The house was empty when Elle got home from school; there was a note on the kitchen table. Mindy had gone shopping, presumably for some more old tires to cook for dinner, and grandpa was at his weekly Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. He wasn’t an alcoholic, but he enjoyed introducing himself to new people and giving encouragement and advice to others (and the cookies and coffee were a nice bonus, too), and Mindy enjoyed having him out of the house, so it was a win-win.
Elle had the whole house to herself. She took the opportunity to gorge herself on all the forbidden, unhealthy snacks that she could lay her hands on: Jello, ice-cream, potato chips, cookies. Then she fell into a sugar-induced stupor on the couch.
She felt horrible. And somehow, the junk-food binge wasn't helping her mood. She sighed and rolled over on the sofa, pulling a pillow over her head. Then she piled more pillows and cushions on top of herself, forming a nice, cozy cave. Maybe she could hide under the pillows and never have to go to school again. It might work. Grandpa and Mindy would probably never ever find her. Mindy would be glad to be rid of her, and her grandpa would probably forget about her. She would probably die in this pillow fort, and no one would miss her. In a way, she would rather die than go back to Middle School.
Just as she thought this, she remembered the poor little dead frog outside. She still needed to give it a burial. Grandpa- that is, the high priest- was still gone, but Elle decided to do it herself. Besides, without a blow-torch, it was pointless to try to open the little box again.
With some effort she excavated herself from the pillow fort and wandered outside to the patio to look for the upside-down bucket and rock paperweight. It had rained all day, and the cement patio, with its poor drainage, had collected almost a half-inch of water. Elle looked for the bucket, and found it about 5 feet away from where she had set it last night. The strong winds must have blown it during the night.
Suddenly, to her amazement, the bucket MOVED. Elle nearly wet herself when she saw the bucket rise a few inches into the air and then fall back down onto the wet cement. She watched, fascinated, as it wobbled from side to side and then suddenly--JUMPED. Something under the bucket was moving!
With shaking hands, Elle reached forward to remove the heavy stone from on top of the bucket, when suddenly the stone flew high into the air, nearly smacking her in the nose. She quickly stepped back, ducking as the rock made its descent. It crashed to the ground on the soft wet grass nearby with a small splash. Elle stared back at the bucket, eyes wide.
She bent over slowly, just in case the bucket also decided to fly into the air. She touched it, but it didn’t move, so she bent over and slowly raised it. Underneath, sitting as demurely as a well-trained dog, was the little frog, looking up at her with bright black eyes. Elle couldn’t believe it—it was ALIVE!!
Somehow the little guy had come around! Elle realized that he must have been asleep or hibernating when she had found him, and a wave of guilt washed over her as she thought about what she and grandpa had almost done last night: They had almost buried the poor guy alive! She was just as bad as the ancient Egyptians, after all!
Getting on her hands and knees, Elle examined the frog and couldn’t help but notice that there was something different about it. Obviously, it was alive now--but it was also a different color. Instead of somber green, it was now a vibrant light kiwi green.
It looked at her with giant, lively black eyes and cocked its head to one side, as if it was just as curious about her as she was about it. Suddenly, its long tongue snapped out and it licked its right eyeball. Elle leaned back, and the little frog steadily watched her. Then it licked its left eyeball. Elle had the ridiculous feeling like it was silently studying her.
At that moment, she heard the front door slam inside. “Elle! We’re home!” Mindy called from the house, “Hey--who messed up all these pillows?"
Elle bent down and scooped up the little frog. Its skin was smooth, dry and warm, unlike the cold and limp body she held last night. Elle felt a little zing of energy shoot down her arm as she picked it up, but the little frog didn’t even struggle in her grasp, just gazed up at Elle through dark eyes.
Elle walked into the kitchen and held the frog up proudly. “It’s alive,” Elle said, triumphantly.
Mindy gaped at it, speechless.
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“Wow! Now that’s what I call a survival strategy!” Grandpa said, impressed. “This reminds me of the time we thought that joker Lazarus was dead…boy did we all have a good laugh!”
“What is that thing?” Mindy finally found her voice, cutting Grandpa’s monologue short. She was eyeing the creature with a mixture of disgust and annoyance.
“I don’t know, but it’s not like anything I’ve ever read about,” said Elle, taking a big breath, ready to launch into a scientific diatribe on everything she had read about amphibians.
“That’s because it’s a Super-Evolved species!” Her grandpa said, winking at Elle.
“No-absolutely not. We’re not keeping that in the house,” said Mindy. “It’s a wild animal! It could be dangerous!”
Everyone looked at the little frog sitting calmly in Elle’s hand. It looked about as dangerous as….well, a little frog sitting calmly in your hand.
“It could be contagious!” Mindy added.
“Yes, that’s true,” grandpa chimed in. “You wouldn’t want to catch “Frog Fever”… happened to me once. Of course, it was much, much, worse when I caught leprosy. My nose fell clean off! They had to stitch it back on—took over a hundred stitches!”
“Remember what happened to the last “pet” that you had, Elle?” Mindy said, talking over grandpa.
