I peeked out of my sleeping hut, half expecting to see a real pirate with a patch over his eye and a sack full of doubloons (though I wasn’t quite sure what those were). Instead, I saw my old pal, Aldo, staring into my cage.
“Are ye in there, matey?” he asked.
“YES-YES-YES, and you certainly fooled me,” I squeaked.
When he threw back his head and laughed, his mustache shook so hard, I thought it might fall off. Luckily, Aldo’s mustache is firmly attached. “Ye be all right, Jack,” he replied, even though he knows perfectly well my name is Humphrey. “I be here to swab the decks. And don’t ye be worrying. I’m not a real pirate,” he said. “Not yet, anyway,” he added with a wink.
That comment got my whiskers wiggling, I can tell you! Did he mean he might become a pirate someday?
He didn’t explain what he meant, just whistled a merry tune I’d never heard before. After he cleaned the floor and emptied the wastebaskets, he stood in front of my cage and said, “Check this out.”
He danced a very happy, bouncy kind of dance as he whistled his tune. When he was finished, he bowed and said, “That’s a hornpipe dance. It’s named after a musical instrument sailors play. What do you think, Humphrey?”
I was happy he remembered my name again and even happier to be able to squeak the truth. “It was GREAT-GREAT-GREAT!”
“Thanks, matey. Gotta set sail now.” With that, he pushed his cleaning cart out of Room 26.
It was very quiet once he was gone. So quiet that I couldn’t help remembering the thing he’d said about not being a pirate yet. Since Aldo was one of the nicest people I’d ever met, it was hard to think of him as a person who would steal people’s treasure, which is what real pirates do. Still, with his fine mustache and excellent hornpipe dancing, I could almost believe he was a pirate.
I couldn’t sleep a wink that night, not just because I’m nocturnal, but also because of all the strange goings-on.
“Og, if I could go to the library, maybe I’d understand what everyone is talking about,” I told my neighbor.
Og floated in the water side of his tank as if he didn’t have a care in the world. I flung open the door to my cage and came a little closer.
“Wouldn’t you like to know what’s going on?” I squeaked loudly, just in case he hadn’t heard me before.
He didn’t answer at all. He just floated around. Maybe he was sleeping, but who can tell with a frog?
“I was thinking, maybe I should go down there and check things out,” I said, raising my voice even more.
Still nothing from Og.
Since I was already out of my cage, I decided to have a little adventure. Aldo would have gone home by now, so the coast would be clear. I slid down the leg of the table and scurried across the floor. The door was closed, sure, but I was able to squeeze under the bottom. After all, I’d done this before!
The hallways of Longfellow School are always a little eerie at night. There are low lights on, and the street-lights shine through some of the windows. But it’s odd to be in a school with no children, no teachers and no principal.
It doesn’t feel quite right.
I hurried to the library, squeezed under that door—oops, a little tight—and there was that marvelous room filled with books. At first, it was SCARY-SCARY-SCARY because the fish tank had its lights blazing, so it glowed in a way that was pretty, but kind of ghostly. The colorful fish swam around in the bright blue water, and luckily, they didn’t look scary at all.
It was cool in the library (maybe Mrs. Wright was right about the temperature being off). I walked up the big aisle between the shelves and the tables and stared up at the tank.
The sunken ship was still there, and I have to admit, it fascinated me. Whose ship was it? A tiny pirate? A hamsterish fish? Or some creature of the deep I’d never heard of? I crept a little closer to get a better look. There was a series of shelves next to the desk. I found that if I reached up and pulled hard with all my might, I could raise myself from shelf to shelf until I reached the top of the desk.
The light blazing from the fish tank blinded me for a second, and as I stumbled across the desktop, I stepped on something hard and lumpy.
Like magic, a big screen in the front of the room lit up. I scrambled over the bumpy object and—whoa—pictures came up on the screen and music blared. I looked down and realized that I had been standing on a remote control with all kinds of buttons, one of which had turned on a television. But I forgot all about the remote when exciting music began to play. I looked up at the TV screen, and what I saw up there amazed me.
