Wildlife According to Og the Frog Read online

  The other girls agree.

  “We might get more horseback riding points than we thought,” Miranda announces. Her eyes are sparkling. “My mom gave me permission to ride, and I had my first lesson today. I got to ride Golden!”

  The other girls seem as surprised as I am.

  “Yippee!” I boing.

  “Miranda, that is so great!” Gail gives her friend a hug. This is a different Gail than just a few days ago. “What made her change her mind?” she asks.

  Miranda hesitates and then replies, “Our friend Og here wrote her a letter that convinced her it was okay.”

  The other girls laugh. “Sure, Og wrote a letter,” Kayla says.

  “He must have used waterproof ink!” Lindsey jokes.

  “Well, that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it,” Miranda says. “And Og knows it’s true.”

  BING-BANG-BOING! I certainly do. Not that I deserve the credit. But I did inspire Miranda to write a different kind of letter.

  “That’s my Oggie-pie!” Lindsey heads over to look at me more closely. “The bestest little froggy-woggy in the world!”

  I wince at the Oggie-pie, but right now, I feel like I am a pretty good little froggy-woggy.

  * * *

  The next morning, Kayla drops me off at the Nature Center. Except for Jake and Lovey, I am the only one there until Katie runs in with her arms full of books.

  “Morning, team,” she says cheerily, plopping the books down on the desk. “It’s getting busy around here! It’s the last day to prepare for the Clash of the Cabins!”

  She’s stacking the books when Mrs. Wright comes in.

  “Katie, I just realized I never looked in here for my whistle,” she says. “Have you seen it?”

  Katie smiles. “I see it right now. It’s around your neck.”

  Mrs. Wright shakes her head. “Hap loaned me this whistle, but I still haven’t found the silver one. I’d sure like to have it for the events tomorrow.”

  I guess one whistle isn’t just like another.

  “Oh,” Katie says. “I haven’t seen it, but please look around.”

  Mrs. Wright starts to search the desk and drawers. “I know it seems a little silly, but that whistle has a special meaning to me.”

  It has a special meaning for everyone at camp, too. A feeling of pain and irritation!

  “You see, that whistle belonged to my mother,” Mrs. Wright explains. “She was a PE teacher, too. I followed in her footsteps because I admired her so much. Since she’s gone, I hardly ever take it off.”

  I never even thought of Mrs. Wright having a mother!

  “Well, let’s find it, Ruth,” Katie says.

  Sometimes, when she blows that whistle, it’s hard to believe Mrs. Wright has a heart. But now I know she does . . . and it’s aching.

  “It’s under Jake’s tank!” I shout. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you!”

  Mrs. Wright and Katie continue to search the room . . . in all the wrong places.

  “It’s under Jake’s terrarium!” I boing even louder.

  “Calm down, Og.” Katie turns to Mrs. Wright. “I wonder what’s bothering him.”

  “I know where it is!” I try again.

  “I have an idea,” Katie says. “Let’s try the dining hall again.”

  Soon the two of them head out the door and the room is quiet again.

  * * *

  All of the campers are serious about preparing for the Clash of the Cabins. I can hardly keep up with everything they are practicing. Volleyball and softball sound like a lot of fun, but I wish I could join in the swimming competitions! I wouldn’t care about winning—I just want to be in the water!

  Of course, if they had a leaping contest, I don’t think anyone could beat me, unless my old friend Jumpin’ Jack showed up.

  * * *

  All the practicing and anticipation must have worn out all of the campers, because every single Bobwhite falls asleep early that night. But one of them didn’t sleep very long—Noah. It’s barely even light out when he comes over to my tank. And why is he carrying a bowl of water?

  “The coast is clear, Og.” He reaches in and picks me up. Luckily, he doesn’t squeeze me. “I’m taking you on a big adventure!”

  He hurries out the door with me in the bowl, and I struggle to keep my head above the waves to see where we’re going.