“That was purely accidental,” Elle said, defensively.*
(*The last time Elle had a lizard it had an unfortunate encounter with the neighbor’s cat. Poor little Lizzy was far beyond CPR by the time anyone found him. It was an incident that was better off forgotten.)
“Besides, we can’t just abandon it! It looks like it's not from around here—it's probably a really rare species of frog,” she said. (Of course, Elle neglected to tell them that she had found it in a strange black box, which maybe would have bolstered the current evidence that it wasn’t from around this area.) “And it might not survive the forest on its own,” she added (she also chose to ignore the fact that it had just miraculously come back to life, which seemed to argue against the idea that it had survival problems).
“Fine. Take it down to the Humane Society in town and see if they can find someone who wants it. We have our hands full right now,” Mindy said, her eyes flicked toward Grandpa, who was trying to find the scars from where his nose had been stitched back on. “Besides, we're getting ready for our garage sale this afternoon, remember? We absolutely can’t have a pet right now,” she said.
“But…” Elle began.
“I doubt the Doctor would think it’s a good idea,” Mindy said, looking emphatically at Elle.
Elle was quiet for a while. Her aunt had dropped the D word. Anytime she wanted Elle to behave, all she had to do was mention "The Doctor." They both knew that if a medical professional got anywhere near Grandpa, he would be slapped with a diagnosis of dementia faster than you could say "frog fever." And that meant Aunt Mindy could ship him to any nursing home of her choice. Whatever happened, Elle wouldn’t let that happen. Fine, you win this round, Mindy, Elle grumbled to herself, keeping mental score.
Mindy 1; Elle 0
Elle grudgingly pulled her bike out of the garage, jammed her helmet on and gently set the frog in the wicker basket at the front of the bike. The small frog hadn’t moved throughout the whole exchange, and except for occasionally licking its eyeballs thoughtfully, it seemed to be content sitting in one spot wherever Elle set him. As soon as she set him down, the feeling of warmth left her hands, as though she had plunged her hands in a bucket of cold water.
Elle slowly biked down the gravel path on the hill leading into town. She was bitterly sad, an emotion that was becoming all too familiar. She glanced down and saw the frog standing up on its hind legs looking out of the basket at the trees flashing past. It's long tongue hung out of the corner of it's mouth, looking as happy as a dog with it's head out the window. Elle’s melancholy was only deepened by the fact that the little guy seemed to be enjoying itself so much, completely oblivious to their destination.
When Elle pulled up alongside the curb by the Humane Society in downtown, the frog was still surveying its surroundings with an oddly intelligent air. There was something incredibly intriguing about the little frog, but, thanks to “Captain No-Fun,” Elle would never find out what that was.
Elle chained her bike to the nearest light pole. As she straightened up, she couldn’t help but notice that the frog seemed to be staring intently at the Humane Society building.
"I'm sorry, buddy," she said, glumly. "I gotta take you in there. Gotta say goodbye." She reached for the frog and then heard a chirping noise nearby. She looked behind her, but there was nothing there. She shrugged and gently picked up the frog.
Suddenly, a small, clear voice said, “Salve, Amica.”
She startled and glanced up and down the half-deserted sidewalk, searching for the source of the voice. The sidewalk was deserted, except for an elderly man at the bus stop a few yards away, but the voice had sounded much closer. And much more familiar.
Elle stared at the man until he got uncomfortable and quickly walked to the other side of the street. She glanced up and down the block one last time and then shook her head as if to dislodge an unpleasant thought.
At that moment, the frog leapt out of her hands and landed lightly on the sidewalk on all four feet. Then, incredibly, it rose a few feet into the air, as if floating on an invisible cloud. The frog glanced at Elle and licked its left eyeball. Elle watched with amazement as it's skin turned a bright yellow color. Then the floating yellow frog turned and hovered in the opposite direction, away from her.
The frog was hovering! On thin air! Its little, tiny body weaved between the cars parked on the street and shot towards the opposite curb. The elderly bus-stop man took one look at the little yellow levitating frog and quickly crossed the street again, grabbing for his cell phone.
Once a safe distance away, the frog turned and looked back at Elle and nodded. Then it hovered away.
Elle was dumbfounded. Had the tiny yellow frog really just nodded at her? And surely it wasn’t actually hovering? Elle was pretty sure that frogs usually hopped, not hovered.
Elle regained command of her own two feet and took off after the frog. She was careful not to dart into traffic, but after a few blocks, she realized that she should have taken her bike. The little frog was faster than she thought would be possible, especially for someone that was supposed to be dead yesterday. She was slightly embarrassed to realize that she was being completely outdistanced by the little guy. The way things were going, she didn’t have a prayer of catching up to him.
Just as she stopped to catch her breath and clutch at the stitch in her side, Elle caught sight of the frog turn into an open doorway on the main street. Elle glanced at the sign over the store: “Dave’s Diner.” Elle chuckled to herself. It would definitely be trapped inside. She had him! Ah-HA! Now who's the super-evolved one?!