The words on the screen spelled out Treasure Island. (I am so glad I learned to read!) There was the sea and a ship and a boy named Jim Hawkins. Before I knew it, I was watching an amazing adventure starring a pirate known as Long John Silver.
Oh, and there was a parrot that squawked, “Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!” even louder than A.J. had. The bird had a sharp, pointy beak that I would NEVER-NEVER-NEVER want to come into contact with. And there were great big waves rolling up and down, up and down. As I settled down to watch, I accidentally hit another button and the movie started all over again. The words, the music, the parrot. And those waves rolling up and down, up and down until my tummy felt funny.
This time, I didn’t wiggle a whisker. I sat quietly and watched the whole movie from beginning to end.
It was one of the best nights I could remember, at least at Longfellow School.
When it was over, I carefully tapped the remote control until the picture went off. Then I dashed back to Room 26, grabbed the cord for the blinds that hangs down next to my table and swung myself back up like I was swinging my way up to the crow’s nest of a ship.
A crow’s nest is a lookout on the top sail of a ship. I learned that watching Treasure Island.
Soon, I was back in my cage, safe and secure.
“Ahoy, Og! Would you like to hear about Treasure Island?” I asked my friend.
“BOING-BOING!” he answered.
I took that to be a very big “yes.”
It took me most of the night to tell Og the whole story of the movie I’d seen. If I do say so myself, I did a great job, especially when I screeched, “Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!”
Whenever I did that, Og responded with an enthusiastic, “BOING-BOING!”
The next morning, once class was under way again, I was dozing away, dreaming about a desert island.
This wasn’t just any desert island, because in addition to the swaying palms and the ocean breezes, Ms. Mac was there with me. Oh, and we had such fun, eating dates and nuts and playing in the sand (which I must admit, I like better than water).
In my dream, I heard roaring waves, screeching seagulls, the singing of an ocean breeze. Then there was the sound of Mrs. Brisbane. Maybe I wasn’t dreaming anymore. I poked my head out of my sleeping hut.
“Class, I have a big surprise for you,” Mrs. Brisbane announced. “I’ve brought in some helpers to advise you about your boats.”
“Whoo-hoo!” A.J. hooted loudly. Garth joined him.
Mrs. Brisbane went to the door, and when she opened it, in came her husband, Bert, and—surprise—Gail’s mom!
“Remember, there’s a prize for Most Beautiful Boat and a prize for Most Seaworthy,” said our teacher. “Mr. Brisbane can advise you on building your boats, and Mrs. Morgenstern is an artist who can help you make them look good.”
That news created quite a stir in class. Personally, if I were sailing, I’d want a solid, seaworthy boat. But I also liked the idea of a good-looking craft. Having these two helpers was just the kind of idea a very clever hamster might have come up with!
All of my classmates were buzzing with excitement, except for Gail, who stared down at her desk. I was puzzled. Wasn’t she glad her mom was there? I decided to think about it for a while, but I guess I dozed off.
The next time I woke up, Mr. Brisbane was talking. “A boat that floats is a success,” he said. “A bo
at that sinks is not.”
I nodded in agreement and then drifted back to sleep. I was awakened again by the sound of Mrs. Morgenstern’s voice. “A thing of beauty is a joy forever,” she said. “Your job is to make your boat a joyful reflection of who you are!”
Suddenly, I was wide awake. The SS Golden Hamster was definitely a joyful reflection of who I was. But would a boat like that actually float?
My friends were already busy drawing and discussing their boats. If only I had a partner to help me build my boat! I stuck my head outside the hut.
“Og, would you like to build a boat with me?” I asked.
“BOING!” he answered, followed by loud splashing.
I guess the idea of a boat is pretty silly to a creature that can swim like Og.
So I watched my fellow classmates make their plans. Mr. Brisbane provided each group with a light wooden hull (the body of the boat), which he had hollowed out because Mrs. Brisbane said it was too dangerous for her students to be carving with knives. He wheeled his chair from table to table, encouraging my friends about their ideas. Mr. Brisbane moves around in a wheelchair after an accident last year, but it hasn’t slowed him down one bit.
