A horrible surprise awaited us upon our awakening. Both ponds had become infested by duckweed, and some of the aquatic plants had died, becoming brown and slimy. It was also very hard to breathe inside the pond, as if the water had become completely stagnant. There was a peculiar smell to it, one that I didn’t particularly like.

Ghrruk and I quickly left, brushing off the duckweed from us and feasting on several nearby insects.

“The grass has become quite tall, don’t you think?” she said, and she was right. The grass had become taller than usual.

“Maybe Thomas’s father stopped cutting it now his son isn’t there to help him?” I suggested.

Deciding it didn’t matter, as long as we had food, we headed towards the fence, moving the grass blades out of our way. When we arrived at the fence, however, the grass at the other side was about equally as high.

“What is going on here?” Ghrruk asked. “The grass is never that small because Mrs. Whibbles waddles here all the time. Do you think she’s gone?”

“Only one way to find out,” I said and we hurried to the bottom of the spiked trees.

Insects were flourishing on the litterfall of dead leaves and other branches. We ate some more and went on our journey to the goose’s pool. When we arrived, however, there was still no trace of her. Worse, even, small patches of grass had started to grow where once, nothing but mud was. Her pool was clear, with a thick layer of dirt at the bottom and many, many insects within.

“This is not normal,” I said. “If she’s not here, it can mean only one thing.”

“She died?”

“Don’t make me hopeful,” I said, truly wishing this was true. Part of me thought it was, since she was nowhere to be seen. “I think you’re right, though. The cold must’ve killed her.”

“If that’s the case,” Ghrruk said, her face lighting up, it’ll make it much easier for us to move freely around, find more food, and possibly find an escape route.”

“Speaking of which,” I said, “we’ve passed by the kennel without taking a look inside. Let’s go and see how much the hole has opened since we were last here.”

We hopped towards the kennel, not worrying about the goose for the very first time since we came here, and entered the stone enclosure. It was much dirtier than usual, with lots of leaves, even the skeleton of a dead bird and…

“This can’t be real,” uttered Ghrruk.

Unfortunately, it was. Where the hole had partially opened again before our slumber, it had been completely resealed.

“I don’t understand,” I cried. “No signs of Thomas, Mrs. Whibbles has vanished, and the hole has been resealed – again!”

“Let’s take a look at the holed door and the door where Thomas and his father live,” Ghrruk suggested, already hopping out of the kennel. “We might find a definitive answer there.”

Things didn’t look good for us. The hole under the door had also been sealed. We were trapped inside the garden. Where once were beautiful flowers next to the stone path we were hopping on, was nothing but dirt and weeds.

The home door was closed with no way in. Small grass blades and other plants were sneaking between the crevasses of the stone path. Everything seemed desolate.

“What now?” I asked.

“There,” Ghrruk pointed at Thomas’s room window. “The wall is a little easier to hang on to. I’m sure we can climb up the ledge and have a look inside.”

“Have a look inside?” I repeated. “Are you mad? What if Thomas’s father sees us? He could run outside and try to eat us.”

“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” said Ghrruk, moving towards the base of the window. “Didn’t you tell me he simply wanted to flush you down the toilet? I’m the only one he’d snap in half, so don’t you worry.”

I was worried. Not only for Ghrruk’s well-being, but for mine as well. I couldn’t imagine being flushed down the toilet – whatever that might be – would be a very pleasant experience. Though it was probably not as bad as being pulled in half.

Ghrruk began her climb, stretching her legs out as much as she could, finding good places to hang on. Slowly but surely she was making her way up.

I blew some air out of my nostrils. “I can’t believe I have to do this as well…”

Careful not to fall, I followed her path, grabbing onto small cavities in the stones, pulling myself up, up, up, until I arrived at the window ledge moments later than Ghrruk. She was already looking inside the window, her mouth wide open.

“Found anything, or do you simply like to look at that curtain?” I asked jokingly.

She simply shook her head and asked me to join her. I did.

“The curtain,” I uttered. “It’s – it’s gone! And there’s nothing in that room.”

“Completely empty,” said Ghrruk. “I think the humans are gone, Carmine.”

“I didn’t want to believe it, but I think you’re right,” I said. “Mrs. Whibbles, the state of the garden and our pond, the lack of signs that Thomas came, the sealing of both holes.”

“Wait,” she said. “Why are the holes sealed anyway? If they leave, why not leave it as it is?”

