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Wildlife According to Og the Frog Page 6
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“Og, do you know how to spell gentlest? It doesn’t look right.” Miranda crosses something out and reads again. “She’s beautiful and is the most gentle horse here.”
That sounds better, and it’s easier to spell.
Miranda writes some more and reads it back to me. “Even animals get to try new things at camp. I have learned to live in peace with a bird and a snake. And Humphrey the Hamster has gotten used to life in the great outdoors.”
Nice touch!
“Thanks for being a great mom,” Miranda continues. “Lots of love, Og the Frog.”
I’m hopping with happiness. “Perfect!” I say.
Miranda is still deep in thought. “It needs something more.”
“No, it’s perfect.” I hop so high, I almost pop the top off my tank!
“Don’t get the letter wet, Og,” Miranda says. She’s right, of course, so I settle down.
Miranda writes some more. What more is there to say?
When she’s finished, she puts down the pen and reads to me: “BOING-BOING! BOING-BOING!”
“The perfect touch,” I tell her.
I do love Miranda, and I’m hoppy I could help her.
I just hope the letter works.
* * *
Later, when the girls head to bed, Lindsey stops at my table to say good night.
“Good night, Oggie-pie,” she says.
I’ve been called Og, Oggie, Bongo and recently a cutie. Dr. Okeke, who once visited Room 26, said my scientific name is Rana clamitans. But Oggie-pie? This is a first.
“Sweet dreams,” she continues.
I breathe a sigh of relief. She’s going to bed!
“I’m going to kiss you good night,” Lindsey says.
“No! No! Absolutely not!” I leap into the water to get away from her.
Lindsey giggles. “Nighty-night,” she tells me. Then she kisses her finger and taps it against my tank and heads back to her bed.
Whew! That was a close one!
But I stay in the water most of the night in case she comes back.
Stuck
Mud may make you feel just ducky, but getting stuck in the muck is downright yucky.
—Granny Greenleaf’s Wildlife Wisdom
The next morning in the Nature Center, I am relieved to see that Lindsey isn’t in the first group. I need a break from her.
Then I hear Noah’s voice close to my tank.
“Og, I found your true home,” he tells me in a soft voice. “You need water—lots of it. And other frogs to be friends with. I’ll help you, don’t worry.”
I wasn’t worried before he spoke to me, but I am plenty worried now!
“Don’t do me any favors!” I tell him with a series of loud boings.
Class begins, but I can’t concentrate because I’m thinking about what Noah said. Sure, I like being near water and having frog friends. But he forgot to mention the bad things, like Chopper, who is always waiting for a nice, plump frog to pass by. Or the water moccasins, who look asleep even if they aren’t. Then there are owls, hawks and other flying enemies. It’s not all sunbeams and lily pads, I can tell you!
Once Ms. Mac and Katie take the campers on a nature hike again, Humphrey and I are alone in the classroom, and I have time to think.
For months now, my true home has been Room 26 of Longfellow School, right next to Humphrey.
We both have challenging jobs as classroom pets. Instead of spending most of my days dodging enemies, I try to be encouraging to the big tads in the class. I help Humphrey keep track of the time when he’s out of his cage . . . which he is right now!
Leaping lizards! He’s doing it again. He’s sliding down the table leg with more stickers in his mouth. While I’ve been daydreaming, he’s been trying to help Brad and Gail. I don’t understand how his plan works, but I know he has one.
“Hurry, Humphrey!” I yell.
Again, he tucks stickers in each of their notebooks, then climbs the tall plant—which sways alarmingly—up to the table and back to his cage.
“You did it!” I say. I don’t think he hears me, because he’s already spinning on his wheel.
Once again, when the campers return to their desks, Brad and Gail find the stickers. But this time, they actually speak to each other! What progress! Soon the two of them are laughing and chatting away.
Humphrey stops spinning and looks over at me. “SQUEAK-SQUEAK-SQUEAK!”
“I saw it, Humphrey! Your plan is working!” I say.
Then he crawls into his sleeping hut for a well-deserved nap.
* * *
I’m back with the Bobwhites that night. That makes me as nervous as a toothless fox . . . because Noah is a Bobwhite.
Tonight, he’s pretty quiet, just scribbling on a notepad. I hope he’s writing home, not working on a plan to get Humphrey and me released into the wild!
Garth and Ty happily celebrate Sam’s recent successes. He has already broken camp records in softball home runs, volleyball and swimming.
“We can’t lose!” Garth says. “Not with Super-Sam!”
Sam shakes his head. “Everybody has to do their best, okay? It’s not all about me.”
“But we’ve nailed it already!” Garth seems ecstatic. “A.J.’s group doesn’t have a chance!”
I must admit, it does look as if the Bobwhites are impossible to beat. But there’s something about Garth’s attitude that bothers me a lot.
“I think the point of the Clash of the Cabins is for all of us to give it our best,” Sam says.
“My best in sports isn’t good enough,” Garth says. “A.J. has always beaten me at everything. I’m counting on you, Super-Sam! We’re going to see the Howler! Owoooo!”
This time, the other Bobwhites don’t join in.
