Before we knew it, the leaves started to fall once more, creating this beautiful pallet of rich colors of death. Without a hole to escape and cats to come in, without avian predators to come and gobble us up, and without humans prowling on us, the days flew by like a cool, windy day.

Granted, we needed to explore the door hole that Ghrruk had found, yet we had security, serenity, and whatever our little hearts desired. Except for the disappearance of Mrs. Whibbles. But she wasn’t behaving too badly as of late. Part of me hoped she was getting old, or better even, sick. Though, if she were to disappear, I had the feeling that Thomas would soon replace her with another creature, perhaps fiercer than this one. The thought dampened my expectations.

Not much else happened during that period. Thomas and his father seemed to have reconciled, though not entirely. Their relationship had… evolved. The father wasn’t as haughty as he used to be with his son, and Thomas wasn’t as talkative anymore when he was nearby.

“He apologized,” he had explained while sitting near our ponds during one of the last warm days. “It caught me off guard. I don’t think he means it, though. He did it so I wouldn’t ignore him the whole time. The only thing he was sincere about was the promise he made never to hurt you again, so there’s that.”

Thomas was also talking about next year being very special to him. That around the same time now, he’d be in college, which is another word for school after school. It didn’t make sense to me, but he seemed pretty happy.

Another thing he explained was the process we went through the previous year, called hibernation. “The long sleep,” as he’d call it. I went through it again that year when, on a frigid day, I suddenly became very drowsy. Ghrruk had already slumbered together with Rhugug, so Figgug and me followed lead that very cold day, comfortably tucking into the sediment near the twin rocks.

Next thing I knew, warmth reappeared and all was good. I often wondered what happened during the cold period. Well, I partially knew, since Thomas always talked about a white and cold substance called snow that would fall and which he could use to create objects. The part that was most unbelievable was that this snow would turn into water afterwards. Strange stuff.

Stranger even, was that I felt different that year. As the heat crept in, I felt a peculiar warmth buzzing inside me as well. Other frogs, brothers as well as sisters, felt the same. As Thomas would say, like a fuzzy feeling deep inside.

This new sensation changed the character of our brothers. Rhugug and Figgug became quite aggressive during that period, and I soon understood why.

One such day, a female from the second pond was being mounted by a male. They were getting ready to accouple. Then, another male arrived and tried to mount the female as well.

“Out of my way, you feeble, slimy froglet,” he said, trying to push the firstcomer off with his front legs.

“I was here first,” protested the first one, unable to stay on top of the female.

“And I’m the strongest, so move.”

While both males were fighting, a third one approached and tried to mount her as well. The two others noticed and it was the start of an all-out brawl, which many other brethren watched. Maybe not all of them. Some were too busy accoupling, too.

At the end, the second male claimed victory – a victory that was short lived. The female, still in water due to being constantly dragged down by the clashing males, ended up drowning. Without even a second thought, the three males left her to find another female to scale.

“Scary, isn’t it?” Ghrruk said. “Do you feel ready, Carmine?”

I waved my eyes. “Yes, I think I am. You too, I suppose?”

“Of course,” she beamed. “This is finally our time to shine and lay many, many eggs, birthing a new generation of tadpoles.”

“Who will be imprisoned with us, here,” I added.

Ghrruk shook her head. “We will find a way out. Once our eggs hatch into tadpoles, and that they grow into froglets, we shall leave.”

I didn’t want to argue, but I thought it was easier said than done. Froglets weren’t strong or experienced enough to leave this safe haven for the potentially dangerous outside world. Waiting one more year would yield the same outcome. We’d mate, lay eggs, wait, and what then? Leave that new generation all alone? I could. But could she? Could they all? I supposed they could. It didn’t make it easier in my eyes.

As most of us began to find mates – or rather, mates found us – Thomas entered the garden. He was very impressed by what he saw.

“You’re mating! Oh my God, I can’t believe it,” he exclaimed. “I’m finally going to get eggs and tadpoles!” He tiptoed around the ponds, careful not to interfere with our affairs. “Carmine? Where is he. I need to find him. He absolutely needs to find a female to – wait. Ca-Carmine?”

There I was, being mounted by Rhugug and another male. Thomas’s face had turned almost as white as my natural skin color.

“You – you’re a female… I – I never knew…” he muttered. “Should I rename you Scarlet, then?” He chuckled. “No, I won’t do that. Ghost, then Carmine, and then Scarlet? I don’t think so. Carmine it is, Carmine it stays. But, God! I had no idea you were a female! I always called you a ‘he’.” He laughed wholeheartedly. “That’s even more awesome! You’ll lay eggs. And then those eggs will become tadpoles – albino tadpoles – and I’ll have an entire garden full of white frogs. Oh, I’m so excited I can’t wait to see them and to take Tiffany back here to show her!”

I didn’t like that Thomas was  excited about the prospect of my progeniture being potentially easier to spot by predators. Worse even, was his next course of action.

“Hey – hey! He was there first,” Thomas yelled at once, thrusting his hand into the water.

Because I was being mounted, and everyone was in rut, most frogs didn’t seem to care or move away. Especially not the males.

Thomas grabbed Rhugug – with whom I truly wished to mate – and threw him away in favor of the other, weaker male.

“Much better,” Thomas said proudly, shaking water off his hand.

You’re making everything worse! I thought angrily. Then I shook the weaker male off me and dove deep down.

