Friendship According to Humphrey (7 page)

BOOK: Friendship According to Humphrey
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(I’m happy to say those two items were not as heavy as the others.)
When the girls came back, Miranda would find Abby’s belongings on her own pillow. Abby would find Miranda’s things on her own pillow.
I scurried back to my cozy cage and closed the door behind me. I wanted to be safe when the fireworks began!
 
“Little friends may prove to be great friends.”
Aesop, writer of fables
7
Fright Night
A
bby entered first, plopped down on her bed as usual, and sighed a big sigh.
“THAT was fun,” she said. “Especially when the baby spit up in the restaurant.” I don’t think she was actually talking to me, but I listened anyway.
A second later, Miranda came in. “Hi, Humphrey. Did you miss me?” she asked, bending down close to my cage.
“Of course!” I squeaked.
“I suppose you understand what it’s saying,” Abby said sourly.
“Sort of,” said Miranda. “I think he’s trying to tell me he missed me.”
Bingo!
I watched Abby closely as she reached for her diary and pen. “Where’s my pen?” she asked. She looked at her pillow. “What’s this stuff doing here?”
Miranda pointed at Abby’s bed. “Hey, that’s my hair scrunchie!”
So that’s what the hair thing is called!
“And my ring!” Miranda jumped up, crossed over the imaginary line and grabbed her things. “You took them!”
Abby spotted something on Miranda’s pillow. “There’s my pen! You took it! And my name bracelet!” She snatched her items and glared at Miranda. “You’re always taking my things.”
“You took
my
things! I never touched yours,” Miranda insisted. I never heard her sound that angry before.
Abby’s face turned red. “Why would I take your dinky ring and your stupid scrunchie? I have my own ring and my own scrunchie!”
“Why would I take your dumb pen and a bracelet with
your
name on it? And why would I put them on my pillow where you can see them?” asked Miranda.
“Just to be mean?”
“I’m not mean!” said Miranda. “Anyway, isn’t it weird that my things were on your pillow and your things were on my pillow?”
Abby thought for a moment. “Like somebody planned it.”
“Like somebody wanted us to notice,” agreed Miranda.
Suddenly, they were actually talking instead of arguing. I crossed my paws. This had to work!
Abby sat back down on her bed. “Who would do that? My mom wouldn’t. Or your dad.”
Miranda collapsed onto her bed. “Well, the baby didn’t do it.” She started to giggle.
“Maybe Humphrey did it,” said Abby, and she started to giggle.
I chuckled, too.
“Those things didn’t fly from bed to bed,” said Miranda. “Somebody put them there on purpose.”
“Or some
thing
,” said Abby. “Like a . . . a ghost!”
Miranda turned pale. “You don’t have ghosts here, do you?”
“No,” said Abby, shaking her head. “At least I don’t think we do.”
“There are no such things as ghosts,” insisted sensible Miranda. She sounded like she was trying to convince herself.
“NO-NO-NO, there aren’t any ghosts, except in stories,” I squeaked. I
know
I was trying to convince myself.
“I know,” said Abby. She opened her diary and tore out a page. “I’ll write down every possibility of who could have done this. Number one: Miranda.”
“I didn’t!” Miranda protested.
“I’m just writing down all the possibilities. Miranda, me, my mom, your dad, Ben, Humphrey. They’re the only ones in the house—right? Unless there was a burglar.”
The fur on my back stood straight up. Burglars are scary things!
“Burglars break windows and steal things,” Miranda pointed out. “The doors were locked, the windows were locked and nothing was stolen.”
“I’m writing all this down. Burglar. Ghost.” Abby quietly stared at the paper for a moment. “Would you swear you didn’t do it?”
“Of course,” said Miranda.
“And I’d swear I didn’t do it. Hey, wait a second! Maybe it
was
Humphrey!” Abby jumped up and walked over to my cage. She bent down and checked the door. “Nope. It couldn’t be him because his door is locked.”
Thank goodness that old lock-that-doesn’t-lock fools them every time!
“The only thing on the list that makes sense is a ghost,” she announced.
“But it doesn’t make sense,” said Miranda.
“I know,” Abby agreed.
The girls actually agreed on something. This was progress! They’d gone from not liking each other to being REALLY-REALLY-REALLY mad, to talking things over.
After a while, the girls left the room to have dinner. This time, they left together. When they came back much later, they were still together.
“Dad said it didn’t make sense,” Miranda was saying.
“And Mom agreed,” Abby replied. “What now?”
The girls flopped down on their respective beds. “I know,” said Abby. “Let’s stay up all night.”
“Why?”
“To see if any ghosts show up.”
I felt a chill creep down my spine. I knew I was the one who moved their things around. And I knew I wasn’t a ghost. But I still got a shiver thinking something SCARY-SCARY-SCARY just might show up.
 
