by Jim Benton
“Meh,” she said. “It’s probably my fault.”
“Scientists have shared this sketch,” the newscaster said. “They believe that the illness may have started with this toad, which seems to have been infected with a highly contagious virus.”
Igor recognized it as the toad Franny had created. He ran to look in the bowl where she’d kept it. She had broken the bowl during her tantrum, along with the test tube that had held her virus.
“Yes, Igor,” she said with a yawn. “I’m way ahead of you. That escaped toad of mine must have caught that virus I created and it mutated. I’ve probably accidentally released a horrible thing into the world. I suppose it’s going to end pretty badly.
“Sometimes I wonder if leaving weird viruses just lying around might not be a good idea.”
Igor held up the broken bowl the toad had been kept in.
“Look—lots of things I make can be an eensy-weensy bit life-threatening. That’s just the way it is.”
The TV began to show scary pictures of people turning into toads.
“See? You see there?” she said, pointing weakly at the screen. “They look just like my toad. Yes, this is definitely my fault.”
But Franny wasn’t scared.
The TV showed pictures of people crying about their families turning into toads.
But Franny wasn’t sad.
And when the reporter said that the illness was “toadly awful,” she didn’t laugh.
Franny wasn’t silly anymore.
“Igor, hand me the remote,” she said.
Franny took the remote from Igor’s wet, warty green hand.
“What’s the deal with your hand?” she asked. “You should probably switch to a different soap.”
But it wasn’t the soap. Igor had caught the disease. He, too, was beginning to transform.
“Igor, don’t take this the wrong way,” Franny said, “but EWW.”
Franny got up from the couch and hopped over to her refrigerator.
“That’s weird,” Franny said. “When did I start hopping?”
A fly went past, and for just a moment Franny thought about snatching it out of the air with her tongue.
“I guess I’m turning into a toad too,” she said, and shrugged. “Just like the rest of the world.”
Igor stared at her with big, terrified eyes, which were beginning to look a bit toady.
“Oh well,” she said. “That’s how it goes sometimes, with these worldwide toad diseases.”
“Oh, no it’s not!” a little voice called out. “That’s NOT how it goes.”
Franny looked around.
“Where is that voice coming from?” she asked.
“I’m in here,” the voice said.
“Somebody is in the Mixer-Upper,” Franny said, and she opened the door.
A small, determined-looking version of Franny stepped out.
“How did you get in there?” Franny asked.
“Angry-Fran told you there were more than four feelings. I was still in there, but you shut the door on me.”
“Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“I’m pretty quiet until I have a reason to speak up.”
“Who are you?” Franny asked.
“I’m your sense of duty,” she said.
“Did you say ‘doody’?” Franny asked. “Because if I still had a silly side, I might laugh at that.”
“Not ‘DOODY.’ I’m your sense of DUTY. It’s spelled d-u-t-y. I’m the feeling you have when you know that you just have to do something, even if you don’t really feel like doing it.”
“I don’t really feel much of anything,” Franny said.
“Well, I do,” Duty-Fran said forcefully. “And I’m afraid we don’t have much time.”
“You’re kind of pushy,” Franny said.
“Well, yes. That’s kind of my whole thing,” Duty-Fran said. “Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?” Franny asked.
“We’re getting all your parts back together,” Duty-Fran said. “You might say that we’re going to herd your feelings.”
Duty-Fran grinned broadly at Franny, who looked back at her with no expression.
“Your silly side would have thought that was funny,” Duty-Fran said.
CHAPTER NINE KEEPING YOUR FEELINGS TO YOURSELF
Franny put some horrifying traps and chains on the table.
“What are these for?” Duty-Fran asked.
“To catch them,” Franny said, adding a strange device to the pile. “This is a paralyzing ray. After I blast them, we can stick them in this bag.”
“No, no, no,” Duty-Fran said, shaking her head. “I’m afraid your lack of feelings has made you a little heartless. We can just talk to them.”
“I have a device you can strap onto your mouth that will make your voice painful to listen to when you talk. Will that help?” Franny asked.
“Maybe some other time,” Duty-Fran said. “For now we’ll just talk regularly.”
As they headed outside, they passed a toad hopping around in the kitchen.
“I guess that’s my mom,” Franny said. “I’ll bet that’s why nobody stopped me from watching TV all week.”
“What?” Duty-Fran cried. “YOUR MOM? That’s terrible!”
“I’ll have to take your word for that,” Franny said. “Because I’m really not feelin’ it.”
“We have to hurry!” Duty-Fran said, pulling Franny along by the wrist.
They soon found Angry-Fran out behind the garage, breaking bottles.
They watched as she picked one up, smashed it, and then yelled at it for breaking so easily.
“You deserve to be broken!,” she yelled at it. “I wish I had broken you a long time ago.”
Duty-Fran stepped up.
“We need you to come with us,” she said.
“Forget it. I like being out here on my own, expressing my feelings—I only have the one, but I like to express it.”
“Okay,” Duty-Fran said. “We wouldn’t want to make you mad.” And they started to walk away.