Thomas  was taken aback. “What the –? Carmine! What are you doing? He was the perfect match for you. Carmine? Come back, I can’t see you down there under all those algae or duckweed stuff.”

Though he tried to find me for a few moments, he soon gave up. I only resurfaced when he was gone. Fortunately, Rhugug and I reunited and accoupled like it was meant to be.

It didn’t take too long before I laid my first eggs in a patch of I-don’t-know-how-many. It seemed like there were hundreds of them. Thousands in total with all the rest. All round, slimy eggs with a black dot in the center spread across two different ponds. It was a scene to behold, and Thomas certainly enjoyed it, taking pictures of the both ponds every single day.

“Oh, that’s so awesome!” he said, jumping and dancing and singing. “This is the best day of my life. Maybe the second best, after Tiffany agreed to go out with me.”

Thomas entered the garden every single day, twice a day when he went to school, and many more when he wasn’t. He’d take pictures, observe our eggs from every corner of the pond and be excited for the simplest of things.

Then, one morning, the first tadpoles left their eggs, grazing them to gain the strength necessary to thrive within the pond. A few days later, when my eggs hatched, he looked a lot less excited.

“Wait, those are your eggs, Carmine, right?” he said, pursing his lips. “They’re… normal.”

Of course they are.

Laying down, his hands holding on the ledge of the first pond, he moved his head so close to the surface the tip of his nose touched it. “None of them are white,” he uttered, pushing himself back up. “What happened here? I was certain we’d have hundreds of albino tadpoles, just like you. Does your male counterpart also have to be albino? If that’s the case, it’s a shame.”

No, it isn’t. They’ll grow up healthy frogs that won’t need to be constantly aware of being seen by predators.

As the tadpoles grew, both ponds began to swarm with undulating black heads, agitating the surface. They feasted on the red worms Thomas brought, as well as small insects that swam around. Around that time, there were lots of wrigglers and copepods. I always found it strange how so many new creatures could thrive within our ponds, such as backswimmers, pond skaters, and pond snails. They weren’t there initially and Thomas had never added them in. How they got here was a mystery to all of us.

This abundance of new insects introduced new problems. They were big, especially the backswimmers and the dragonfly larvae. Big enough for them to feed on our young, chasing and stabbing them with their needles and mandibles. On top of that, they were too fast to stop, but not fast enough for us to eat. So many populated our pond that we couldn’t possibly eat them all. But every one fewer would help mitigate the loss of our young.

It was around that period that Thomas began to change drastically. He, who was thrilled to be accepted into the college of his dreams, now seemed to struggle with more problems than solutions.

One such days, he crouched by the pond, throwing pieces of white, fluffy bread to the tadpoles. It wasn’t too bad, but I preferred by far to eat insects than that strange human food.

“Should I?” he hesitated, staring at his right hand. “Here I go,” he said, gently immerge his hand into the pond once the small pieces of bread had gone into the tadpoles’ round bellies.

At first, the tadpoles fled from that giant hand lurking near the surface. Being small and inexperienced, they slowly returned to the hand, curious to see what this new thing was. Some began to mouth it, and, as more tadpoles thronged, they instantly devoured all the food they could find on it.

“Oh, that feels so good,” Thomas giggled. “It feels… amazing, actually. Soothing, even.”

From my vantage point between some grass blades, I saw a reddening on both hands that I hadn’t noticed before.

“Ow!” Thomas suddenly said, yanking his hand out of the water. Several tadpoles were ejected in the air and splashed right back in. “That hurt. I didn’t know you guys could bite!”

He checked his hand, especially where he had felt the pinching pain and, moments later, dipped it back in the pond. Any frog would’ve been wary of that sudden movement and vowed never to even go near that thing. Tadpoles, on the other hand, were different creatures, and rapidly returned to feed on those pieces of dead skin hanging from him.

“Be careful, all right?” he said. “I’ve got a lot of eczema here and I think my skin has a few sensitive areas. Ahhh… It feels so good when you graze my hand, like if you were slowly mowing off that stupid skin condition that makes me so itchy. You guys are so much better than those creams and lotions I have to apply. And your mouths tickle me a little.” He giggled again.

After a while, he seemed to have enough and gradually lifted his hand. The tadpoles were so voracious that some stayed attached to the skin, only releasing their hold once their entire bodies left the water.

“Thanks, little ones,” he said, wiping his hand on his clothes. “That felt amazing. I’m sure you’re a lot healthier than anything that witch of a dermatologist prescribes me.” He gazed longingly at the water, sighing a few times. “Ah, how nice it must be to stay inside the water all day, always hydrated and moisturized and never get skin diseases like me. How I envy you.”

Thomas walked off. Not to his house, but inside Mrs. Whibbles’s domain. There, he walked to the corner where I had dragged one of my dead brethren to and took several pictures.

“For Tiffany,” he explained upon his return. “She can’t come right now. And Dad is also here. But I promised to send her pictures.” A smile was drawn upon his face as he spread his arms wide and gazed at the blue sky full of fluffy white clouds, which reminded me of the bread. “Life is good, life is great.” He looked at our pond, sadness in his eyes. “But all good things must come to an end, I’m afraid. There’s a lot I haven’t talked about yet, my friends. Yes, lots of things are going to change now. Don’t worry, though. I’ll make sure you’re taken good care of.”

With these strange things said, he left. I pondered on them for some time, discussing with Ghrruk, Rhugug and Figgug about its meaning. Unable to come to a decisive conclusion, we simply went on with our lives, certain that he would soon explain everything to us.