The Rogue Hamster

By David E. Berg

Spyke the hamster never liked living cooped up in a cage. He managed to escape one day, much to the sorrow of his owner, Billy. He could never guess what destiny awaited him in the woods just outside of town. Billy, already preoccupied with growing up and entering a new middle school, worried in the meantime if he would ever see his beloved runaway pet again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 26, 2024
• ISBN: 9798823017329

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© 2023 David E. Berg. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  01/23/2024

ISBN: 979-8-8230-1733-6 (sc)

ISBN: 979-8-8230-1732-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023921400

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or

links contained in this book may have changed since publication and

may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those

of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher,

and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents,

organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products

of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Contents

Chapter 1     Visit to the Principle

Chapter 2     Runaway Hamster

Chapter 3     The Adventure Begins

Chapter 4     Billy’s Pain

Chapter 5     Hammie Disappears

Chapter 6     Who Let the Dogs Out?

Chapter 7     Billy’s Luck

Chapter 8     Spyke’s Journey

Chapter 9     A Much Needed Explanation

Chapter 10   A Trip to Middle School... And Good-Bye

Chapter 11   Arrival at Hamelot

Chapter 12   The Plan

Chapter 13   The Last Minute Dash

Chapter 1

Visit to the Principle

The small, quaint town of Wenonah hardly had a population of three thousand. It was one square mile and had a grand total of seven stores. It had no schools whatsoever, so the children of the town took buses to the neighboring town of Baddsborough. A single soccer field, a single baseball field, and but one basketball court provided recreational space for its citizens.

Tree City, USA was its nickname. The branches of pines, oaks, maples, poplars, beech, birch, and many others created ceilings over the street, making it seem like one would be walking through a tunnel. The almost surreal beauty was almost unparalleled. Coupled with the residents’ love of gardening, the town resembled a neatly trimmed jungle during the summer months.

It was a peaceful town. Baddsborough was not, however. The two towns were, due to an inexplicably shared postal code, often confused with each other. Three times the size and population, a notoriously high crime rate, and a series of cookie-cutter developments clearly made the town different. The children from this town were known to be rough around the edges. The only thing separating the two towns was a thin stretch of woods, in the middle of which sat an eerie lake.

People once swam in this lake. A chain link fence was erected around its perimeter. A lifeguard stand, storage shed, and dock decorated its shores, while a parking lot desecrated the woods between it and the back road behind it which linked Wenonah and Baddsborough. Rumors began to spread that the lake had no bottom. Perhaps some kids endeavored to swim down to it and never succeeded. Other rumors of strange glows emanating from beneath the surface at night became common local lore. Whatever the reason for these rumors, they began to make people wary of the lake. Later, the water was deemed unsafe due to the opening of a manufacturing plant nearby which polluted it, and the chain link gate was locked forever. Trees caught root in the cracks of the old blacktop and grew. Before long, the lake was securely tucked away in the safety of the woods.

Not even two blocks from these woods lived the Brube’s. Billy, an 11-year-old boy, lived there with his mother and father. He was well-liked, mostly. As in the case of every boy, there was one thing the other kids found funny: he still had a hamster.

This frustrated him. His pet, which he saw as no less cool than a dog or cat, even had a cool name, Spyke. What angered Billy even more was that despite how much Billy defended him, Spyke was still mean and vicious. He bit, clawed, and hated being held. So Billy dejectedly resigned to admiring him through the bars, all the while resenting him for being the cause of his own ridicule at school. Billy just didn’t know what to do.

It’s the name! his mother would say. You should have given him a normal name, like Hammie!

No, Mom! he would reply. Jon had a hamster named Hammie. He’s mean, and I don’t want to be anything like him!’ He was not at all a follower, and neither was Spyke. There were some rules, he had to follow, though, like going to school.

He was a good student, despite his loathing for school, and a moderate disliking of his teacher. Mrs. Shlashinger was a nice woman overall, but had a tendency to believe the word of a girl over a boy’s. Billy couldn’t understand this. He didn’t lie or make up stories, despite the fact that he’d seen girls doing this, but for some reason, Mrs. S would still favor them. Perhaps, he thought, it was just in his head; that he perceived this to be true. Still, it could be possible that he was just poor at communicating his point of view. Whatever the case, as he sat in the class, his mind wandered everywhere but to the topic being taught.

Now class, said Mrs. S in science class that afternoon, don’t forget that rodents have to gnaw on wood to keep their teeth the right size. The front two, the incisors, never stop growing.

Oh! The word cut through the air, gathering the classes attention. So that’s why Billy’s hamster bites him!

At this, the entire class erupted into laughter.

Yeah? Billy yelled over the ruckus. Well, your dog is dumb!

The look of shock on his aggressor’s face, along with the shift of the laughter’s direction, was immediately gratifying. However, when the girl looked at Mrs. S and began to cry, the gratification was replaced by fear. Billy knew what was coming next.

How dare you use that kind of talk in my class! said Mrs. S, her volume rising.

But she-

I believe Principal Lawrence will have something to say about this.

Mrs. S, I-

March!

Billy sat for just a moment and glared. His heart was pacing, his forehead felt hot and his hands were clenching into fists. With a solid Hmph!, he forcefully pushed back his chair and began his trek to the principal’s office.

When he got there, Principal Lawrence was standing