“Wait. I don’t mind being mad,” Angry-Fran growled.
“Yes, of course, but this is the type of thing that will really make you lose it.”
“I’m all about losing it,” Angry-Fran said. “You wouldn’t believe the things I can lose it over. One time I couldn’t find my gum, and I went NUTS. Over gum!”
“Fine,” Duty-Fran said. “Follow us.”
“The next feeling might be harder to find,” Duty-Fran whispered to Franny. “They won’t all be as loud as bottle-smasher here.”
“Do we really have to do this?” Franny groaned. “When you think about it, not doing things is so much easier. And it’s faster, too.”
“We must do what we must do,” Duty-Fran said.
Soon they found Sad-Fran in the yard behind some bushes. She was blowing bubbles and crying when they popped.
“I never really got to know that bubble,” she sobbed. “It was over so quick.”
“Did you see some puppy toys out here?” Duty-Fran asked her.
“Puppy toys? No. Why?”
“We have a bunch of tiny, chubby puppies that have lost their favorite toys,” Franny said, immediately understanding what Duty-Fran was planning.
“They must be miserable!” Sad-Fran said hopefully.
“Might be the saddest thing I ever saw,” Duty-Fran said. “And they’re pretty chubby. Well, we’ll see you later.”
They began to walk away when Sad-Fran trotted up next to them.
“Could I see the puppies?” she asked.
“They’re too sad,” Franny said.
“And chubby,” Duty-Fran added.
“Well, actually,” Sad-Fran began, “I really feel my best when I feel my worst.”
“If you must,” Duty–Fran said. “But you’ll probably cry your eyes out.”
“I can’t wait!” Sad-Fran said as she clapped her hands and bounced along behind them.
“These two were easy,” Duty-Fran whispered to Franny. “But I have no idea how we’re going to get Silly-Fran to come along. This could take some time.”
“I think I know,” Franny said.
They found Silly-Fran under a tree by the side of the house.
“What are you doing?” Duty-Fran asked her.
“I’m digging a hole,” Silly-Fran said.
“What for?” Franny asked.
“Holes are good for keeping stuff in,” Silly-Fran said.
“Like what?” they asked her.
“Well, for starters, I’m going to need a place to put all this dirt I dug up,” Silly-Fran said. “And I think it’s going to fit perfectly in there.”
Franny handed her a doughnut.
“I need you to put this on your head,” Franny said. “Stick out your tongue and follow us, but walk backward.”
“That makes total sense to me,” Silly-Fran said, and off they went.
“How did you know what to do?” Duty-Fran asked her.
“I just used the only thing that made sense,” Franny whispered. “Nonsense.”
“I’m glad to see that you’re feeling ready to get to work on this,” Duty-Fran said.
“I don’t really feel anything at all,” Franny said. “I just want to be done so I can go lie down and become a toad.”
Duty-Fran scowled. “Only one more to go,” she said, and she noticed that Franny was starting to look a bit more toadish. “And there’s not much time.”
“Scaredy-Fran should be easy,” Franny said.
“Don’t be so sure. Fear is often the hardest feeling to overcome,” Duty-Fran said.
CHAPTER TEN NOTHING TO FEAR BUT FEAR ITSELF, WHICH, LET’S BE REAL, IS PRETTY SCARY
They looked everywhere for Scaredy-Fran and couldn’t find her.
“She’s hiding,” Duty-Fran said. “And we’re running out of time. Can that dog of yours sniff her out? Dogs can smell fear.”
“He seems to be mostly toad now,” Franny said. “And you know he was never really all dog to begin with. He’s part Lab, part poodle, part Chihuahua, part—”
“Yes, yes, a weaselly thing,” Angry-Fran interrupted. “We’ve heard this a jillion times.”
“So what do you suggest we do?” Duty-Fran asked.
“I’ve given that a lot of thought,” Franny said. “I think the best thing we could do is—just give up. I mean, maybe it will be okay to be a toad.”
Duty-Fran gasped.
“You’re just saying that because you’re missing some important feelings. Normally, this would make you mad, or sad, or scared.”
“You’re right,” Franny said. “And it’s a good thing I got rid of those dumb things.”
“NO! Everybody needs feelings. They are troubling at times, but without them, people are a bunch of… toads, I guess—just sitting there staring blankly, not doing much of anything.
“And that’s going to make things very difficult when the ghosts arrive.”
“What ghosts?” Franny asked.
“The ghosts,” Duty-Fran said. “Yeah, they show up every time something like this happens.”
“What are you talking about?” Franny asked.
Duty-Fran raised her voice a bit. “THE GHOSTS. They always show up about now.”
Franny scoffed. “I’m not afraid of ghosts, you know. I mean, I was when I was little, but not anymore.”
“That’s because you don’t have a sense of fear. But I know somebody who does.”
Scaredy-Fran burst out from her hiding place in the closet.
“No! Not ghosts! Save me! Save meeeeeee!!!” she screamed.