Ty stares at the floor. “I want to win, but do we have to meet the Howler?”
“That’s the whole point,” Garth says. “What do you think, Noah?”
Noah looks up from his scribbling. “Statistically, I think we’ll win.”
Garth gives him a thumbs-up. “Thanks! We’re in!”
I’m glad when Sam changes the subject. “Guys, we should think about our skit. Any ideas?”
I don’t really listen as they toss out ideas and discuss them. All I can see is Ty still staring at the floor. I think he’s seriously afraid of the Howler. And to tell the truth, so am I.
But the next night, as I watch the Chickadees hard at work on their skills for the Clash of the Cabins, I don’t think they’re afraid of anything!
I’m amazed to watch Abby lead them in tying knots. She works at the speed of a fly-catching frog’s tongue.
She’s also made a huge chart about all the signs used in trail marking. No one works harder than the Chickadees. Abby is a strong leader who keeps the other girls focused on the Clash of the Cabins.
Not that I don’t hear a few complaints.
“Abby, I think we’re supposed to have fun at camp,” Marissa grumbles.
“Sorry,” Abby says. “We’ve had enough practice for tonight. But you do want to win, don’t you?”
“Yes!” the other girls agree.
After lights-out, the girls usually talk quietly in the dark for a while before going to sleep. But tonight, they fall asleep right away. And so do I.
* * *
The next morning in the Nature Center, I’m still thinking about the Howler when Miranda and Kayla come in to talk to Ms. Mac about a surprising subject.
“We were thinking maybe Noah is right,” Miranda says.
“Eeek!” Humphrey squeals. I know how he feels.
Miranda says she hates seeing Humphrey cooped up in the Nature Center and wants to give him a tour of the camp.
“Well . . .” Ms. Mac says. “Yes, I guess so. As long as you promise not to let
him out of his cage.”
“What about me?” I wonder. “BOING-BOING?”
“Oh, Og, it’s too hard to give you a tour,” Ms. Mac says. “The water in your tank would be sloshing the whole time.”
“We still love you,” Miranda tells me.
I’m glad they love me, but when the campers and Humphrey leave for their tour, I feel alone and left out.
And I am worried about my friend. After all, Ms. Mac made me promise to watch over Humphrey. What is she thinking now?
I float in the water for a while. That always makes me feel better.
Soon I find myself singing a brand-new but somewhat sad song.
Humphrey’s having a journey,
Humphrey’s having a journey,
Humphrey’s having a journey,
While I am stuck right here.
I am stuck right here!
I am stuck right here!
Humphrey’s having a journey,
And I am stuck right here.
I’d like to go out exploring,
I’d like to go out exploring,
I’d like to go out exploring,
Instead of being stuck.
I don’t like being stuck!
I don’t like being stuck!
I’d like to go out exploring . . .
But I am stuck right here.
Being stuck is not a great feeling, so to clear my head, I decide to do a workout. I don’t get as much exercise in my tank as I did in the swamp, but I try to stay in shape.
First, I splash as hard as I can. Then I hop on my rock for a series of jumping jacks. Up, down, up, down, up, down, up, down, up, done. I’ve moved on to swimming laps in my tank when Simon and Ty rush in, giggling.
“I can’t believe she took it off,” Simon says. “I figured she slept with it on.”
“And showered with it on.” Ty laughs.
I can’t believe they sneaked out of the nature hike!
“Where can we hide it?” Ty asks.
“Someplace where she won’t find it for a long time,” Simon says. “I missed the perfect save in volleyball today. When she blew her whistle, I blew the play.”
I don’t think they realize I’m watching, so I freeze and float silently in my tank.
“Why don’t we throw it in the lake?” Ty asks. “Then she’ll never find it.”
Simon shakes his head. “No, that’s too mean. This is just a harmless prank. We’ll hide it for a while. We can always give it back later. That’ll confuse her!”
“Hey, over there!” Ty points to a small cabinet with narrow drawers. “I’ve never seen anyone open that.”
They rush over and start opening drawers. “There are a lot of photos in here,” Simon says. “Katie and Ms. Mac might go in there to take them out for class when we’re not around.”
They continue to look around until Simon points at our table. In fact, he looks like he’s pointing to Jake the Snake. “Look! There’s a little space under his terrarium.”
Simon and Ty race to our table. Sam pulls something out of his pocket, and now I know what they’re talking about: Mrs. Wright’s silver whistle. Like the boys, I am amazed. I didn’t think she ever took it off, either.
That whistle is something I dread. I get nervous when Mrs. Wright walks into the room just because there’s a chance she might blow it. Poor Humphrey’s little ears wiggle, and he squeals with pain when she uses it.
And my ears (the skin over them, really) quiver like a thin reed on a windy day.
“I’ll slide it under there,” Simon says as he pushes the whistle under Jake’s terrarium.
“Go!” Simon yells, and they run outside.
Well! That was surprising!
Of course, the boys broke several camp rules, but I admit, a few days without the blasts of that whistle would be welcome.
Still, however they got it, it doesn’t belong to them. Maybe I should help give it back? I think I could pop the top of my tank and hop on over there, but I’d hate to get caught out of my tank. The campers will be back any second.