“Lights out, ladies.” Mr. Golden stood at the door later that night, smiling. “Hope you have sweet dreams. You, too, Humphrey.”
“Thanks!” I squeaked back.
“Everybody all tucked in?” Amy appeared at the door, holding baby Ben.
“Yes, Mom.” Abby snuggled down in her bed and pulled up the covers.
“Good night,” said Miranda, pulling up her blanket as well.
The lights went out and it was DARK-DARK-DARK in the room, except for the night-light in the wall, which gave off a pink glow.
The girls were quiet for a few minutes. Then Abby whispered, “Are you awake?”
“Yes,” Miranda whispered back.
“Know any scary stories?” asked Abby.
I certainly knew a few. Like about the time Clem, the dog, almost ate me. Or the time Aldo first came in the room at night and I thought
he
was a ghost.
Miranda thought for a minute and said, “I remember one from camp.”
“Tell it,” said Abby. “But not too loud.”
Miranda—sweet Golden-Miranda—told a fur-raising tale about a hitchhiker who turned out to be a ghost. The way she told it was scarier than facing Clem!
“That was a good one,” said Abby. “I know one, too.”
Her story was even worse. It was about a group of kids who dared each other to go into a graveyard at night. One girl went in, saw a horrible face and died of fright. Recalling Og’s gruesome grin, I felt faint after that story!
“Abby?” Miranda whispered. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell any more scary stories. I’m feeling kind of weird.”
“Me, too,” said Abby. “Let’s be quiet.”
It was quiet all right. Maybe a little too quiet for a nocturnal fellow like me. Without thinking, I hopped on my wheel for some exercise. I guess that wheel needs oil, because it went
SCREEEECH!
When the wheel screeched, both girls screamed, “EEEEEE!” By the little pink light, I could see them leap from their beds and wrap their arms around each other.
The door abruptly swung open and the big light came on.
“EEEEEE!” the girls screamed again.
“It’s just me,” said Mr. Golden, rushing in. “What’s going on?”
He must have been as surprised as I was to see Miranda and Abby hugging one another for dear life.
“There was this terrible noise!” said Abby.
“Horrible,” said Miranda.
That was my cue to hop back on the wheel.
SCREEEECH!
All eyes were on me.
“You mean that noise?” said Miranda’s dad, pointing at my cage.
“That’s the one,” I squeaked.
Both girls started giggling.
“It was Humphrey,” said Miranda.
“I thought it was a ghost,” said Abby.
Mr. Golden laughed, too. “I think that ghost is pretty harmless,” he said. “Now, do you think you two—or you three—can get some sleep?”
They agreed and he tucked the girls into their beds.
“It’s good to hear you two laughing, but no more screaming, okay?” he said as he turned out the light.
The girls were quiet for a while longer and I stayed away from the wheel. I heard Abby whisper, “Miranda, could you sleep over here with me, just for tonight?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” said Miranda.
Miranda crawled into bed with Abby.
“Did you ever hear the story about the ghost in the attic?” Abby whispered.
“Tell it,” said Miranda.
And she did. I couldn’t have slept that night, even if I wasn’t nocturnal.
 
On Sunday morning, neither girl mentioned how the ring and the bracelet, the pen and the hair scrunchie all got moved. Neither girl mentioned an imaginary line, either. They did their homework at the desk, braided each other’s hair and made a maze for me to run.
And when they said good-bye on Monday morning, Miranda said, “See you in two weeks.”
Abby said, “Great!”
 
