Wildlife According to Og the Frog Read online

  Noah shakes his head. “It’s the abominable snowman.”

  Now I’m wondering if there’s an abominable abdominal snowman in Haunted Hollow as well as the Howler.

  “It’s scary whatever you call it,” Ty says. “I bet the first person who heard the Howler invented the word ‘blood-curdling.’”

  Oh. So it’s not curling, but it’s still frightening.

  The conversation is interrupted when Aldo comes in to tell the boys to get ready for bed.

  “Aldo?” Garth asks. “Have you seen the Howler?”

  “Well . . .” Aldo pauses. “I can’t really talk about it.”

  “Where is this Haunted Hollow? Can we see it from camp?” Ty asks.

  Aldo grins. “You guys sure have a lot of questions. You can’t see it from camp. It’s in the dense woods down there on the other side of the lake. If you want to see it, you’ll have to work hard to win the Clash of the Cabins! So, you guys think you have a chance?”

  “Absolutely!” Sam says.

  “But you’re good at sports,” Garth tells Sam. “I’m not.”

  “You all have strengths. I think you can do it.” Aldo points to his head. “Besides, what’s up here is as important as your talent. As they say, ‘Believe it, and you’ll achieve it.’ Now, time to hustle and get to bed.”

  Once the lights are out, it takes the Bobwhites a while to get to sleep, and then it gets quiet, except for that owl hooting out in the woods.

  As I float in my tank in the darkened cabin, I wonder what Humphrey is doing.

  I’ve heard scary creatures howling in the woods before, but the scariest thing Humphrey has ever heard is Mrs. Wright and her whistle. (She can be frightening, all right.)

  But unlike Humphrey and the Bobwhites, I have felt true fear, deep in the night where unseen dangers lurk. And I have an idea that the Howler’s scariness is on a whole different level. As I try to imagine what that creature might be like, a song drifts into my head.

  What’s a Howler?

  What’s a Howler?

  I don’t know.

  I don’t know.

  I don’t want him to meet me!

  I don’t want him to eat me!

  Stay away.

  Stay away.

  Throughout the night, I hear a few howls far-off in the woods, but luckily, I recognize them all from my days back in the swamp.

  Still, it’s a long night.

  * * *

  I don’t have a lot of time to think about the Howler, because we’re so busy. No time to lounge around on a lily pad, the way I did back in the swamp.

  Sometimes Humphrey and I get time to rest in the recreation room. He naps in his sleeping hut a lot more often than he did at Longfellow School, and I think about how life in the wild might be a little too much for my furry pal.

  From my viewpoint by the window, some other things worry me, too.

  I see campers ride by on horses . . . and notice the sad look on Miranda’s face as they pass by her.

  Then there’s Gail, sitting against a tree and writing what is probably another letter to Heidi.

  I’m startled when Lindsey suddenly appears outside, standing in front of the window and waving. “Hi, Oggie! You are adorable!”

  So I’m not just cute. I am also adorable. That’s nice to hear.

  She bends closer. “I just want to give you a great big hug!”

  That’s not nice to hear. I don’t like to be squeezed. “Please don’t,” I boing.

  Luckily, a voice on the loudspeaker announces that session three begins in five minutes. Lindsey says, “Bye,” and rushes off with the other campers.

  I decide to Float. Doze. Be. And try not to think about Lindsey hugging me, the problems of my fellow campers or what the Howler is like.

  I guess I sleep a bit, because the next thing I know, I’m whisked off to the Chickadees’ cabin for the first time. I don’t even have a chance to say “Nighty-night” to Humphrey, who is headed to stay with the Bobwhites.

  * * *

  As always, visiting a new cabin means I meet new campers. The Chickadees are an interesting group. One is the girl who came to camp with Miranda. Her name is Abby, and I remember hearing Miranda tell Ms. Mac she is her stepsister. Which is pretty much like a sister.

  Sayeh is also a Chickadee, and I know her well from Room 26. The others, like Val and Marissa, are new to me. I’m always glad to meet new humans.

