“I can’t believe I failed,” she mumbles.
So that’s it. F is for Failed.
Mrs. Brisbane tells her she can take the test again. If she passes and if she brings in a paper signed by her parents, she can take Humphrey home for the weekend.
Everybody always wants to take Humphrey home for the weekend, but so far, Mrs. Brisbane is the only human who has taken me home.
I wonder if that will ever change.
The Great Unknown
I loved old Uncle Chinwag’s tales of olden days in the swamp and about green frogs who had ventured to the Great Unknown outside of McKenzie’s Marsh. Most of those stories don’t have hoppy endings, though, because the explorer was never seen again! All except for Sir Hiram Hopwell . . . who always returned to share his exploits. I loved those tales of adventure, but I never thought I’d go to the Great Unknown myself. Or that the Great Unknown would be a school!
* * *
Miranda is sad that she lost her animal keeper job. Mandy is worried about her F. And I still haven’t explored one bit of the human world. So, what will the rest of the week bring?
Things start out well, as Humphreyville is beginning to look like a real town.
But things turn sour when Mrs. Brisbane suggests that Paul help Mandy with her math so she can improve her test scores.
I hear Mandy mutter something about Paul being a know-it-all and being a baby! I’m not even sure how you can be both.
Art rushes to Paul’s defense. “He is not!” he tells Mandy.
“Why would you say such a cruel thing?” the teacher asks.
Mandy hangs her head as she says she’s sorry.
And then Mandy admits the truth. “I guess . . . Paul’s so smart, he makes me feel . . . dumb.”
“You are not dumb, Mandy. No one in this class is dumb,” Mrs. Brisbane says.
Mandy is miserable. But dumb? Dumb is an owl that doesn’t give a hoot, or a young frog who leaps before looking. Or a fish who thinks a worm will slide right off a hook.
Mandy is not dumb. And she proves it by agreeing to let Paul coach her on her math. Smart move!
When Jumpin’ Jack and I were young frogs back in the swamp, he used to win every single leaping contest. I wasn’t holding my head high then! One day, Jack pointed out that when I was midair, I wasn’t stretching out my back legs as far as I could. I listened, and I practiced. Soon I could beat him at least half the time, but he didn’t mind. He said it was more fun that way.
I think of Jack as I watch Paul sitting next to Mandy, patiently explaining how to solve the problem. Mandy nods her head a lot.
I guess she really listens, because after working with Paul, she gets a B on her next test! The B is for Better and for Believing in Herself.
The B makes her smile and makes me jump for joy.
Humphrey and I cheer with squeaks and boings, and Paul finally holds his head high.
Just before he leaves to return to Miss Loomis’s class, Mandy reaches her hand into her backpack.
“Paul . . . I have something for you,” she says.
“What is it?” he asks.
“What is it?” I boing.
Mandy stares down at her desk. “Nothing.”
Paul looks confused. He starts to leave again, and I have to do something. “BOING-BOING-BOING!” I shout, hopping up and down on my rock.
Mandy turns her head to glance at me.
“What is it?” Paul asks. “Og and I want to know.”
She reaches into her backpack again. This time she pulls something out. “I just made something to say thanks for your help,” she mumbles as she hands it to him.
Paul stares down at the object. “Wow. Thank you! Did you really make it? For me?”
Mandy nods. “I like to make things. It’s a bookmark, because I know you like to read.”
Paul studies the bookmark carefully. “Thanks! I like all the colors and how you looped the yarn through the hole so it will hang out of a book.”
Now Paul and Mandy look as happy as I feel.
Before the end of the day on Friday, Mrs. Brisbane announces that Mandy will be taking Humphrey home for the weekend. This time, she remembered to get the permission paper signed by her parents!
She doesn’t look unhappy anymore.
But I glance over at Humphrey and see him gazing at Miranda: His whiskers are drooping. I think he still feels guilty for getting Miranda in trouble.
And I feel guilty because I don’t have any idea how to help.
* * *
At the end of the day, Mandy’s father and her little brother come to pick up Humphrey.
Mrs. Brisbane feeds me and tells me good-bye. “I guess you’ll have a nice quiet weekend,” she says. “See you Monday!”
I look forward to being by myself. I’ll have plenty of time to work out the problem of how to see more of the school. If I can get around the way Humphrey does, I can do some real exploring!
But no matter how much I think about it, I can’t figure it out. I wish Paul could help me. Or someone like Sacagawea.
I take some off time to Float. Doze. Be.
A few hours later, the door to Room 26 opens. I’m expecting Aldo, of course, so I am as rattled as a rattlesnake when I see Mr. Morales enter. He’s the number one human at Longfellow School!
And he’s not alone. He has a girl and a boy with him, and he’s carrying a big box.
“Where is he, Dad?” the girl asks.
Aha! I’ve just learned something new. In addition to a whole school full of children to look after, our principal has young tads of his own.
“Over there, by the window,” he says as he turns on the lights.
“I see him!” the boy exclaims, and rushes over to my tank. “Hi, Og the Frog!”
I answer with a “BOING-BOING,” and the children squeal with laughter.
