Free Secrets According to Humphrey by Betty G. Birney Page B

26.
    But later, when the room was dark and the house was quiet, I thought I saw the ghost of King Tut in front of my cage.
    I was too scared to squeak.
    I raced into my sleeping hut and I didn’t come out until the next morning.
    HUMPHREY’S TOP SECRET SCRIBBLES
Kings and their treasures are quite nice BUT . . .
I
don’t
want to meet the ghost of King Tut!

10
    Whispered Secrets

    B OING-BOING-BOING!” Og greeted me when I returned to Room 26 on Monday morning.
    â€œYes, Og. I had a very nice time,” I replied. “Sorry, I can’t tell you everything, though, because part of it is a secret.”
    Og suddenly leaped into the water side of his tank and splashed loudly.
    â€œGoodness, Og, what’s going on ? ” Mrs. Brisbane asked as she came over to check on his tank.
    Og quieted down a little.
    Of course, I knew why he was splashing. He didn’t like that I was keeping a secret from him.
    Up until then, Og knew all my secrets—even the one about my lock-that-doesn’t-lock.
    He was feeling left out and I was feeling VERY-VERY-VERY guilty.
    When my classmates were at recess and Mrs. Brisbane left the room for a moment, I had to talk to him.
    â€œOg, I’ll tell you the secret. On Saturday, Small-Paul and Felipe came over for their secret club and they made a board game from ancient Egypt and I played, too. But Tall-Paul said if I told anybody, King Tut’s ghost would come after me,” I squeaked.
    Og let out a huge “BOING!”
    â€œBut I’m not scared of a silly old ghost,” I said. I crossed my toes because what I was saying wasn’t true. Just because I’d never seen a ghost didn’t mean there couldn’t be one.
    â€œBOING-BOING-BOING!” Og sounded worried.
    â€œAnd I’m not keeping secrets from you ever again,” I told him.
    â€œBOING-BOING!”
    â€œYou’re welcome,” I replied.
    A very happy-looking Mrs. Brisbane came back to Room 26, carrying some papers.
    â€œGet ready for some excitement, boys,” she said.
    I knew she was talking to Og and me, because we were the only boys there.
    â€œWHAT-WHAT-WHAT ? ” I asked.
    â€œYou’ll see,” she said.
    Then Mrs. Wright, the PE teacher, walked in.
    Mrs. Wright isn’t a bad human, but I’d like her a lot more if she didn’t have a big silver whistle hanging from her neck. Sometimes she actually blows that whistle and when she does, my small, sensitive ears quiver and quake.
    â€œMrs. Brisbane, there’s something very odd happening with some of your students,” she said.
    Mrs. Brisbane looked surprised. “What’s that ? ”
    â€œThey’re talking nonsense and waving their arms. Something’s wrong,” Mrs. Wright said.
    â€œWhich students ? ” Mrs. Brisbane asked.
    â€œOh, a lot of them,” Mrs. Wright said. “But not all of them. Whatever is going on, some of your students are being left out.”
    â€œI’ve noticed some of that behavior,” Mrs. Brisbane said. “But when I’ve asked about it, I haven’t gotten a straight answer.”
    â€œStudents on the playground need to play proper games,” Mrs. Wright said. “Please get to the bottom of this and stop this behavior now.”
    â€œI will,” Mrs. Brisbane said. “I definitely will.”
    Mrs. Wright fingered her whistle and I braced myself.
    Luckily, she decided not to blow it, which was a
big
relief to me.

    â€œClass, I need your help,” Mrs. Brisbane said when my friends were back from break. “I want someone to explain why you’ve been acting strangely lately. I’ve noticed it and Mrs. Wright has noticed it.”
    Nobody said a word.
    â€œI’ve seen some of you doing these odd movements and nodding, waving, muttering strange phrases,” she continued. “Would someone like to tell me what’s going on ? How about you, Thomas ?