“Come with us,” Duty-Fran said. “We know where you’ll be safe.”
Scaredy-Fran cuddled up next to them. “Okay. Let’s go,” she whimpered.
CHAPTER ELEVEN JUST PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER
Back in Franny’s lab, Duty-Fran was taking charge.
“Okay, Angry-Fran, get in the machine.”
“I thought you said you were going to show me something to make me mad,” Angry-Fran growled.
“You’re right. I did. But I was lying to you. I’ll bet that makes you mad.”
“SO MAD!” Angry-Fran shouted. “AND I REALLY APPRECIATE THAT!” And with a sneer, she walked into the Mixer-Upper.
“You’re next,” she said to Silly-Fran. “But you don’t need to go in there.”
“Why not?” Silly-Fran giggled.
“Because you’re already in there,” Duty-Fran said.
“No I’m not.”
“Check it out if you don’t believe me,” Duty-Fran said, and Silly-Fran walked in to take a look.
“Well? Are you in there?” Duty-Fran yelled into the machine.
“I sure am,” Silly-Fran said. “I guess you were right.”
“Hey,” Franny said. “You sure picked up that silly stuff quickly.”
“Duty makes you rise to the occasion, Franny. It makes you do things you didn’t know you could.”
Franny coughed.
“Oh no,” Duty-Fran said. “Are you feeling okay?”
“A slight cough. Nothing to worry about,” Franny said. “Just a little frog in my throat.”
“A little more than just your throat,” Duty-Fran said. “And look at your dog.”
Franny was transforming quickly, and Igor was almost all toad.
“Not much time left,” Duty-Fran said.
She grabbed Sad-Fran by the hand and led her to the machine. “I know I told you there would be puppies, but there aren’t.”
A tear rolled down Sad-Fran’s face.
“Are you disappointed?”
“Very,” Sad-Fran sobbed.
“Disappointment is a lot like sadness, right?”
“It’s close enough,” Sad-Fran sighed. “Thank you.” And she walked in.
“You might not want to watch this,” Duty-Fran said to Franny. “It’s not going to be very nice.”
“What are you going to do?”
Duty-Fran walked right up to Scaredy-Fran and pushed in close to her.
“I have something to show you, Scaredy-Fran.”
“Is it a spider or something like that? I’m not afraid of those.”
“Oh, it’s much scarier than that.”
“Like a monster?” Scaredy-Fran said. “I like monsters.”
“We grew up together. I know exactly what you like,” Duty-Fran said, her voice falling to a low, threatening growl. “And I know what scares you too.”
“You do? Okay. Let’s see what you have.”
“I’m going to show you. But first take this.”
She handed Scaredy-Fran a broom.
“A broom? Why would I be scared of a broom?”
“Because we told Mom that you’d clean your room, and she’s on her way up the stairs now.”
“There’s not enough time! Why would you tell her that? She’s going to be so mad!”
Scaredy-Fran jumped into the Mixer-Upper and trembled in the dark. Mom was pretty scary when you lied to her.
“You know who’s next, right?” Duty-Fran asked.
“You mean us,?” Franny asked, her voice a little toadier than before. “I was thinking about that.”
Duty-Fran crossed her arms. “What were you thinking?”
“I’m still not convinced I need those other feelings,” Franny said. “You and I can do everything by ourselves. Just brains and duty. Let’s ditch the other feelings.”
An old lady’s voice spoke from the corner, “That’s not going to work.”
It was Franny’s grandma.
“Granny Fran! How long have you been here?”
“Long enough to hear all I needed to,” she said. “It sounds like I didn’t do a very good job teaching you about soup.”
“What does this have to do with soup?” Franny asked.
“Each ingredient makes it better. You’re like a pot of soup. You need all of your ingredients.”
“But isn’t the soup good eve
n if it’s missing one or two ingredients?” Franny asked. “It doesn’t need every single little thing, does it?”
“Maybe not,” Granny Fran said, “but why wouldn’t you want to make the best soup you could?”
“Let’s look at it another way,” Duty-Fran said. “Think about puzzles like the ones Igor does.”
“They’re a waste of time,” Franny scoffed.
“Puzzles are complicated, and so are people. Both are made up of lots of little parts.”
“What’s your point?”
“My point is that if you want to see the whole picture, you need to put all those little parts together,” Duty-Fran said.
Franny thought about it.
“Yeah, I don’t know if that makes sense.…”
“SO JUST HURRY UP AND HOP INTO THE GIZMO, TOAD GIRL, BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE!” Granny Fran shouted.
Franny smiled.
“I never knew my granny and my sense of duty were so much alike,” she said. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
Franny tapped a few buttons, and she and Duty-Fran walked into the machine and shut the door.
“It’s too dark in here,” Scaredy-Fran whimpered.
“Not for long,” Franny said.
The machine started up and whirred. It dinged like a microwave, and out stepped Franny, all in one piece, but still looking pretty toady.
She hopped to her lab table. She was afraid that maybe she was too late to stop the toad virus, and she felt pretty silly for how she had acted.