  They come in after the campfire, smelling a little bit smoky. There’s an easy, relaxed mood here, which is a far cry from life in the swamp.

  Marissa braids Val’s hair, while Abby and Sayeh play an interesting game where they chant and clap each other’s hands. I like the one about Miss Susie. I wonder if there’s a chant about Ms. Mac.

  After a while, Abby yawns, then Sayeh. Pretty soon, all the girls are yawning. I’ve noticed that yawning is like giggling with humans. It seems to be contagious!

  * * *

  I am well rested when I’m returned to the Nature Center in the morning. My pal’s excited squeaks let me know that he’s glad to see me.

  Sayeh stops by on her way to her desk. As usual, she’s as sweet as honeysuckle in summer. Believe me, there’s nothing sweeter than honeysuckle.

  Her voice is sweet, too, as she sings a song about Camp Happy Hollow to Humphrey.

  It’s such a good song, I wish I’d written it.

  My favorite part is “for all the days and weeks and years that follow, we’ll remember happy days at Happy Hollow.” It makes me feel warm inside.

  But that feeling doesn’t last when a voice says, “Oooh, hi, Og, you cutie-wootie!”

  “BOING???”

  The voice belongs to Lindsey, of course. Her face is so close to my tank, it looks as big as a full moon.

  “I wish I could take you home with me,” she says. “You could share my room, and we could do everything together. Sleep, eat, have a cuddle!”

  Sure, we could share a room, but I’d rather listen to the bullying bullfrogs than be picked up and cuddled! Besides, if a human picks me up and squeezes me, I usually pee. I don’t like it, but I can’t help it. Humans don’t like it, either!

  Once class begins, I enjoy hearing Katie talk about wild animal tracks until Noah raises his hand and asks Katie why Humphrey and I are kept in a cage and a tank. That gets my attention!

  Katie tries to explain, but I don’t think Noah is listening.

  “I think we should let them out,” he says.

  Thank goodness Ty speaks up in a voice almost as loud as his brother A.J.’s. “Not if Jake’s going to eat Humphrey and Og!”

  I glance down the table to check out Jake the Snake. You can never tell what a snake is thinking, but he looks a little hungry to me. I’m pretty sure snakes are always hungry . . . especially for frogs.

  In fact, I’m not sure about Lovey, either. I never had a problem with doves, but she is a bird, and so are dangerous owls and hawks.

  Noah doesn’t let up. He keeps insisting that Humphrey and I should be released into the wild.

  Quickly, I think of what I’d do if someone let me out. I remember that nice slice of water I saw peeking through the trees, and that’s where I’d head. With luck, I’d find some fellow green frogs to help me adjust.

  At least I’d know what’s in store for me there.

  But then I glance over at Humphrey. So small. So furry. So unaware of the dangers out there. No wonder Ms. Mac asked me to look out for him.

  She’s looking out for both of us now. She explains to Noah that Humphrey and I are classroom pets who are used to being taken care of, and Jake is the camp mascot.

  Lovey, on the other hand, is a wild bird who was injured, and I’m hoppy to hear they plan to release her back into the wild soon.

  For now, Ms. Mac quiets Noah do
wn.

  “Thank you!” I boing.

  * * *

  When I spend the next night with the Blue Jays, I get to see A.J. and Richie from Room 26. There’s a boy named Simon who’s a little younger. He’s the one I saw coming to camp with Gail, so he must be her brother. But the one called Brad gets my attention.

  As soon as A.J. sets my tank on a table, Simon and Richie rush over to say hi, but Brad stays on his bed, reading a magazine. He doesn’t even look up.

  “We won you for the night, Og!” Richie says. “Are you glad?”

  “BING-BANG-BOING!” I tell him.

  “And how’s my favorite classroom frog?” Richie asks.

  Brad glances over. “That’s a classroom pet? A frog?”

  “Og is a great pet,” A.J. says.

  “Frogs can’t do anything,” Brad complains.

  I stick up for frogs everywhere. “BOING-BOING! BOING-BOING!”

  “You tell him, Og!” Simon says.