“All things are in common among friends.”
Diogenes, Greek philosopher
8
Ill Will
I
returned to school with a great sense of accomplishment.
But once I remembered where Og had spent the last two days, it was hard to concentrate on geography or math. I couldn’t help imagining all the fun Og must have had with the Brisbanes. I glanced over at my neighbor in his glass tank. With that horrible grin on his face, he looked like a jack-o-lantern. (Scary.)
It was VERY-VERY-VERY cold outside, which meant that the heat inside was turned way, way up. Whew! That must be fine for a cold-blooded amphibian, but I was wishing I could take off my fur coat. Then the warm air woke up the crickets, who started singing. And there was a SQUEAK-SQUEAK-SQUEAK that was not coming from me, but from Seth as he wiggled in his chair. It sounded like “Jingle Bells”: Squeak-squeak-squeak . . . squeak-squeak-squeak . . . squeak-SQUEAK-squeak-squeak-squeak! The squeaking made Gail giggle noisily, which made Mrs. Brisbane loudly shush her. I was looking forward to some peace and quiet during recess (knowing Og wouldn’t want to chat). But when the time came, Mrs. Brisbane announced that the class would stay inside. She brought out all kinds of interesting things to play with. I must admit, I wished I could get out of my cage and play along with the rest of the class.
Art and Richie built a tall tower out of tiny bricks while Kirk and Seth worked on a jigsaw puzzle. A.J. and Garth played a game where you slapped down cards. Heidi and Gail played another kind of game, moving little plastic men around a board. Mandy, Sayeh and Miranda came over to ask Tabitha to play with them. She didn’t even look up. She just shook her head.
“I don’t know why we even try to be friends with her,” Mandy whispered to the other girls.
Sayeh just sighed sadly. I knew how she felt.
“Og, can you hear me?” I squeaked. “I have something to ask you.” I figured even though I couldn’t understand him, maybe he could understand me.
“See how much fun it is to play with your friends?” I asked. It probably sounded like “Squeak-squeak-squeak,” but he could have at least responded with a “Boing!”
I decided to squeak up louder this time. I couldn’t even hear myself because of all the yelling.
Yelling?
I looked around to see who was making all that noise. It wasn’t Lower-Your-Voice-A.J. or Repeat-It-Please-Richie. It was Gail. She had stopped giggling and started shouting. The person she was shouting at was her best friend, Heidi.
“You cheated! I saw you!” she yelled.
“I didn’t,” Heidi said. “I wouldn’t cheat.”
“You must have. You always win. I’m never playing with you again, cheater,” Gail shouted.
Mrs. Brisbane quickly moved toward them. “Girls, please!”
“I didn’t cheat,” insisted Heidi. “I’m not a cheater.”
Gail put her fingers in her ears. “Did too, cheater, cheater, cheater!”
Everyone else in the class stopped playing and stared at the two girls. Mrs. Brisbane was right between them now. “Girls, please calm down and be quiet.”
Heidi and Gail were quiet, but they glared at each other angrily.
“Tell me what happened, Gail. Calmly.”
Gail wiped away some tears. “She was supposed to move her man five spaces and she moved it six spaces. That gave her a bonus jump and she won. She cheated!”
“Did not!” Heidi shouted. “I only went five!”
The teacher held up both hands. “Stop. I want you two to cool off before we talk about it. You’re such good friends, let’s work this out.”
“She’s not my friend anymore!” said Gail. She was crying harder.
“Thank goodness!” Heidi shot back. “Because I can’t stand you! Crybaby!”
“Cheater!”
Mrs. Brisbane shook her head. “Heidi, you go over there by Humphrey and Og,” she said firmly. “Gail, you go sit at my desk. Try and settle down.”
The girls did as they were told. I think they were glad to get away from each other. Soon, Heidi was leaning up against the table where Og and I have our homes.
“Crybaby,” she whispered so softly, only we could hear her.
It was hard for me to believe that Heidi would cheat her best friend. It was hard for me to believe that Gail would lie about Heidi. I thought friends always got along, no matter what.
“First, all she does is giggle. Now all she does is cry,” Heidi muttered.
At Mrs. Brisbane’s desk, Gail glared over at Heidi and wiped away a few more tears.
When recess was almost over, Mrs. Brisbane took the two girls out into the hall to discuss the argument. They came back in and quietly returned to their seats. But as soon as Mrs. Brisbane turned her back, I saw them stick their tongues out at each other. Maybe friendship wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
BOOK: Friendship According to Humphrey
10.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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