It was a hamster! Well, sort of. It looked like a hamster, but it was kind of green around the edges. And its eyes were odd. They were big and red and staring, like it had been watching too much TV. Joe looked closer and realized it was chewing the laces of his sneakers.

“Hey! Stop that!” he said, annoyed.

The creature froze, blinking in the light. Joe reached out to grab it, but just then it gave a loud ACHOOO! and sneezed all over his hand.

Hamster snot! YUCK! Joe wiped his hand on an old sock that was lying on the floor.

Then it sneezed again—an even bigger sneeze this time—and one of its eyeballs shot out!

“Rats!” squeaked the creature. “I hate it when that happens! Shine your flashlight that way a bit, so I can find it.”

Joe gasped. Was he losing his mind, or had the hamster just spoken?

“Got it!” squeaked the hamster, grabbing its missing eyeball. It dusted off the eyeball and shoved it back in place. “My name’s Dumpling, and I need your help!” The hamster waddled out from under the bed and bowed low. (Well, as low as his big belly would allow.) “You’re Joe, the Keeper of the Amulet of Anubis, aren’t you?”

“I . . . um . . . ,” Joe stammered.

But the strange-looking hamster was already distracted. He sniffed the air. “Chips! I smell chips!” he said, rubbing his belly hungrily. Dumpling waddled over to Joe’s book bag. He rifled through the contents, pulled out an empty bag of sour-cream-and-onion chips, and peered inside. “Crumbs!” he said, tipping the bag up and emptying it into his mouth. As the final crumb disappeared down his gullet, Dumpling let out a huge stinky BURP!

“Ugh!” groaned Joe. “That’s disgusting!”

“Onions always do that to me,” squeaked Dumpling, tossing away the empty bag and wiping his greasy paws on his tummy. “Now, where were we? Oh yes—you’re Joe, the Keeper of the Amulet of Anubis, which means you’ve got to help me.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you’ve got the amulet, and I’m undead!” The hamster closed its eyes and stuck out its tongue, making a “corpse” face. “I need your help before I can cross over to the afterlife. Otherwise I’ll be stuck here on earth—forever!”

Joe rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t really be talking to a zombie hamster . . . could he?

“You see,” squeaked Dumpling, “I’ve got unresolved issues.”

Joe frowned. “Unresolved what?”

“Unresolved issues—you know: problems, worries—and I can’t rest in peace until they’ve been dealt with.”

Joe gulped. He must be having some sort of crazy dream. Any minute now Mom would shout “Breakfast!” and it would all be over.

Dumpling waddled toward him. “The person who possesses the Amulet of Anubis has a duty to help undead pets like me. Anubis is the protector of the dead, and you wished for a pet on his stone, so you’ve kind of volunteered for the job.”

“Now, wait a minute,” said Joe, suddenly feeling a bit annoyed. Wishing for a pet was one thing, but helping zombie hamsters with their “unresolved issues” was another matter altogether!

But the hamster didn’t seem to be listening. It picked up a pen from the floor and took a bite.

“Put that down!” cried Joe.

“I always eat when I’m anxious—I can’t help it.” Dumpling frowned. “You see, I’m worried that Oliver, the boy who owned me, will be sad without me.” He took another bite out of the pen. “And I’m not even sure his parents told him what happened to me—how I died, I mean. What if Oliver blames himself for my death?”

“Hang on,” said Joe, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. “Why would he do that?”

Dumpling was about to finish off the pen when Joe made a grab for it. But as he did, the furry creature sneezed, and a hail of snot, pen bits, and chip crumbs splattered onto Joe’s hand.

“Ugh! Gross!”

Dumpling shrugged. “I can’t help it! It’s the dust that makes me sneeze—my fur’s full of it.” To prove his point, the hamster jumped up and down, and a huge cloud of dust formed around him.

This time Joe sneezed. “Stop it! Stop it!”

“Don’t you want to know why I’m so dusty? It’s a very sad story.”

“No, I don’t want to know why you’re so dusty,” said Joe irritably, rubbing his nose.

But as he spoke, Dumpling the hamster sneezed again, blasting Joe with another shower of snot.

Joe gritted his teeth. “Look,” he said as politely as he could, “I think maybe you should leave. You know—go off to hamster heaven, or wherever it is dead pets hang out.”

“I’ve already told you,” squeaked Dumpling angrily. “I can’t! I’m an undead pet, and I’m not going to be dead until you’ve helped me!”

“I can’t help you,” said Joe.

“But you must! You’re the Keeper of the Amulet of Anubis! You’ve got to help me make sure Oliver is okay—and that’s that!” The hamster folded its little front legs and scowled at Joe.

Joe had had enough. “Well, we’ll see about that!” He picked up the amulet, which was still lying on his bedside table, and marched over to the window. He slid it open, muttered, “Sorry, Uncle Charlie,” and threw the amulet out into the night.

“There!” he said. “I’m no longer the Keeper of the Amulet, so you can go and bother someone else!” And with that he climbed back into bed and turned off his light.

“If you’d just listen to my story . . . ,” whined the hamster.

“No!” Joe pulled the covers up over his head.

“But you must!”

“No!” Joe yelled again. “And stop talking! Go to sleep or something.”

“Sleep?” Dumpling squeaked. “Don’t you know anything about hamsters? We’re nocturnal. I’ll be wide awake all night.”

Joe sighed and buried his head under his pillow.

“Stop messing around!” squeaked the hamster. “I need your help, and I need it now!”

Joe groaned.

“GET OUT OF BED AND HELP ME!”

Joe peeked out from under the pillow to find Dumpling standing at the end of his bed looking very annoyed.

Joe reached out, grabbed a dirty sock from the floor near the bed, and threw it at from the floor near the bed, and threw it at the hamster. “Put a sock in it!” he snapped.

THWACK! The hamster toppled off the end of the bed with an angry squeak.

For a moment or two there was blissful silence, but then Joe heard a familiar munching sound. Dumpling was doing exactly as he’d been told. He was putting a sock in it—in his mouth, to be precise! “Mmmm,” he mumbled. “Tasty!”

Joe sighed and pulled the pillow back over his head.