  Brad wanders over to the table and looks closer. “All he can do is make that goofy noise. He can’t sit or play dead or shake paws like my dog does.”

  This guy is about as friendly as a water moccasin in a bad mood (which is almost all the time, for a water moccasin).

  To show Brad what frogs can do, I take a gigantic leap from my rock, arching high up in the air, then make a beautiful dive into the water. If only Jumpin’ Jack could see me now!

  Brad shakes his head and returns to his bed. He doesn’t look up from his magazine again, not even to talk about the Clash of the Cabins with the rest of the boys.

  “Did you see Sam play softball today?” Simon asks. “He hit two home runs and a triple!”

  Richie nods. “That’s why they call him Super-Sam. I’m not sure how we can beat the Bobwhites with Sam on their side.”

  “Well, we have to try,” A.J. says. “It’s at least worth fighting for.”

  Then the boys (minus Brad) cheer, “Blue Jays rule! Blue Jays rule!” A.J.’s voice is so loud, I have to swim underwater to muffle the sound.

  “Wow, there’s some great cabin spirit here!” Aldo says when he comes in. “Keep up the enthusiasm, boys. But now it’s time to settle down.”

  I agree with Aldo about the cabin spirit. But my ears are grateful when the boys stop cheering.

  Hoots and Howls

  Laughter is nature’s best medicine.

  —Granny Greenleaf’s Wildlife Wisdom

  Don’t ask me how Brad is picked to carry my tank back to the Nature Center in the morning. Maybe Aldo thinks he’ll be in a better mood if he has something to do.

  It’s raining a little bit, which doesn’t bother me. I love the feeling of water on my skin, and rain brings mud—my favorite thing!

  As he heads down the bumpy path, I’m surprised to hear Brad talking to me. But it doesn’t take long to figure out that he’s actually talking to himself.

  “I didn’t have to carry a dumb old frog at my old camp,” he mutters. “Things were fun there.”

  Okay. I get the idea he doesn’t like Camp Happy Hollow, but he doesn’t have to be insulting.

  Humphrey is already waiting at the Nature Center. When Brad sets down my tank next to his cage, Brad calls me dumb again and also complains because I don’t say ribbit.

  I have heard frogs chirp, peep, bark, grunt, whistle and croak. Only a few tree frogs say ribbit.

  Personally, I don’t think there’s a finer sound than a hearty BOING!

  Humphrey squeaks like a whole choir of angry mice. He seems pretty upset about what Brad said to me.

  Finally, Brad leaves us alone and ends up sitting next to Gail, who’s too busy writing to look up. And I can guess who she’s writing to. I hope Heidi has a lot of free time to read all those letters!

  Over the past few days, Katie and Ms. Mac have told Gail more than once to stop. The campers are supposed to write letters home in the afternoon. They’re not supposed to write them all day long.

  But Gail is so busy writing her friend back home, I’m not sure she’d recognize her fellow campers’ faces. She’s not even interested in Katie’s pictures of Lovey’s rescue. Poor bird! She was badly injured when she was found in the woods, and now—well, she looks as happy and healthy as a green frog with a full belly!

  Katie says she’ll be ready to release in the wild any day now.

  “Woo-oo-oo-oo!” Lovey coos.

  I’m hoppy for Lovey. But I also remember when I first came to Room 26 and the young tads debated whether they should return me to the wild or keep me at school.

  I’m glad I stayed, but I still long for the wild life in the swamp. The long days catching crickets, learning lessons from Granny Greenleaf and having jumping contests with my best pal, Jumpin’ Jack.

  I miss the mud and the mucky water, the assortment of tasty insects and my friends and family.

  I miss floating on a lily pad on the sun-dappled water.

  But in the end, a wildlife expert said it’s not a good idea to return frogs to the wild because of diseases. She also said frogs are highly endangered, which is terrible news. Who can imagine a world without frogs?

  Still, I’m rooting for Lovey. I really am. It’s hard seeing a bird not able to fly.

  Brad is not impressed. “Why do we talk about birds all the time? There are lots more interesting things to do,” he mutters. “At my old camp, we were looking at bear tracks!”

