Authors: E. D. Baker
Tags: #Fiction, #Frogs, #Humorous Fiction, #Fairy Tales
The tingling began in my fingers and toes, then spread up my arms and legs. A shiver ran up my spine, chased by a golden, fuzzy feeling. Suddenly, my head felt light and full of bubbles. A tremendous wind rushed past me, knocking me to the ground. I covered my face with my arms, but my arms no longer felt real. When I tried to stand, my whole body shook, and a gray cloud filled my head.
I
opened my eyes and blinked. My head felt woozy; nothing would come into focus. Gradually my vision sharpened, but everything looked different somehow. The colors seemed brighter and there were more of them. An enormous butterfly flew past, its wings seesawing up and down through the air. It wore beautiful reds and shades of purple that I'd never seen before.
"Oh!" I said aloud, and flinched at the timbre of my own voice. It sounded strange in my ears and talking made my throat feel funny.
My nostrils flared at the sour smell of decaying vegetation and swamp muck. The leaves in the trees rattled loudly in the wind while the hum of a million insects nearly deafened me.
Thump!
Something heavy hit the damp soil by the edge of the pond.
Thump!It
came again, louder and closer. Heavy breathing filled the air.
I tried to stand, but my legs wouldn't cooperate. Still dazed, I looked down. The ground was much closer than it had been only a few moments ago; the clumps of dirt were larger as well. A pair of webbed feet and long, muscular legs stretched out in front of me. Puzzled, I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them to look again. The legs were attached to a short, plump body covered with mottled, green skin. My brain refused to acknowledge what my eyes told me. I lifted my hand and wiggled my fingers. Four green, crooked fingers twitched. Suddenly, I understood: I wasn't looking at some other creature. I was looking at myself!
"What's this? What's happened? How did this—" I babbled. My heart raced as panic set in. "I'm dreaming, that's it! I'm home in bed and I'm dreaming!"
Thump!
Whatever I'd heard before was coming closer. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my body to the ground. "I'm imagining this. If I ignore it, it'll go away," I said aloud. My mother had often derided me for having a vivid imagination, but this was too much even for me!
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Something large and wet pressed against my back, snuffling hot, smelly air from my head to my feet.
It's so real,
I thought, and opened first one eye, then the other. An enormous white dog with short, dirty fur loomed over me, studying me intently with its huge, red-rimmed eyes. My father's dogs were all brown or black or gray. This dog was a stranger to me and therefore all the more frightening. I shuddered as it pushed me with its nose, tumbling me over onto my side. It snuffled me once more, then opened its cavernous mouth wide. My stomach churned from the smell of the dog's breath. A big drop of hot, stinky slobber dripped onto my head.
This is not a dream,
I thought. With a convulsive twitch, I rolled to my feet and leaped as far and as fast as I could. My movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, but I leaped again and again, each time putting more and more distance between the dog and myself. One final leap, a half twist, and a flop, and I landed in the water with a splash.
"Frog!" said the dog as it belly-flopped into the water after me. "Come back! I need to talk to you!"
Too frightened to answer the dog, I flailed my arms and tried to get away. Although I'd grown up near the water, I had never learned how to swim. As clumsy as I was, I was sure that if I ever stepped in water that went higher than my ankles I would drown. I floundered, thrashing my arms and legs and going nowhere. The dog lunged for me again, creating a wave that washed me toward the middle of the pond. Drawing up my legs, I kicked hard and shot through the water, away from the dog and its crushing jaws.
It worked!
I thought, surprised at myself. I did it again. The water rushed past as I hurtled forward, barely missing a tiny sunfish. I twisted around and rose to the surface to look for the dog. Dashing back and forth in the shallow water at the edge of the pond, the beast was no longer a threat.
A wave of relief washed over me.
I
did it!
I thought.
I got away from that giant dog all on my own! I can do anything!
Gleefully, I twirled around in the water. I splashed from one side of the pond to the other, and when I grew tired of kicking, I ducked my head and blew bubbles. Floating on my stomach, I watched the minnows dart past in frenzied formation. I enjoyed every minute of it, delighting in the sensation of the warm water coursing against my skin. As a princess, I had never been able to go outside unencumbered by heavy fabric and long skirts. The new feeling of freedom was exhilarating!
