Warm days had returned, and with two ponds, it was a lot of fun to hop from one to the other. However, it wasn’t until Thomas had decorated it with stones and other aquatic plants that I dared to use it as a resting place with my three favorite brethren. I created new hideouts with Ghrruk, some underneath plants, others between rocks. Although I was very fond of the twin rock hideout in our home pond, I also liked the new quad rock hideout in the corner of the new pond.

Every night, we had to decide where we would sleep. As days passed, however, we sometimes slept in different ponds. Whichever we choose, I always made sure that I was with Ghrruk. There was no way we would end up separated again like last time – which seemed to have happened such a long time ago.

“Don’t you want to sleep with Rhugug or Figgug sometimes?” Ghrruk asked one night.

“I’m fine,” I said, huddling closer to her. “I want to see you at least once a day, or else I’ll begin to worry.”

A small trail of bubbles left her mouth. “You’ve become a very odd frog, Carmine, you know that?”

I nodded. “Yes. Just like you were. Except… odder, maybe.”

“You’re definitely odder,” she said.

 

* * *

 

We woke up to a commotion coming nearby. Not from our pond, but from somewhere else.

“What do you think –” I began, when Ghrruk gave me the answer I was overlooking.

“The new pond!” she squeaked. “They’re getting attacked. Listen closely.”

I moved my head and heard faint cries for help.

Not again. Can’t we ever live in peace? Why are we always under attack?

Then I remembered, “Rhugug and Figgug. They’re in the new pond.”

“They are,” Ghrruk said, her head stooping a little, otherwise staying still.

“Aren’t you worried?” I asked, wondering why she wasn’t trying to do anything.

“Of course I am,” she snapped. “But what do you want us to do? If we leave our hideout, we’re the ones who are going to get killed by whatever is up there. The only sensible thing we can do is stay low, hope that the predators won’t come our way and that Rhugug and Figgig were quick enough to stay low near the quad rocks until Thomas arrives.”

Thomas, I thought. She puts too much faith in him.

Of course, there was no way I would vocalize that, unless I wanted to have a fight with her. She was probably the frog who loved him the most.

So we stayed, waited, wincing every time we heard those dreadful sounds. Scream after scream after scream. The horror seemed to be never-ending.

Thud – thud – thud – thud – thud.

We raised our heads at the same time.

“Thomas,” uttered Ghrruk. “Our savior has arrived.”

“Get away from here, you!” Thomas was shouting from above. “And never come back.”

Ghrruk looked at me. “Let’s go.”

We rapidly swam up. Under cover of duckweed, we slowly made our way to the sand bank, and, when Thomas was busy rescuing frogs in the other pond, we climbed up and sneaked near him.

“I can’t believe it,” Thomas grumbled, working on the net that he had placed above the pond. “How are those storks able to turn this net over. It wasn’t that windy last night. Where are they even coming from – oh.”

We looked up as he did and saw a couple of storks perched near the tip of the birch tree. Next to them was a fluffy bit of sticks and twigs.

A nest!

“That – that’s a problem…” Thomas mumbled. “Stay here, little froggies, I’ll be right back.”

Hard to move from here, I thought, watching him leave us, likely to get his stick to shoot those pesky birds down.

But I was wrong. Upon his return, he was holding tools to repair the net. Nothing more.

“What’s that about?” I said to Ghrruk, who looked as confused as I was.

“If I can’t take them down,” Thomas muttered, “I’ll have to strengthen this net. Maybe put a new one on top, a little higher, like a second barrier or something?”

Yes, but what about shooting those birds?

With a few final touches, the net was once more protecting the top of the second pond.

“There,” he said, glancing back up, holding a hand above his eyes. “I’m sorry, my little frogs. Stork nests bring good luck. Besides, I’m not going to repeat the same mistake and kill an animal that’s going to have babies soon. In fact, I don’t think I will ever kill any other animal ever again.” Thomas stared down.

Suddenly, high above us were cries of distress. Thomas gazed up, gasped, and returned to his house once more.

“They’re fighting,” Ghrruk remarked, pointing her head at the nest.

Several other white and black birds I had never seen before were flying around the tree, diving at the storks and their nest.

I can’t believe it… More predators…

I wasn’t happy that those predators were attacked by other, maybe even more dangerous predators. But I needn’t worry long, because Thomas hurried back, this time holding his stick. This puzzled me even further.

Aiming at the top of the tree, Thomas moved the stick round and round, muttering something under his breath, until –

Tchak. Tchak. Tchak – tchak.

“Got one on his tail!” he shouted in excitement, jumping up and down. “They’re flying away! Yes!”

Ghrruk and I exchanged glances, wondering whether the other knew what had just happened. Having no answer, we simply waited for Thomas to speak, which he did, eventually, after placing the stick back home.

“Ah, I hate this,” he said with a deep sigh as he sat down between ponds. “I really hate to shoot. I was trembling, scared to kill one of the birds. Glad I could scare those darned magpies away from the nest.” His fingers plucked the grass blades next to him. “Funny, isn’t it? How I killed a stork, how I killed a cat, how excited I was both times – even now. But in the end, I realized that it wasn’t up to me to do these things, and that they could have dire consequences for those animals. Yet here I am, shooting again, when I said seconds before I wouldn’t do it no more.”