Mrs. Morgenstern also moved around to each group. She was wearing a green and gold flowered tunic with gold pants tucked into her red boots.
“Color is the key!” she told Seth and Tabitha. “Choose your colors carefully.”
“The sail’s the thing,” Mr. Brisbane told Art and Mandy. “Remember, that’s what powers your boat. The Vikings were great sailors. Good choice.”
Vikings! My whiskers wiggled with excitement and I strained my neck, hoping for a glimpse of their drawing.
Mrs. Morgenstern moved to the table where Gail was working with Heidi.
“Come on, Gail,” she said. “You can be more creative than that! Think color!”
Gail wasn’t giggling. She wasn’t even smiling.
Kirk, who was almost always joking, was also very serious as he worked on his boat with his friend Richie.
“I’ve got a great idea,” Kirk said as he quickly sketched a drawing. “I know all about boats. We’ll make it a tall ship . . . like this!”
My heart thumped a little faster. Tall ships were amazing with MANY-MANY-MANY sails billowing in the wind!
“That’s cool.” Richie picked up his pencil. “What if we put a thing on the front, a whatchamacallit?”
He started to draw on the paper, but Kirk reached out and stopped Richie’s hand. “A figurehead? I don’t want to take the chance. It might throw the ship off balance and sink it.” Richie stopped drawing, but he didn’t look very happy.
“It would look good,” he complained.
“Yep,” Kirk agreed. “But you want to win, right?”
“Sure,” Richie said, although he didn’t sound completely convinced.
“Hey, Richie, what did the ocean say to the boat?” Kirk asked.
“What?” Richie asked.
“It didn’t say anything. It just waved!” Kirk joked, and Richie laughed.
Just then, Mr. Brisbane came to their table. “This is a happy group,” he said.
He studied the sketch of the tall ship. “It’s a fine-looking craft, boys,” he praised them. “Good work.”
Kirk and Richie beamed with pride.
“Mr. Brisbane, want to hear a joke?” asked Kirk.
Mr. Brisbane smiled. “Always.”
This time, Richie started. “What did the ocean say to the boat?”
“It didn’t say anything. It just waved!” Kirk responded. Then he and Richie exploded into laughter.
They were a good team. Or so I thought.
Mrs. Morgenstern’s voice rang out. “Now that’s what I call original!” She was standing by the table where Sayeh and Miranda were working.
“Gail? Heidi?” she said. “Look at this! Stunning.”
Heidi and Gail came over to look at the drawing.
“It’s a swan boat,” Miranda explained. “I saw one once in a park.” She sounded very proud. Speak-Up-Sayeh didn’t say anything, but she looked proud, too.
“Okay,” said Heidi. “We’ll make ours really pretty. Right, Gail?”
Gail didn’t answer. She just followed her friend back to the table and stared down at her drawing. I wished I could see it from my cage, but I couldn’t.
After Mr. Brisbane and Mrs. Morgenstern left, Mrs. Brisbane pulled her chair to the front of the room, took out my new favorite book and began to read. Uncle Jolly Roger and Vic and Vi finally reached the tropical island where there was supposed to be buried treasure. But when they arrived, they discovered that a band of pirates had gotten there right before them. The very thought of meeting a real pirate gave me the shivers. But it was the good kind of shivers, where you feel happy and scared all at the same time.
When Mrs. Brisbane stopped reading, my friends all begged for more. “I’d like to read another chapter,” she said. “But I don’t think there’s time.”
Just then, the bell rang, announcing the end of school. The day had gone so quickly, none of us had noticed. Not even Wait-for-the-Bell-Garth, who was always the first one heading out the door.
Usually, after school was finished for the day, I looked forward to Aldo’s arrival. It was the high point of my evenings. But that night, I was anxious for Aldo’s visit to be over as fast as possible.