Eventually, I rolled onto my back and gazed up at the wispy clouds high in the clear blue sky. I wondered what had happened to Frog. I hadn't seen him since my transformation. It occurred to me that maybe it was a trick. Maybe we had switched places and he was now a human. But how could that have happened without my seeing it? Besides, although he might be obnoxious, I didn't think he was sneaky.
I climbed onto a partially submerged log, and thought about all that had happened that day. In the excitement of my escape from the dog and the discovery of my newfound abilities, I hadn't really thought about what I would do next. I was alone in the swamp with no one to turn to. What was I going to
do?
Distraught, I hunched down and began to cry. I hated crying and almost never did. My mother had told me many times that a princess should never cry in public, but I knew that sometimes a person just couldn't help it. Large tears rolled down my cheeks and plopped onto the rough bark of the log. I was so miserable that I didn't notice Frog climb up beside me.
"W
hat's wrong?" Frog asked. He had to ask me twice before the question pierced my bubble of misery.
"Oh," I said, peering at him through tear-filled eyes. "It's you."
"I'm glad you're so thrilled to see me," Frog said. "But you still haven't answered my question. What's wrong? Why are you crying?"
"Isn't it obvious?" I asked. "I'm a frog and it's your fault! This wasn't supposed to happen. You said you would turn back into a prince. You never said I could turn into a frog!"
"What do I look like, a gypsy fortune-teller? No one ever told me this might happen. I'm sorry. I can't imagine why it did. But it's not so bad, you know. Being a frog, that is. I've been a frog for quite a while. It really does have its advantages."
"Oh?" I sniffled. "Like what?"
Frog shrugged. "You won't have to marry Jorge, for one. Life is less complicated as a frog. Why, I can do whatever I want to, like stay up all night or sleep all day. I don't have all the responsibilities or the worries that I used to have, either. You can't imagine how much of a relief it is not to be asked to slay a dragon or behead an ogre or shut down the troll extortion rings under the bridges, although I must admit that I was very good at all three. Now I only have to worry about finding enough food and being eaten."
"Those sound like pretty serious worries to me," I said.
"Not if you keep your wits about you and pay attention to what's going on. Which is something you need to learn to do."
"I guess I have been a little preoccupied."
"Do you think so? Come on! A dozen dragons could have landed here and toasted you for lunch and you wouldn't have noticed. You're lucky that I'm the one who climbed onto this log! But don't worry. I got you into this, so I'll teach you what you need to know."
"You don't have to teach me anything! Just undo whatever you did and turn me back into a princess!"
"I wish I could," said Frog. "Except I have no idea how to do it."
"Then you'll have to help me find out! I may not have been the happiest princess, but I don't want to spend the rest of my life as a frog! I can't believe this happened! At first I thought it was all a dream, but ... Say, where did you go, anyway? I didn't see you around when that dog came."
Frog shrugged his smooth green shoulders. "When you kissed me and I didn't become my handsome, princely self again, I admit I was a little upset. It took a while before I noticed that you weren't around anymore, at least as a human. By the time I realized what must have happened, that dog was there and you were hopping around like a lunatic. You disappeared, but it was easy to find you since everyone in the swamp was gossiping about the crazy talking female frog who couldn't swim any better than a newly hatched tadpole."
"I thought I swam quite well!" I said, remembering my pride in my newly learned skill.
"Maybe for a rank beginner."
I couldn't help it. My lip began to quiver.
"Don't do that!" he said. "This is fresh water and you're going to make it salty!"
Two big tears rolled down my cheeks. I sniffled louder.
"Now what's wrong?" Frog asked impatiently.
"Everything!" I wailed. "I've been trying so hard and I thought I was a good swimmer and now you tell me that I'm not and I'm a frog and I don't want to be and I'm scared and now on top of everything else I'm hungry!"
"Maybe if you kissed me again, you'd feel better," said Frog, leaning toward me.
"What?" I said, so surprised that I stopped crying. "Why would I want to do that?"
"It might cheer you up."
"I don't think so!"
"Well, then, maybe we'd be lucky and it would reverse the spell."
"And maybe we'd be unlucky and something worse would happen, although I can't imagine anything worse than being turned into a frog." I began to sniffle again.