“Probably the father,” I said, recalling all the interactions I had with that vile human being. “I’m sure he was the one who did it before they left. To spite us. To let us die of hunger in this garden. I don’t think we should lay eggs this year, Ghrruk.”

“It’s in our nature,” she answered. “We’ll lay them either way. And maybe that, with all that tall grass, more insects will appear and there will be more food for all of us, no?”

Glancing over the garden, overgrown with grass and weeds, full of flying insects and sparrows flying in and out, I quickly understood that she was wrong. This place had never been in such an amazing – or awful, depending on how you look at it – state before. Yet there were some truth that needed to be told.

Shaking my head, I explained the issue to Ghrruk. “Maybe not this year. But next year. Or the year after that. There will come a time were we will have too many frogs in this garden and not enough food. It’s only a matter of time.”

“What can we do about it, Carmine?”

“Wait and see,” I said after a few moments of consideration. “That’s all we’ve ever been able  to do.”

 

* * *

 

Days turned into weeks, and we ended up laying more eggs. The sheer amount of eggs made me uneasy about our future. Until yet another unexpected event happened. For days prior, we began to hear many strange noises, loud noises, machinery and tremors, reminding us of our birthplace being destroyed.

“Oh no,” cried Ghrruk, looking at the tadpoles that had barely left the comfort of their egg. “What if humans come here and destroy this place?”

“I’m not sure they’re going to,” I said. “After all, this is human-made. I have come to understand why they did it with our birthplace – to construct something for humans – but this is of human construction. There is no way they would destroy it, wouldn’t they?”

I couldn’t have been more wrong. Not long after that, pieces of the wall started to crumble.

Ghrruk and I, as well as many, many other frogs stood outside of our pond, watching the wall near the house door crumble to the ground. The sounds were loud and the quakes scared us. Some frogs decided to hide in the pond or somewhere near the end of the garden. Not Ghrruk and me. We knew that if the walls were going down, we’d have a way to escape this garden. But would we be able to get out of here alive?

“Carmine, look!” Ghrruk exclaimed, nodding at the door. It fell down, a yellow beast with many teeth at the end of an arm scraping it away in a cloud of grey.

The beast kept grabbing onto pieces of walls all around, taking away piece by piece. Beyond, there was a giant wheelbarrow in which those pieces went in. When it was full, it left, as if it were alive. I was certain it was a manmade object, just like the yellow beast in front of us, tearing apart those walls.

“When will be able to leave?” she asked, her body quivering like never before, eyes riveted on the arm.

“I don’t know,” I answered. “We must wait and seize our chance at the right time. If we flee now, those big walls will fall on us and that’d be the end.”

Anxious, scared, doubtful yet hopeful. That’s how we all felt as the destruction kept going. When the sun was going down, the grating sounds and roar of those beasts ceased to be. Humans were jumping out of them, astonishing our little frogly eyes.

One of them ambled in our direction, holding something in his mouth that made smoke. We hopped inside the pond, but he had noticed.

“Frogs?” he uttered in disbelief, his large feet standing a little over the edge. Shaking his half-yellow head, he said, “Poor creatures. Tomorrow’s gonna be a massacre.”

The man breathed in more smoke, and, as he exhaled it, threw the white piece from which the smoke came into our pond and wandered off. The smell that it propagated throughout the water was sickening, so much so, we left immediately after.

“Did you hear what that human just said?” Ghrruk asked me, her fingers nervously tapping the blackness. “We’re all going to die tomorrow.”

“Not unless we leave now,” I said.

“Now?” she repeated. “At night? In complete darkness? What if there’s a predator? A cat or a bird or something even more scary?”

“Then,” I said, taking a deep breath, “it will be the end of our journey.” Ghrruk tilted her head sideways. “If we are going to die tomorrow, why not leave this place today and die as free frogs?”

“But I don’t want to die,” Ghrruk uttered.

“Neither do I,” I replied. “But today is our only chance. Will you come with me?”

Ghrruk stayed there for a moment, and, every moment she did, we lost precious light from the sun, which had already changed the sky into an orange hue. Finally, she nodded. “Let’s go, then.”

“Wait,” I said, remembering that we weren’t the only ones here. I turned direction our pond and shouted as loud as I could, “Frogs of the garden. Listen to me. When the sun rises again, it will be the last sunrise this garden will see. The humans will come and completely destroy this place. If you wish to survive, hop to where the house door was to freedom. What lies beyond, I do not know. All I know is that it is better to survive a little longer than to die a certain death. Tell all the other frogs and may most of us escape to freedom.”