  I try to tune out his bragging now. (I learned how to do that back in the swamp with the bullying bullfrogs.)

  On the positive side, Ms. Mac encourages Gail to put down her pen and offers to walk her to the next session.

  As soon as they leave, Humphrey launches into a stream of squeaks. He’s clearly angry, and I’m pretty sure what he’s upset about is Brad’s attitude.

  Humphrey squeaks so much, even Lovey speaks up. Her “woo-oo-oo-oo” is soothing, but I think she’s saying, “Quiet down over there!”

  Humphrey finally gets the message.

  * * *

  That night, when Humphrey and I are taken to the dining hall, it’s still raining.

  “The campers are disappointed we won’t have a campfire tonight,” I hear Katie tell Ms. Mac.

  “Wait till they see what we have planned!” Ms. Mac says.

  The rain makes the grass greener and the mud muddier. Everything smells wilder tonight. If only I could get out of my tank and feel the glorious drops hit my skin.

  Back at the dining hall, there’s a lot going on besides eating.

  It’s about as noisy as a summer night in the swamp, where there’s chirping, buzzing, wing flapping, hooting and howling, not to mention the deafening RUM-RUMs of the bullfrog chorus.

  This room is full of giggling and belly laughs, clinking and clattering, shouting and singing and lots of loud talking. Humphrey and I take it all in from our position on a table near the stage.

  I observe a lot from there: Gail is still sulking while the other girls are busy chattering. The boys are having what I think is a burping contest. If they are, Simon will definitely win first prize. He’s a talented burper!

  I also see Ms. Mac pull Miranda aside to talk. Since we’re in a quiet spot, she leads her near our table.

  “Miranda, have you been writing your mom positive letters about camp, like I suggested?” Ms. Mac asks.

  Miranda nods. “Oh, yes. Every day I tell her how much I love it here, how nice the other kids are and how good the counselors are.”

  “That’s good.” Ms. Mac nods. “I heard from your mother again today, and she thinks you sound a little down in your letters.”

  “I’m not!” Miranda says.

  I know from being in Room 26 that Miranda doesn’t lie.

  “I guess she’s just worried,” Ms. Mac replies. “Did you tell her how much you’d like to try horseb
ack riding?”

  Miranda nods again. “Yes! I told her that the instructors have been teaching riding for years and the horses are gentle. I told her how much the other girls like it. I even told her about Golden being my favorite horse. She’s super gentle, and her name is the same as mine!”

  That’s right, Miranda’s full name is Miranda Golden. Perfect!

  Ms. Mac smiles. “I believe you. I just needed to check. I’ll keep trying to think of ways to encourage her not to worry so much.”

  “Good luck with that.” Miranda shakes her head. “I don’t think she’ll ever stop worrying about everything I do.”

  “She’ll always worry because she loves you, Miranda,” Ms. Mac tells her. “You know that.”

  By now they’ve walked away, and I can’t hear them anymore.

  “What do you think of that?” I ask Humphrey. He doesn’t answer.

  I think of how happy Miranda would look horseback riding. I think of how happy Golden would be if Miranda were riding her.

  But I’m not sure what to do about it. At least not yet.

  I have no time to think about Miranda now, because I spot A.J. standing nearby with Garth and Ty.

  I’m not surprised when Ty challenges A.J. a bit. I have a few brothers like that.

  When Ty says the Blue Jays are going to have to work a lot harder to beat the Bobwhites in the Clash of the Cabins, that sounds like normal kidding around.

  But I’m as confused as a mosquito in a windstorm when Garth’s tone turns nastier.

  I am used to Garth and A.J. being best friends and doing almost everything together. I am not used to seeing Garth trying to needle A.J.

  “Yeah. We’ve already beaten the Blue Jays,” Garth tells him. “You might as well admit you guys are losers.”

  He acts more like a bullying bullfrog than the Garth I know from Room 26. Yes, Aldo did say, “Believe it, and you’ll achieve it,” but I think Garth is taking that advice a little too seriously!