"So!" Frog said quickly. "You said you're hungry. Now, that's something we can fix."
"What do you eat?" I asked, rubbing my eyelids with my fingers.
"Whatever comes along. Just watch me. You'll get the idea."
Frog hopped to the tip of the log and sat motionless. He sat still for so long that by the time he finally made his move, I'd become bored and fidgety and almost missed seeing what he did. A dragonfly about the length of a grown man's thumb zigzagged past the end of the log. Without warning, Frog leaped, opened his mouth, and flicked out his tongue. Before he hit the water, Frog had curled his tongue back into his mouth, dragging the dragonfly with it.
"You expect me to do that?" I asked incredulously when Frog rejoined me on the log.
"Only if you want to eat," Frog replied, licking his lips. "Look," he said, holding up the dragonfly's wings. "Aren't they beauties? If we were near my pad, I'd add them to my collection."
"You collect those things?"
"Are you kidding? I'm becoming quite an expert, if I do say so myself. My collection is probably the largest and most comprehensive in the world. Now look over there. See that big, juicy fly headed this way? Go ahead, I'll let you have it."
"I'm not eating a fly!" My stomach churned at the thought.
"You will when you get hungry enough. Watch me. I'll show you one more time."
"You can show me a million times, but that doesn't mean I'm going to do it. Isn't there anything else to eat besides bugs?"
"Hmm," said Frog. "I'll tell you what. I know a spot where there's lots to eat, but we're going to have to swim to get there."
"Fine with me," I said. "As long as I don't have to eat flies."
Frog grinned. "Stay near me and do what I do." He hopped to the edge of the log and plopped into the water. I followed close behind, worried that I might lose sight of him.
With Frog leading the way, we headed back downstream. Swimming with the current was much easier, and I was surprised at how quickly we reached the pond. Suddenly, Frog motioned for me to stop, and even though I couldn't understand why, I remembered my promise to follow his lead. Sneaking a look past him, I saw what he had already noticed. A hungry heron stood at the edge of the water, searching the reeds for a likely meal. The bird towered over us, with its long, sticklike legs going on forever. Placing his finger to his lips, Frog signaled me to be silent. I nodded and followed him around the opposite edge of the pond.
We dove deep, staying out of sight near the bottom, skirting the water weeds that grew thickly on the sunny side. We were still hiding from the heron when a shadow blocked the sun. I looked up to see a large dark shape gliding through the water over our heads. A golden circle dangled from its mouth, glistening in the morning light. Suspended from the circle, little shapes twinkled in a familiar way.... It was my bracelet! I lurched forward, determined to retrieve my property, but Frog grabbed my arm and held me still until the shape had passed out of sight.
Pent-up anger and frustration propelled me to the surface when Frog finally let me go. "Did you see that?" I asked after taking a quick breath of fresh air. "That big animal—what was it?"
"An otter," replied Frog.
"It had my bracelet—the one my aunt gave me! We have to find that otter! I need that bracelet and I have to get it back!"
"No, you don't. Don't you know anything about otters?"
"Of course I do. My aunt Grassina told me all about them; where they live, how they play ..."
"How they eat frogs ..."
"They eat frogs?" I squeaked.
"We're their favorite food."
Suddenly, our swim didn't seem quite so carefree. I looked around, half expecting to see hungry eyes watching us from the muddy bank. "There are lots of animals that like to eat frogs, aren't there?" I asked.
Frog nodded. "We're on nearly everyone's list of favorite foods. That's why you have to be on the lookout all the time."
"And my bracelet..."
"Gone for good, which is probably just as well. You wouldn't be able to carry it now anyway. Come on, we don't have much farther to go."
A short distance later, Frog led the way up the bank and across marshy ground to a small hill. A wild plum tree grew at the top; the ground around it was littered with rotting fruit. Green and black flies zipped from one overripe plum to another.
"This is the food you were talking about?"
"Sure is. Help yourself."
Although the plums didn't look very appetizing, I was convinced that they had to taste better than the flies. I hopped to the nearest plum and tried to find a spot that wasn't too rotten.
"There's a part at the top that doesn't look bad," said Frog.
"How do I reach it from here?"
"You're a frog. Use your tongue," suggested Frog.