I’m still thinking of the right thing to do when Miranda, Kayla and Sayeh bring Humphrey back to our table.
“SQUEAK-SQUEAK-SQUEAK!” My buddy sounds excited.
“That Noah—why does he want to free the animals?” Sayeh asks.
“AMINALS,” Miranda says. “He can’t spell very well!”
“Humphrey and Og are our pets,” Sayeh says. “Can you imagine Humphrey out in the wild?”
“No, I can’t!” I boing.
“Jake and Lovey would probably do okay. And Og would probably be all right,” Miranda says. “But not Humphrey.”
“EEEK!” my furry friend squeaks. I don’t blame him. It’s something I’ve worried about ever since we arrived at Camp Happy Hollow.
After the girls leave, Humphrey squeaks wildly, trying to tell me what happened, but I still have no idea.
And what’s an AMINAL? I think about that while I float in the water and finally decide that I am. At least if you’re a poor speller.
At last, Humphrey crawls into his sleeping hut.
The poor guy is exhausted. He needs a good nap, and I need time to think. It’s been a very confusing day so far!
Unexpected Journey
Once you step into the Great Unknown, it’s not unknown anymore.
—Granny Greenleaf’s Wildlife Wisdom
At night, Aldo takes Humphrey and me to the dining hall to see the cabins perform their skits in the Comedy Club.
“You don’t want to miss this,” he tells us. “It’s going to be a lot of laughs.”
But before the fun begins, Hap Holloway makes a serious announcement. “There were signs that went up today about freeing our animals,” he begins.
The signs were about freeing the aminals, according to Miranda, but no one corrects Hap.
He explains that Lovey is going to be released into the wild.
My heart pounds because up until a few months ago, I was a wild thing. Is he going to say the same thing about me?
Then Hap Holloway says that Humphrey and I are different because we are pets. “They are not to be released into the wild. They are only on loan to us. Understand?”
And then an amazing thing happens. Half of the campers start chanting, “Hum-phree! Hum-phree!” The other half chant, “Og! Og! Og! Og! Og!”
Nobody ever did that back in the swamp. (Of course, my name was Bongo then.) I may be cold-blooded, but I feel warm inside when I hear them.
But I’m as cold as the ice when the pond freezes over when I hear the earsplitting shriek of a whistle! It’s Mrs. Wright, and yes, she has a whistle! I’m amazed that she found it so quickly. How did she think to look in that little space under Jake’s terrarium?
“There will be order!” she says, and everyone quiets down. The whistle works, even though it sounds a little different to me.
Before I know it, the skits begin, but I must admit, my mind is still on that whistle.
While the Blue Jays are on the stage acting something out, I’m trying to figure out how Mrs. Wright found the whistle. I never saw her come in.
I glance up at the stage, where Richie and some others are pretending to be a train.
Mrs. Wright blows her whistle again as part of the skit, and this time, the crowd cheers.
Maybe I’m the only one who notices that unlike the silver whistle Ty and Simon hid, this one is black. It’s not the same whistle, but it’s as loud as the other one.
I’m afraid the boys’ plan didn’t work, but Simon and Ty are laughing and don’t seem to mind.
When the audience cheers, I send out a few loud boings as well.
I have trouble concentrating on the Chickadees’ skit because I’m still thinking about the whist
le. It was wrong of Simon and Ty to skip out on the nature hike. I guess the counselors didn’t notice, but like Humphrey, they didn’t grow up in the wild like I did. They shouldn’t be roaming around by themselves.
And it was wrong of them to take Mrs. Wright’s whistle, even if it was just a prank.
But there was no harm done, so why do I feel funny about the whole thing? And I don’t mean funny like laughing, which the audience is doing at the end of the Bobwhites’ skit.
I mean funny like an odd feeling that things are not right. That’s why I’m having trouble paying attention.
But when Miranda suddenly grabs Humphrey’s cage and hides him behind the curtains onstage, she gets my full attention. What in the swamp is going on?
Now it’s the Robins’ turn to put on a skit.
I keep my eyes glued to the stage, but I can’t see Humphrey. They’ve set up a fake door onstage. They take turns opening the door just a little and then running away screaming about a monster.
I think they enjoy pretending to be scared.
Finally, they call on Ms. Mac. When she opens the door, she shrieks, too. When she starts to run away, she flings the door open wide so all of us can see what’s behind it—Humphrey’s cage!
So, Humphrey is the horrible scary monster!
Of course, everyone roars with laughter at the idea that anyone would think my furry friend is a monster! The crowd cheers, “Hum-phree! Hum-phree!”
The girls are all smiles as they high-five each other. Even Gail.
To show him how much I enjoyed his part in the skit, when Humphrey returns to his place next to me on the table, I dive to the bottom of my tank, then leap out of the water and onto my rock, shouting, “Way to go, Humphrey! You’re a star!”
It’s been such a wonderful evening, I don’t think about that whistle again.
* * *
The girls in the Robins’ Nest cabin can’t stop talking about the success of their skit.
“We ought to get some serious Clash of the Cabins points for it,” Kayla says.