For one thing, I liked regular Aldo better than pirate Aldo, despite his hornpipe dance. For another thing, I was still thinking about Treasure Island and Long John Silver and Jim Hawkins, the boy who went to sea. I stared out the window until I saw Aldo’s car pull out of the parking lot. Then I threw open the door to my cage, slid down the table leg and zoomed across the floor. I was so excited, I almost forgot to tell Og what I was doing. I felt a little guilty having so much fun without him, but I couldn’t resist the chance to see that movie again.
I squeezed under the library door and headed straight for the remote control. I punched it and—boom—the monitor lit up. I was all ready to set sail on the open sea.
I was SO-SO-SO surprised when instead of a pirate movie, there was some kind of program about how the human eye works! I guess Mr. Fitch had showed it to some other class. I must admit, I learned a lot about the cornea and the iris and cones and rods.
But believe me, it was nothing—nothing—like sailing to Treasure Island.
Keep your eyes open, mateys. There may be rough seas ahead!
From JOLLY ROGER’S GUIDE TO LIFE,
by I.C. Waters
6
Wright Is Wrong
By the time class started the next morning, my mind was spinning as fast as my hamster wheel, thinking about pirates, sailboats and the sailing contest.
Once class began, however, there was too much going on to think about any of those things. The vocabulary test came first. I’d had boats on my mind all week but not spelling. I took the test with my friends (sneaking into my sleeping hut to write in my notebook), but I managed to miss three words, including squall. For some reason, I thought there was a w in there. Like sprawl. Or bawl.
I must admit, I had a little doze during math period. As soon as that was finished, Mr. Brisbane and Mrs. Morgenstern returned and the sailboat building was in full swing again. I perched near the top of my cage and watched my friends at work.
Oh, what lovely boats they were! The boat Miranda and Sayeh were working on really looked like a graceful swan. It was a sailboat that curved up high on each end. The front part looked like the head of a swan. The back part looked like the tail feathers. The girls were carefully gluing colorful feathers to the sides of the boat. It was quite a sight!
A.J. and Garth designed an impressive sailboat that had a skull-and-crossbones pirate flag (which is called the Jolly Roger, like the uncle in the book Mrs. Brisbane was reading to us).
Tabitha and Seth were building a Chinese junk. It had several sails. The biggest one was red, with a dragon painted on it. And the Viking ship desi
gned by Art and Mandy was beginning to take shape. It was long and low with a square sail with blue and white stripes.
But the sailboat to end all sailboats was the one Kirk and Richie were building. It was still early, but I was already thinking they had a good chance of winning the race. Richie was sanding the hull, and Kirk was working on the sail.
SCRITCH-SCRITCH-SCRITCH! went the sandpaper. Richie was really throwing himself into his work when suddenly Kirk pulled the boat out of his hand.
“Hold it, Richie. You have to sand it evenly. You’re taking way too much off this side, see?” Kirk pointed to one side of the boat.
“Okay, okay. You don’t have to grab it like that.” Richie, who was usually a happy-go-lucky guy, looked grumpier than I’d ever seen him before. “Give it back.”
“I’ll sand it,” said Kirk. “I know how to do it.”
He started sanding while Richie glared at him. “I know how to do it, too,” he told Kirk.
“Look, Richie, just let me do this. I can practically promise we’ll win because I know just what to do,” Kirk assured his partner. “My dad and I built one of these last year.”
“I can at least sand it,” Richie protested, but Kirk didn’t give in.
“I’ll do it,” Kirk said. “And we’ll get the prize.”
Kirk kept sanding. He didn’t even seem to notice how upset Richie was.
After a while, Kirk said, “Hey, where do you take a sick boat?”
“Who cares,” Richie muttered.
“To the dock!” Kirk replied with a big laugh. “Get it? To the doc!”
Richie didn’t answer, and he certainly didn’t laugh.
Gail didn’t seem to be enjoying the assignment any more than Richie. Heidi painted the hull while Gail was supposed to design the sail. Mrs. Morgenstern loved all of Heidi’s ideas.
“Oh, those squiggles look like waves! That’s a wonderful theme for the boat,” she exclaimed. Then she turned to her daughter. “Gail, why don’t you do something like that for the sails?”
Adventure According to Humphrey Page 4