I hop up and down on my rock and try to act friendly. “BOING-BOING!” I repeat.
The children hop up and down and try to imitate my twangy voice. “Boing! Boing! Boing! Boing! Boing!”
“Settle down, Willy,” Mr. Morales says. “Stop jumping, Brenda.”
The girl, Brenda, is quite the hopper! Willy is a little bit smaller than Brenda. And Brenda is a little bit smaller than the big tads in Room 26.
Mr. Morales leans in close to my tank. “Og, how would you like to have an adventure this weekend?”
“Adventure!” I shout. “Just what I’ve been looking for!” At last, it’s my chance to learn more about the human world.
“You’re coming home with us for the weekend!” Brenda says, jumping some more. With each hop she adds a boing.
“The whole weekend!” Willy adds. “Boing-boing! Boing-boing!”
I love to hop, but watching them makes me dizzy.
Mr. Morales gently sets my tank in the box, which has newspaper in it for padding.
“Don’t worry, Og,” he tells me. “Mrs. Brisbane told me exactly what to do to take good care of you.”
Suddenly, everything goes black. Did one of the children turn out the lights?
Mr. Morales’s voice is muffled as he says, “Sorry it’s so dark, Og, but I put a quilt over the box to keep you warm.”
“That’s very thoughtful,” I say.
I spend quite a while in the dark, being jostled and bounced up and down.
It’s not easy peasy, but I try to stay calm. When we had heavy rain in the swamp, Granny Greenleaf used to say, “When there’s a storm, stay calm and warm. That’s the way to escape harm.”
I can tell I’m riding in a car by the bumps in the road. I have only been in a car a few times, but it feels nothing like swimming in my tank.
There are so many waves, I feel a little bit seasick.
The car finally stops after a while. I can hear Brenda and W
illy through the quilt.
“I’ll carry him.”
“No, I’ll carry him.”
“I’m older.”
“So what?”
Then there’s Mr. Morales’s strong voice. “I will carry him. Now, go on into the house.”
There’s more bumping and thumping, and Mr. Morales says, “Let’s put him here on the coffee table where you can get a good look at him.”
Once my tank is out of the box, I can see I’m on a low table in a cozy living room with Brenda and Willy’s four eyes staring at me intently.
I stare back.
“Let’s play with him!” Without warning, Brenda takes the top off my tank.
“Whoa—stop!” Mr. Morales’s voice is loud and clear.
Brenda freezes in place.
“Don’t grab him,” he says. “Frogs don’t like to be handled.”
“Thank you!” I say.
Maybe Mr. Morales is starting to understand me, because he says, “You’re welcome!”
He takes a folded sheet of paper from his shirt pocket. “I took notes on everything Mrs. Brisbane told me about how to care for Señor Og.”
He glances at the paper. “It says if you grab him by surprise, he might pee on you.”
“Not on purpose!” I quickly explain. “BOING-BOING!!”
If I peed on a human on purpose, I’d be lower than a catfish. A catfish feeds off the bottom of the pond, and that’s as low as you can get.
But something happens when I’m squeezed by surprise. I guess Mother Nature made it work that way, but I do pee . . . a little bit.
In a way, I wish humans didn’t take it personally, but they do get the message.
“Eww! That’s gross!” Brenda says.
Willy chuckles. “I think it’s funny.”
“Respect,” Mr. Morales says. “You must respect other creatures, their habits and their feelings.”
I respect Mr. Morales, and so do my classmates. I’m glad to know he respects me.
A woman hurries into the room. “I thought I’d never get off that call! But now I’m all ready for my appointment,” she says. Then she sees my tank and stops. “Oh, here’s our little visitor!”
“His name is Og,” Willy says, grabbing the woman’s arm. “Come see, Mom. He’s a frog!”
He pulls her toward the tank, and she studies me for a moment. “He’s a good-looking frog,” she says.
Leave it to Mr. Morales to have a smart wife!
Mrs. Morales says to me, “I wish I could spend more time with you, Og. But I have to show houses all day tomorrow, and I’m hosting an open house on Sunday.”
“That’s how real estate goes,” Mr. Morales says. “We’ll fill you in on everything.”
“I’ll take care of Og!” Brenda says.
“Me! Me! I’ll take care of Og,” Willy shouts.
“You’re too little,” Brenda says.
“Am not!” Willy answers.
Mr. Morales claps his hands over his ears. “Enough! You’re going to scare poor Og.”
He doesn’t realize that a little noise doesn’t scare me. Especially after my life in the buzzy, boing-y, howling swamp.
I am hoppy that Brenda and Willy both want to take care of me, but I don’t think Granny Greenleaf would approve of their behavior. Especially since their dad is such an important person. A principal!
Mrs. Morales rushes out the door. “See you later!” she says.
Just then, Mr. Morales’s phone rings. He says, “Hello,” then covers the phone and tells his children that it’s an important call and he must take it.
“Please quietly watch Og,” he tells them.
Brenda pulls a small chair up close to my tank and sits. Willy pulls a small chair even closer to my tank and sits.
