mom said that soon Timothy will sleep more and cry less and she’ll have more time for me,” she said. “But that’s taking a long time. Dad said that when I was Timothy’s age, I cried a lot, too, but I don’t remember that. I don’t remember being a baby at all.”

  I kept listening and rolling as Sophie continued to talk.

  I rolled into a corner but managed to back out.

  Sophie kept talking.

  I rolled under the bed. Even though it was dark under there, I was able to see a sock with blue polka dots.

  I rolled out from under the bed.

  Sophie was still talking.

  And then, something wonderful happened: Sophie’s mother came into her room and the baby wasn’t with her.

  “Hi, Mom!” Sophie said. “Look, Humphrey’s in his hamster ball!”

  “Oh, that’s so cute,” Mrs. Kaminski said.

  “He’s the smartest hamster in the world,” Sophie said. “He does all these tricks. Sometimes he hangs from the top of his cage by one hand—I mean paw. And he climbs that ladder and spins on his wheel!”

  I rolled close to Mrs. Kaminski’s foot.

  She bent down to look at me. “Hi, Humphrey,” she said.

  I spun the ball in a circle.

  Mrs. Kaminski yawned. “Sorry, Humphrey. Timothy kept us awake all night.”

  “That was rude,” I squeaked.

  “Tomorrow, I’ll show you and Dad how to clean his cage,” Sophie said. “I’m really good at it.”

  “Great,” Mrs. Kaminski said, yawning again. “Your Dad’s plane is about to land, but he has to work on a report tonight. He’s working on a big deal.”

  “Everything is a big deal,” Sophie muttered.

  “What did you say?” her mom asked.

  “Nothing.”

  Just then, Timothy started wailing again. “Waaah! Waaah! Waaah!”

  Even inside my hamster ball, he sounded LOUD-LOUD-LOUD.

  “Oh,” Sophie’s mom said. “I was hoping he’d sleep for a while.”

  “Me too,” Sophie said softly.

  Her mother hurried out of the room and Sophie picked up my hamster ball. “Timothy is my brother and I love him,” she said. “But I don’t always like him.”

  “Maybe you’ll like him when he’s older,” I squeaked.

  “I wish Dad didn’t have to work so much,” she said. “I wish Timothy didn’t cry so much. I wish Mom wasn’t tired all the time.”

  Sophie took me out of my hamster ball and held me in her hand.

  I wiggled my whiskers and twitched my tail, which made her laugh.

  “I wish you were my hamster,” she said, which was sooooo sweet of her.

  Sophie’s mom returned. “I got him back to sleep. How about a snack?”

  “Yes!” Sophie quickly put me back in my cage and followed her mother out of the room.

  I crossed my paws and wished that Timothy would have a LONG-LONG-LONG nap.

  My wish did not come true.

  After a few minutes, I heard it again. “WAAAH!”

  He cried for a while and then Sophie came back in her room, carrying a handful of apple slices. “Mom and I were having a nice talk,” she said. “Then he started crying again.”

  She sat on the bed and broke off a small piece of apple. “Here, Humphrey.” She opened the door to my cage. “I’m not very hungry. You like apples, don’t you?”

  “Yes!” I squeaked. I happily took the piece of apple. I wasn’t very hungry, either, but at least I had my cheek pouch to store it in.

  “Let’s play,” Sophie said after a while. She went back to her closet and searched through her toys.

  “Oh, I forgot about this!” She reached way back in her closet and pulled out something large. “My dollhouse. I haven’t played with it for a long time.”

  She pushed the dollhouse to the middle of the room and carried me over to it.

  “See, Humphrey? It’s a little house,” she said.

  It wasn’t like any house I’d ever seen—one side was completely open. There was no wall, so you could see the rooms inside. There was furniture in every room like in a real house, but the pieces were tiny.

  “It’s just your size,” Sophie said.

  She set me down in the living room and I began to look around.

  I looked at the fireplace and the painting of a vase of flowers. There was also a chair, a blue rug, two lamps and a tiny television.

  But what grabbed my attention was the red sofa. It looked so cozy, I had to try it out.

  Sophie laughed out loud and raced to the door.

  “Mom, come look at Humphrey in the dollhouse!” she shouted.

  “I’m feeding Timothy,” her mother called back. “I’ll be there soon.”

  Sophie ran back to the dollhouse.

  I left the sofa and went through a little door to the kitchen with a refrigerator, stove, sink, table and chairs.

  While Sophie giggled, I sniffed all around, but I’m sorry to say I didn’t see any food in that kitchen!

  I went into the dining room—no food there, either. So I scrambled up the staircase in the hallway.

  The upstairs bedroom had a soft bed that was exactly my size! Of course, I had to try it.

  “Mom! Now Humphrey’s in bed!” Sophie yelled through the door
way. “Hurry!”

  “In a minute,” Mrs. Kaminski called back.

  I looked out the window and was about to climb through when Sophie grabbed me.

  “No, no, Humphrey,” she said. “You’ll hurt yourself if you jump out the window. Here, try the bathroom.”

  When I visit my human friends’ houses, I almost never go in the bathrooms. Hamsters don’t like to get wet.

  This one had a tiny sink, a toilet and a little rug. There was also a hamster-sized bathtub. It was nice and dry, so I crawled inside.

  Sophie giggled. “Humphrey, you’re so funny. Oh! I have an idea.”

  She disappeared, so I left the bathroom and climbed up another staircase to the attic. There wasn’t much there. Some boxes and a trunk.

  I checked the little window up there, but it was too small for me to climb through.

  By then, Sophie was back. “Humphrey! Dinner is served in the kitchen.”

  I scurried down the stairs, back to the kitchen. There was food on the table.

  “Have some fried chicken and mashed potatoes,” she said. “With corn on the cob.”

  I don’t know much about those human foods, so I carefully approached the table and sniffed.

  There was no fried chicken, mashed potatoes or corn there. But there were raisins! I LOVE-LOVE-LOVE raisins.

  I quickly gobbled them up. Yum!

  “And for dessert, apple pie,” Sophie said, placing another raisin on the table.

  I took the raisin and placed it in my cheek pouch for later.

  Now I understood. Sophie was using her imagination and pretending the raisins were other food.

  “Do you think I’m a good cook?” Sophie asked, laughing.

  “The best!” I told her.

  I was just about to head upstairs again because there was one room I hadn’t visited. But Sophie reached in and picked me up (gently, I’m happy to say) and took me back to my cage.

  “I’ll be back soon, Humphrey,” she said.

  I looked around my cage. It’s my house, but it doesn’t look anything like a human house. I store my food in my cheek pouch instead of a refrigerator. I never eat fried chicken and mashed potatoes. I use my poo corner instead of a toilet.

  It’s an unsqueakably nice cage, really.

  But somehow, I couldn’t stop looking at that little dollhouse.