  I wanted an adventure in the wild. I guess I’m about to have one.

  Noah moves quickly down the path that soon becomes a narrow trail through the woods. “You’re going to love this, Og,” he says. “I’m taking you to a place you’ll like a lot more than sitting in a cabin all day.”

  That sounds frogtastic, but did he ask permission? Did he tell anyone he was taking me? Or am I being frognapped again, the way I was when I was taken from the swamp?

  Going on an adventure isn’t fun if it’s not your idea.

  Noah picks up his pace, and we seem to be going downhill. All around us, I see a blur of green.

  The blur suddenly turns into a forest of tall trees.

  “Here it is, Og,” Noah says. “The perfect spot for a frog.”

  The waves calm down, and I peek over the side of the bowl. All I see are trees until I turn and look behind me at one of the most beautiful pieces of water that I’ve ever laid my froggy eyes on.

  “It’s Lake Lavender,” Noah says.

  BING-BANG-BOING!

  The lake is sparkling, and I can hear the gently lapping water, a choir of birds singing, bees buzzing and something else. There’s a distant chorus of “BOING-BOING! BOING-BOING!”

  Snakes alive! There’s a large group of green frogs out there, and they are singing a peppy song.

  Hoppy, hoppy,

  This is a hoppy day!

  We’re so hoppy,

  Hoppy in every way.

  We spend our days eating crickets,

  And playing in the thickets,

  And so we say

  In every way

  Oh, this is a hoppy day.

  I guess I’m not the only green frog that likes to sing! It’s a simple song, but you can’t beat the message.

  “Hear those frogs, Og? They sound like you. This is where you belong.” Noah sets me in the tall grass. Gently, thank goodness.

  “Doesn’t this feel better than sitting in a tank in a classroom?” Noah asks.

  I don’t answer because just then, a warm breeze fans the grass. It makes me as hoppy as the singing frogs.

  “Breathe in that fresh air,” Noah says.

  I do.

  “Look up at that big blue sky,” he adds.

  I do.

  “Let me find you some mud so your skin won’t dry out.” He picks me up and moves me into a shallow puddle of water.

  Oh, joy! I do love mud and muck!

  “Thank you,” I say. “BOING-BOING!”

  “You deserve some time in the wild,” Noah explains.

  I gaze out and see the wide expanse of water. The grass around me is so full of flies and butterflies, crickets, mosquitoes and dragonflies, I think my heart will burst. (And maybe my stomach after I catch as many as I can.) Memories of McKenzie’s Marsh flood my brain.

  I feel like I’m at home.

  Froggins and Friends

  There’s always room in the heart for a new friend.

  —Granny Greenleaf’s Wildlife Wisdom

  Suddenly, the chorus of green frogs gets louder.

  “Who goes there?” it asks. “Green frog, who are you?”

  The frogs sound friendly enough, but I can’t see them because I’m still far from the water, and there’s so much tall grass between me and the lake.

  “Green frog, where are you?” they all boing. “Are you friend, or are you foe?”

 
“Friend!” I say, hoping they are friends in return.

  “WE CAN’T HEAR YOU!” the chorus shouts.

  I take a few leaps closer to the lake.

  I hear Noah’s voice. “Og? Og!”

  “I AM OG,” I yell in my biggest boing. Then I realize that Og is the name humans call me. In case any of my old swamp friends are out there, I add, “But my real name is Bongo! I came from McKenzie’s Marsh!”

  There is silence for a moment, and finally, they answer. “WHO ARE YOU, OG? WHERE ARE YOU?”

  I guess none of my old friends are here after all.

  I take a few more hops through the tall grass but stay low so they can’t see me . . . yet.

  “Og! Og! Og! Og!” they chant.

  “I come in friendship,” I reply. “FRIENDSHIP!”

  I hear footsteps behind me. “Og? Come back. I need to take you back to camp,” Noah says.

  “Just a few seconds more,” I say, even though he can’t understand me. I take several large leaps toward the lake.