Thomas laid down in the center, covering his eyes from the sun. “Ah, I’m so confused.”

So are we…

“I want to do good,” he continued. “I really do. But it’s hard to know what is good and what isn’t, you know?”

Not really.

He sighed. “If I didn’t kill that stork, or the cat for that matter, then they would’ve certainly eaten even more of you guys. I want to protect you, to keep you alive and well. But at the same time, I feel like I went too far, especially with the cat.” Thomas’s voice was shaking. “Instead of trying to seek revenge for your fallen brothers and sisters I should’ve simply asked Dad to seal that hole shut and it would’ve been the end of that.”

Thomas got up and breathed deeply in and out a few times before he left.

That night, he returned to feed us and brought something new with him. It was a white object that looked like a deformed, leafless tree of sorts. He also brought another, slightly larger one, on which he put human food and drink. Then, grabbing a piece of food once every n ow and then – food which made strange cracking noises, not unlike when I would eat pill bugs – he just sat back on the first white object, legs spread, arms dangling down, and head locked with the sky.

“Beautiful,” he said. “What more can a man wish?”

Man? I thought, remembering he got angry with his father when he called him that, saying that he was still a kid in school or something. But I couldn’t communicate with him, and, even if I could, I wouldn’t have interrupted his monologue.

“A nice summer breeze,” he went on, “a cloudless, starry night-sky, and croaking frogs.”

Oh, that’s right. He did say he was looking forward to hear our “beautiful voices”.

“It’s the first time I hear you guys croak,” he said, head still hanging back. “My biology teacher said you might not croak until next year. But some do. And I’m glad you did. I really needed this after today. What a day, what a day…”

Through the croaking of my brethren, I could hear him sigh noticeably many, many times. He would sigh, wait, sigh again, and keep repeating the same pattern. There’d be a mumble here, a longer monologue there.

Is he that upset that he shot that bird’s tail? I wondered.

The night had now completely fallen. Bird-like creatures, called bats, were zooming around the garden, eating various flying insects with their open mouths as they emitted bizarre sounds. I didn’t like those noises because they felt like an attack screech. But they never harmed us. They kept circling our pond, only feeding on flying creatures.

Lucky that frogs are wingless creatures.

Though some of my brethren were still having fun croaking, I began to feel a little sleepy. It was at that moment that Thomas seemed to have snapped out of it. As if he had been sleeping the whole time. I knew he hadn’t. Moments ago, he’d eaten the last cracking foodstuff.

Yawning loudly, Thomas stretched his arms and gave a short but loud yell that scared me. He then leapt up and grabbed something from his pocket. Tiptoeing, he approached our ponds, upon which he touched the object.

I was startled when I saw light emanating out of it, illuminating the ponds as if a small sun was in his hands. The brightness shut some of my brethren up.

“Where are you…”

Oh, no… He’s looking for me, I’m certain of it.

“Hmmm… not here, not here… Oh!” he exclaimed. “There you are, Carmine.”

Not again.

I decided not to move. I wanted to walk to the water, not jump into it. But if I was forced to, I would have.

“Come on, don’t be shy. Croak on.”

Croak? I thought. I don’t croak. I never did. I never will.

Thomas sat down, shining the light on me. It was really bright and I didn’t like it. At all.

“Please, Carmine,” he said, lowering the light a little, probably just enough to see me. “I really need this.”

You might need this, but I don’t croak.

“I – she… Ah… I’m just sad today. Sad about those animals I killed. Confused that I almost did it again, and… and…” Thomas began to sob and sigh a lot again.

What is wrong with this human today? He’s acting really weirdly.

Regaining some composure, Thomas wiped his tears. “I think we broke up,” he muttered. “Tiffany and I got into a fight and… It’s about something so stupid, but I just can’t… Ah, why am I even talking to you guys anyway? At my age, it’s pathetic. Talking to frogs who don’t even understand a word of what I’m saying. What am I doing with my life.”

Thomas clicked on the device and the light finally went out. But my eyes kept seeing several bright, colorful spots for a while, even though the garden wasn’t illuminated at all. Outside of the soft light coming from Thomas’s window, of course.

He walked back without a word. Then, suddenly, as if something had crossed his mind, he returned, bowed, and said, “Goodnight, froggies. Sorry for being so rude. I’m just… not feeling well today. Bye now.”

Thomas trudged back home, creaking the door open and shut.

I walked off the sand bank of the first pond and dove to the twin rock hideout, where Ghrruk and Figgug were already waiting for me. Well, waiting. They were already fast asleep. Usually, they were awake earlier than me, sleeping earlier as well. Only Rhugug would sleep the latest and wake up the earliest.

I wish I could talk to Ghrruk now.

I really wish I could have. She, who loved Thomas like no one else, would have been able to clarify certain things about this odd human behavior. Sadness for a lost mate. How silly.

That’s when it hit me.

He’s just like me. Exactly like when Ghrruk left me in the last warm season. I was also sad, looking for her everywhere, hoping she was all right.

I couldn’t fall asleep for some time. I was thinking, trying to create connections between me and Thomas to better understand what had happened. At the end, though, I realized that we were, in fact, not alike at all. He was sad because of a fight with his mate. I was sad because I thought I had lost a sister.

After all, we were not the same.