Then I hopped on with Ghrruk. She had a look of concern, so I asked her what she was upset about.

“There are still many tadpoles inside the ponds,” she whispered. “They can’t leave, can they?”

“If we survive, there will be many, many more tadpoles to come. Those in the pond have their fates sealed. We cannot do a thing about them.”

Even though she didn’t seem to agree with my (not caring syn) sentiment, Ghrruk stayed silent and hopped on until we arrived near where the door was. After all, we had more pressing matters at legs.

The rubbles were plentiful, clouds of grey and yellow particles floating all around. We had to carefully clamber on and around pieces of rocks and other debris, making sure to avoid any sharp object. And sharp objects were plentiful, too, sticking from all kinds of angles. The particles stuck to our skin and quickly dried us on top of making it terribly itch.

Just before the last sun rays disappeared beyond the natural wall, we came out of the rubble on top of a rocky surface, not unlike the garden path.

“What now?” said Ghrruk.

“Now, we try to find water to shed this grey stuff off us and survive.”

But it was easier said than done. For some time we went where our instinct guided us, where the wind blew something of a freshness. We grew tired, as we weren’t used to stay awake for so long into the night. Then, as if a miracle had happened, we found a nice patch of long grass. Without any concern for our safety, we fell asleep instantly.

Sometime before dawn, we woke up together. The deep blue sky began to shift to a lighter colors, grey clouds showed some white and orange. It was also much easier to see around us.

The patch of grass was on the verge of a humanmade stone path that was dark and very large. Maybe as large as the small side of our garden. From where we were, we could see the destruction of Thomas’s home, as well as having a glimpse of the garden’s greenery.

“Carmine?” Ghrruk called.

“Yes?”

“I just realized… We’re finally free.”

“We are.”

“But I don’t feel any different. Why?”

I pondered about this for a while. Having no good answer, I said, “Maybe because we haven’t found water?” She accepted my answer and we kept wandering through the grass.

The morning dew rubbed off a lot of the grey stuff and rehydrated us a little. But it wasn’t enough. Nor were the few aphids we found on a plant.

Once the sun shone brighter, our sensed were stronger. My drying nostrils were detecting something; my ears heard a familiar melody.

Water. Streaming water.

Ignoring Ghrruk’s questions, I wandered through the grass blades until I was certain I could hear and smell the delicious water. Ghrruk had also realized it and became quiet, following my lead.

The grass blades lessened, and the ground was tilting downwards. Through a patch of grassless earth, we finally saw it. A beautiful water stream, several thick trees offering it enough shade for us to strive.

“Water,” Ghrruk said, scurrying towards the stream so quickly she tumbled down and  splashed inside. Fortunately, the stream wasn’t quick enough to sweep her away. “Oh, Carmine! Come, come! You must feel that water. It’s so fresh, so… delicious.”

I went after her with a calculated hop, graciously landing in the current. There wasn’t much depth, about enough for two frogs to stay down on top of each other. But it was more than enough for us, who were tired, dirty, and finally freed from the humanmade garden.

Ghrruk had never been happier in her entire life. She jumped, splashed water all around, swam upstream then let herself slide to me.

“This place is magnificent, Carmine. Who would’ve known there was so much water nearby? I thought the stream had been destroyed with the forest we were in.”

“Thomas did say that the stream had vanished,” I said, recalling his recounting of our saving. “But he only said the stream in the forest had vanished. Water must come from somewhere, as he had once explained. So maybe our water came from here.”

Ghrruk froze, her mouth wide open. “If that’s true – if water must come from somewhere, then it must also mean that it goes somewhere, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose.”

“Then, this water may be going to a pond, a large pond,” she said, her voice  so ecstatic she was shrieking in joy. “If we follow it, we might find the pond you spoke about. What do you say?”

“You may be on to something. However,” I added, and I could see the look of concern on her frogly face, “I want to stay here for a few days. I want to see the result, what happens to our pond.”

“Why?” she asked as if I had said something very upsetting. “Why do you wish to return to the place that stole our freedom?”

“I don’t know. Instinct,” I said earnestly. “Besides, I want to see how much things change. Just like the place we were rescued from. Does it make sense to you?”

She shook her head. “You’re a madfrog. But do what you wish. Now we’re free, what are a few days more? As long as we arrive there before the warm days end, I’m fine.”

Having agreed upon all that, we kept playing there for the rest of the day, catching some delicious bug living around, and having the best day of our lives.