  “Og? Where are you?” Noah calls out.

  He sounds much farther away. I guess I took more leaps than I thought.

  “Please come back, Og.” Noah sounds worried, but I’m listening for the calls of the green frogs and enjoying the gentle breeze swaying the tall grass around me.

  “This is Lake Lavender!” the frogs cry out.

  Off in the distance, I hear Noah. “Og, show me where you are!” He sounds frantic.

  Suddenly, I am almost at the edge of the lake. Cool blue water stretches before me as far as I can see.

  I should go back now, of course. Back where Humphrey and all my human friends are waiting. But for now, it’s strange and wonderful to speak and be understood again! After I catch a glimpse of these green frogs, I’ll hoppily hurry back to Noah.

  “OG!!!!” Noah sounds desperate, but his voice is muffled, while the green frogs sing out loud and clear.

  Welcome, welcome, to you,

  Welcome, welcome, to you.

  Og, tell us your story!

  Welcome, welcome, to you.

  I take one more giant leap. Splash! My toes are in the cool, delicious water of Lake Lavender.

  A fly buzzes by, and I grab him with my tongue. Yum!

  Suddenly, I am eyeball to eyeball with a large green frog, who says, “Can I help you?”

  And I don’t hear Noah at all.

  “Hello,” I answer. “What’s your name?”

  “I am Froggins Frog,” he says.

  “I’m a frog, too,” I tell him.

  Froggins chuckles. “I already know that. But tell us, where have you come from?”

  “I come from pretty far away. I guess you’d say I’m from the Great Unknown,” I explain.

  “Ahhh!” the frogs all exclaim.

  “At least that’s what we called it back in McKenzie’s Marsh,” I continue. “Right now, I’m staying at the camp up the hill.”

  Froggins’s eyes shift as he gazes up the hill. “Humans live there. Frogs and humans don’t mix.”

  Way back in the swamp, I guess I believed that, too. But not anymore.

  I change the subject. “Nice lake you have here. It’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen.”

  “It is the only lake.” Froggins sounds awfully sure of himself. Doesn’t he know there’s a great big world out there?

  I don’t want to argue with him, so I change the subject again. “Where are your friends? I heard them singing.”

  There’s a rustling in the grass behind Froggins.

  “Step up, frog family. It is safe,” he says.

  The other green frogs take a step closer.

  “Are you sure, Froggins?” one frog timidly asks. “Who is he? How did he get here?”

  “Come and ask Og for yourself,” Froggins tells the group. “Can’t you see he’s our brother? Where are your manners?”

  The whole group hops closer, but they stay well behind Froggins.

  “Welcome, Og,” they say in a chorus.

  “Thank you,” I say. “I guess I’m lost. And my skin feels dry in this hot sun.”

  Froggins hops into the water, and I follow.

  BING-BANG-BOING, it feels good! Why didn’t anybody tell me there was such cool and refreshing water so close to camp? With such a variety of tasty snacks!

  Ah, my skin starts to soften, and I feel like my old self again.

  The green frogs just stare at me as I float in the water.

  I’m not sure what they find interesting about watching me float. After all, they’re frogs that float, too. But as Granny Greenleaf likes to say, “If the waters are calm, don’t make waves,” so I try to relax. Float. Doze. Be.

  I also listen for Noah’s voice, but I haven’t heard it for a long time.

  After a while, I get bored, so I hop back up on shore. “Thanks,” I tell Froggins. “I feel a lot better.”

  The other green frogs gather around me in a circle. They still can’t take their eyes off me, even though we all look pretty much the same.

  “Brother Og, may we ask you some questions?” Froggins says.

  I tell him they can ask anything they want.

  “Why did you come here?” one shy frog asks in a soft boing.

  “I guess you’d say it was an accident,” I explain. “I didn’t plan on coming here.”

  “You said you were up the hill, with the humans,” another frog asks. “But how? Humans are not our friends.”

