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

well.
    “And I can’t think of one single thing to do that would help either one of them, can you?”
    From Og: silence. This was not a good sign.
    I got out my notebook and decide to make a Plan. To make a Plan, it helps to make a list. So I wrote:
    PLAN TO HELP MIRANDA
    1.
    I stared at that
1
and stared some more. No matter how hard I stared at it, I couldn’t think of anything to write. The only way I could help Miranda would be to prove to Mrs. Brisbane and the whole class that she didn’t leave my door unlocked. And the only way I could prove
that
was to let everyone see that my lock-didn’t-lock. Which meant that someone would put a new lock on my cage and I’d never be able to get out again. I wouldn’t be able to have any more exciting adventures, and more important, it would be a lot harder for me to help my friends.
    I closed my notebook and went into my sleeping hut.I couldn’t sleep because every time I closed my eyes, I saw Miranda’s face in front of me.
    I couldn’t stand that for long, so I crawled out of my sleeping hut and went over to the side of the cage closest to Og.
    “I tried to make a Plan, but I didn’t get far.”
    Og sat there like the lumpy, bumpy frog he is and blinked his eyes.
    “That is, the only Plan I can think of would mean I’d be locked in my cage forever.”
    Og sat as motionless as the rock he was sitting on.
    “Well, you must have some ideas!” I was practically pleading with him now.
    He didn’t even look at me. But I’d learned an interesting fact in science class. Frogs can see all around them without moving their heads because they have 360-degree vision. That’s good because they don’t have much in the way of necks.
    “I know you can see me, Og. And I know you can hear me, even though you don’t have any ears that I can see. Are you ignoring me?”
    It appeared that he was.
    “Are you trying to think of a Plan, too?”
    Og jumped up and let out a very loud “BOING!”
    I was so startled, I jumped backward and hit my head on my wheel.
    Our strange conversation—which to humans would look like a Golden Hamster squeaking and a green frog twanging—ended abruptly when the door handle rattled,the lights came on and Aldo pushed his cart into the room.
    “I’m baaaack,” Aldo said. His greeting didn’t sound as warm and cheery as usual. In fact, he parked his cart in front of my cage and let out a loud yawn.
    “Sorry, fellows. I’m kind of tired tonight. I’ve been studying and writing papers and working and, aw, you don’t want to hear about my problems, do you?”
    “YES-YES-YES!” I squeaked. Because if your friends won’t listen to your problems, who will?
    Aldo pulled up a chair and took out his dinner. He yawned again. “I’ve been working and studying more than I’m sleeping, I guess. I’m beat.”
    After he chewed his sandwich in silence for a few minutes, he opened his bag. “Whoa, I must be tired. I almost forgot, Humphrey. Here’s a
tomahto
, thanks to Aldo
Amahto
.”
    It was a perfect plump cherry tomato, the kind that usually makes my whiskers wiggle with joy. But I’d been thinking so much about my problems, I didn’t feel much like eating.
    “Thanks,” I squeaked. Aldo didn’t notice that I was unusually quiet because he was yawning again.
    “You know, guys, I think I’ll take a short nap. I’ll work twice as fast if I can just rest my eyes for a few minutes, right?”
    To my amazement, Aldo rolled up his jacket, sat in a chair and, using the jacket as a pillow, put his head on the table and closed his eyes.
    He was sound asleep in a matter of seconds. He really must have been tired!
    It was quiet in Room 26 with only the TICK-TICK-TICK of the clock (which I couldn’t hear in the daytime) counting off each second.
    “Do you think he’ll sleep for a long time?” I squeaked to Og. “After all, he has work to do.”
    Og dove into the water and went for a swim. Big help he was.
    Aldo looked peaceful, dozing there. Still