"My tongue? I can't do that! Are you sure I can't use my hands?"
"Not if you really want to eat. You're a frog now and frogs use their tongues."
"I don't know. I'm not very coordinated ..."
"Don't be a tadpole! You can do it!"
"I'll try," I said doubtfully. I opened my mouth and uncoiled my tongue, flicking it toward the top of the fruit. The first time I did it, I didn't put enough energy into it and my tongue flopped onto the ground.
"Nice try!" said Frog, snickering behind his hand.
I glared at him as I tried to brush the dirt and grass off my tongue. Although I was very careful, I didn't get it all off, and it felt prickly when I pulled my tongue back into my mouth. Refusing to be discouraged, I tried again with all my strength. Unfortunately, I was too enthusiastic. My tongue hit the soft skin of the rotting fruit and continued on into the center of the pulp. When I tried to pull my tongue out, it wouldn't come. I jerked my head back, hoping to yank my tongue out that way, but it just made my mouth hurt. Frog was no help at all, standing off to one side, his stomach jiggling as he laughed at me. Finally, I grabbed hold of my tongue with both hands and pulled, jerking it out so fast that it flew back and hit me in the eye. I staggered, rubbing my head while Frog rolled on the ground, holding his sides and howling.
"Thanks for the encouragement!" I said once I had my tongue back in my mouth. "I thought you said you would never laugh at me. Now what do I do?"
"Try again!" he said. "I haven't laughed this hard in a long time!"
I thought about sticking my tongue out at him, something I'd seen Violet do to one of the pageboys, but because I seemed to have so little control over it, I was afraid I might actually hit him with it by mistake. "Turn around!" I said instead. "I can't do this while you're watching me."
Frog was still chortling when he turned to face the other way. When I knew he wasn't looking, I sidled over to another piece of fruit, not liking the taste of the first plum. This one was bigger and glistened with juice. It was also covered with flies. I flicked out my tongue again, and this time I did it just right, hitting close to where I was aiming. The fruit was squishy and tasted sour, although not as bad as the first one I'd tried, but when I pulled my tongue in, a fly was stuck to the tip. It was the most disgusting thing I had ever done.
"Yuck!" I shouted. "Ged dis ding oth my tongue!" The fly wriggled and buzzed, trying to get free. Frog was there in an instant, but all he did was poke my tongue with his finger. I gagged and my tongue snapped back into place. The fly buzzed loudly, tickling the roof of my mouth.
"Mmph!" I said, pleading for help from Frog.
"Blink!" he ordered.
"Mmph?" I said again.
"Don't think, just blink!"
I couldn't imagine what blinking had to do with the fly in my mouth, but I tried it anyway. I blinked. When my eyelids closed, my eyeballs pushed down on my throat, and I swallowed the fly. I shuddered when I realized what I'd done.
"Gross! Yuck!" I said, then spit until my mouth was dry.
"Good, huh?" asked Frog.
"Good? It was disgusting!" I wiped my tongue with my fingers, trying to get rid of the taste.
"Be honest, now. What did it taste like?"
"Horrible!"
"Really?"
"Well," I said reluctantly, "the plum was sour, but the fly was kind of sweet."
"Ah-hah!" said Frog. "I knew you'd like it! You may still be a princess at heart, but you're living in a frog's body, and frogs like flies!"
"I said it was sweet. I didn't say I liked it. Hey," I said, suddenly suspicious, "was this a trick? Did you bring me here so I couldn't help but catch a fly?"
"Would I do such a thing?" he asked. "Don't you know me better than that?"
"I hardly know you," I said, thinking that he might actually be a little sneaky after all.
Frog shrugged. "You couldn't go around acting all prissy and never trying anything new. You needed to see that eating a fly isn't so bad. You're going to have to get used to it if you're going to survive."
"Don't frogs eat anything other than flies?"
"Sure, lots of things. Gnats, mosquitoes, dragonflies. You name it—if it's an insect, it's on our menu."
"I'm doomed!" I moaned, but I remembered how the fly had tasted. It really hadn't been bad. Tilting my head to the side, I gave the flies an appraising look.
Frog smiled. "You ate one and it didn't kill you. Try another. It's an acquired taste, and the sooner you acquire it, the better off you'll be."