  I pause before I answer, because I don’t think they’ll believe me. “Many humans—and other creatures—are friends to me.”

  The shy frog shivers. “That is unnatural.”

  “You see, Brother Og, we try to stay away from humans. For most of the year, Lake Lavender is beautiful. In the spring, everything turns green, and there’s plenty of food. In the fall, the world turns red and gold, and there is so much beauty to behold,” Froggins explains.

  I nod in agreement. “I know it well.”

  “In winter, we sleep peacefully,” Froggins continues. “But in summer . . . they come and invade our beautiful Lake Lavender.”

  I’m pretty sure I know who he means by they.

  “Splashing, swimming, running over nests and disturbing homes with their canoes and heavy paddles, stealing our fish, sometimes killing our delicious insects,” he says. “They are barbaric.”

  What he says is correct, and yet I know how kind humans can be as well.

  Every species intrudes on other species. That’s just the way it is.

  I must be careful in my answer. I don’t want to upset them. “That’s true. And yet many humans have been extremely kind to me. They have welcomed me into their homes.”

  There’s a huge gasp from the green frogs gathered around me.

  “You, Brother Og, are a rare frog, unlike any I have ever met,” Froggins says. “You have wisdom that goes far beyond the lake. Beyond the hills. Beyond the sky.”

  I wouldn’t exactly call what I’ve learned at Longfellow School, in human homes and at camp wisdom beyond the sky, but I guess it is wisdom beyond this lake.

  “No, I’m a just regular frog who has had some unusual experiences,” I say. “And I can’t say that all humans are bad. In fact, right now there are some humans who are probably worried about me.”

  The campers! I’ve been so wrapped up in froggy conversation, I wasn’t thinking about my friends. They must know I’m missing by now. They’ll be out looking for me.

  They might even come back to the lake for me! My heart lifts a little thinking of that.

  I imagine their worried faces: Miranda, Sayeh, Richie, Garth, Ms. Mac, Katie.

  And I imagine another small and worried face: Humphrey’s. He gets upset when anything goes wrong for a friend, and he’s done so many favors fo
r me.

  “It is hard to believe there is kindness in humans,” Froggins says.

  “I have other friends, too,” I admit. “Like my furry little friend, Humphrey.”

  The green frogs of Lake Lavender hop away from me in horror.

  “Fur?” one of them says. “Fur is bad.”

  “Anything furry is our enemy,” another frog agrees.

  Some of what they say is true. Bears, wolves, foxes . . . I’d steer clear. But not Humphrey. All I can tell them is, “Not always.”

  The green frogs whisper to one another, then one steps out of the circle, closer to me.

  “Brother Og, now we know who you are,” she announces. “We have longed to meet you for so long, and we are honored you are here.”

  Longed to meet me? They didn’t even know about me until today.

  She continues, “Each night we watch you up in the sky, twinkling at us. Each night we sing to you.”

  Froggins nods. “You have heard our song. Thank you for honoring us with your presence.”

  I’m as mixed up as a mosquito in a snowstorm.

  I start to explain that I’m not from the sky, and then I understand. When my friends and I used to look at the stars at night, old Uncle Chinwag would point out a group of stars in the sky. If you use your imagination, it looks something like a frog.

  Then Uncle Chinwag would tell us a story. “Since ancient times, it is said that the stars that make up the Star Frog at night are real frogs during the day. They drop to earth to roam across great lands and learn about the earth. When the sun goes down, they leap back up to the sky to share their stories.”

  A Star Frog sounds something like the great frog explorer, Sir Hiram Hopwell. But somehow, this group thinks I am one of those frogs.

  I don’t have time to object, because they begin to sing in beautiful harmony.

  Hello, Star Frog, how are you?

  Hope you’re hoppy; we are, too.

  Someday may you leave the sky,

  Stay with us a little while.

  Tell us how it feels to light

  The dark sky up every night.