They are watching me the way humans stare at their televisions. What do they think this is? A TV show?
It’s boring sitting in a glass box with four eyes fixed on me, so I slide off my rock and paddle in the water.
“Ooh—look!” Brenda says.
Willy giggles.
The water feels great on my skin, so I swim in a circle, adding in some extra splashing.
“Wow, look! He’s swimming!” Willy says.
“Of course he swims,” Brenda tells him. “He’s a frog. Don’t you know anything?”
Finally, I float. I don’t move a muscle.
There is silence.
“Is he okay?” Willy wants to know.
“I don’t know,” Brenda answers. “Maybe he . . .”
“Maybe he croaked!” Willy shouts.
That does it. I start swimming again to show that I have no plans to croak!
“He’s awesome,” Brenda says.
That’s better. I hop back onto my rock.
“Do something else, Og,” Willy begs.
“I am not a trained dog who does tricks,” I tell him. “I’m a wild, exploring frog.”
“Boinnnng! Boinnnng!” they chime in together, howling with laughter. “Boing-boing-boing-boing!”
Mr. Morales rushes in, holding the phone to his ear. “Shush, niños! I’m on the phone!”
They lower their howls to soft giggles. Then they sit and stare at me again.
“What do we do next?” Willy whispers loudly.
Brenda shrugs. They are quiet until Brenda leaps up and, with a smile, rushes to a bookcase.
“I’ll read him my favorite story! I know he’ll like it,” she says.
I think I’ll like it. No one has ever read a story just for me before.
“You don’t have to read to me,” Willy says. “I can read.”
“Not a hard book like this.” Brenda settles back down in the chair with the book. “Og, this is a fairy tale,” she says.
Willy groans. “Fairy tale? Yuck! Why would he like a fairy tale?”
“Because . . . it’s about a frog!” Brenda says.
Somebody wrote a story about a frog? I’m all ears. (Even if you can’t see mine.)
“The name of this story is ‘The Frog Prince,’” she announces.
A frog that’s a prince? I think I will like this story a lot.
All Hail Prince Boing-Boing
According to Uncle Chinwag, it was a sunny day when Sir Hiram Hopwell first boldly leaped into the Great Unknown. “I will miss the swamp,” he announced. “But unless someone explores the Great Unknown, we will all live in darkness and fear.” Darkness and fear aren’t good, but BING-BANG-BOING, could I ever be brave enough to take that first step?
* * *
“Once upon a time—” Brenda begins reading.
Willy crosses his arms and wrinkles his nose. “Why do fairy tales all begin the same way? ‘Once upon a time.’”
Brenda ignores him. “Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess, who lived in a mag . . . magni . . . magnificent castle.”
“I thought this was about a prince,” I say.
Willy giggles and points to me. “He’s Prince Boing-Boing,” he says.
Brenda ignores him and continues reading about how beautiful the princess was. Willy moans, but I am interested. I wish Brenda would show me a picture of the princess.
Brenda reads the story with a lot of feeling. One day, the princess was playing with her favorite toy—a golden ball—when it fell into a well. She cried about her missing toy until a voice asked her what was wrong. The voice seemed to be coming from the well. She looked down and saw a frog! This surprises me because I never heard of a frog living in a well.
“I will get the ball for you,” the frog said.
For some reason, the human princess could understand this frog. I wish my human friends could understand me.
“In return for bringing you the ball, you must agree that I will live in your palace, e
at delicious food from your golden plates, drink from your golden cups and sleep on your beautiful, soft pillow,” the frog told her.
“And you will return the ball to me?” she asked. “Then of course!”
The frog believed her and dove down to retrieve the ball.
The princess took it, and then—here’s the bad part of the story—she ran off!
That princess was not nice! She made a promise, and she didn’t keep it. As Granny Greenleaf often said, “Break a promise, and I fear, you’ll be sorry throughout the year.”
This not-nice princess was not one bit sorry! She returned to her magnificent castle and all her golden toys.
But that night after dinner, as she climbed the stairs to her room, guess who was there to meet her? Yep, one upset frog.
I like this part of the story because this is not a frog who gives up easily, and neither am I. He jumped out of the well and figured out how to get all the way into a castle. And he made a lot of noise when he demanded all the things she promised.
The princess argued with him, and when her dad, the king, overheard them, he showed up and asked what was going on.
I end up liking the king a lot because, like Granny Greenleaf, he told her if she made a promise, she had to honor it. “I command it!” he said.
His daughter wasn’t happy about this (because she was a not-very-nice princess), but her dad was the king, and she did what he said. She took the frog into her room, gave him delicious food and drink and let him sleep on her beautiful, soft pillow.
I’m thinking that if someone treated me the way she treated that frog, I would hop out of there as soon as possible. But not that frog!
Then—another twist! Right before she blew out her bedside candle that night, the frog asked her to kiss him good night.
Personally, I don’t think I’d like a human’s puffy pink lips on my skin, but it turned out this frog knew what he was doing.
When the princess gave him a teeny tiny kiss, the frog turned into a handsome human prince—just like that!
Exploring According to Og the Frog Page 3