Drafts: Frog Haven Chapter 9

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 and 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8

Chapter 9: The Animal and the Game

The animal looked as if it might be the size of a beaver, only its tail was round rather than flat. It splashed into the water, bobbed up and down like a seal a few times, and emerged sleek and dripping to run up the hill in smooth bounding leaps. It flung itself down the slide again, much like a child would.

“I think it’s playing,” Garryd breathed. “I didn’t know animals played like that.”

“Kittens and puppies do.”

“Yes, but this is a wild animal, and I bet it’s an adult.”

“Why?”

“Because baby animals are usually with their parents.” The animal was running up the hill again.

“You’re right,” Sissy said, “I wonder what it is. Let’s try to get a good look at it. We’ll have to figure it out for ourselves, or else we’ll have to tell my parents we disobeyed them cause they’ll ask were we saw it. I have a mammal field guide. It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out what it is[MNS1] .”

“That looks like fun,” Garryd commented.

“Yes, it does! I wish we could do it!” They sat and quietly watched the animal, which swamp lazily around the pond and then started sliding again.

Suddenly, Sissy had an awful feeling. She looked at her watch. It said 5:20. “We have to run, Garryd. If I am late again, I’m going to be in BIG trouble!”

“We’ll never make it; it’s too far,” Garryd was objecting as Sissy was scrambling to her feet. Sissy didn’t stop to argue. She took off at a run, pumping her legs as fast as she could. Running fast was not Sissy’s best skill, but she was good at running far without getting tired. Garryd passed her right away, pulled farther away, and ran ahead for a while, out across the pastures toward the dirt cliffs. Soon, however, he began to tire, and Sissy caught up with him and pulled ahead. Sissy wasn’t trying to race Garryd; she just wanted to be home by 5:30. And she didn’t want to leave him behind.

“Come on Garryd, hurry!”

Garryd moaned and put on a little burst of speed. Sissy’s lungs were burning. The cliff was just ahead. She scrambled up, flung herself on the ground, and rolled under the bottom wire. She was up and running without a pause. Garryd tried to go over the fence and caught his shorts, ripping a big ragged hole in the seat. They ran past the arboretum, the swings, the vegetable gardens, the orchard, the ball field, and up the little hill by the flower gardens. “See you later, Garryd,” Sissy gasped, flinging the words behind her. She burst into the house just as the mantle clock was chiming 5:30.

“I’m home,” she croaked.

“What did you do, run the Boston Marathon?” her father asked. “You are dripping with sweat. It’s a bath for you, right after supper.”

“Oh, Papa, do I have to? Can’t I play first, for a little while?” Sissy panted, still not recovered from the run. She had a stitch in her side and her lungs were burning.

“Go wash your hands. We’ll talk about it after supper.”

They had egg foo young for supper. Mom often made egg foo young or omelets or pancakes after Church dinners on Sundays. Egg foo young was her Mom’s favorite, because it was healthy but light. Sissy ate quietly for a few minutes, still catching her breath.

Then she said, “Hey Pa, why don’t we have a ball game tonight? The Knudsons have never played with us. Dr. Taylor, Mr. LeFevre, the other grownups and you could all play too.”

“Good idea,” said Marc, “dibs on Sven if he’ll play.”

“Dibs on Garryd,” Sissy said.

“Wait a minute, you guys are filthy and you have school tomorrow. You can’t stay up late. Ball games are for Friday and Saturday nights only.”

“How about a short game?” asked Michael. Michael was often the peacemaker.

“YEAH!” Sissy and Marc chanted simultaneously.

“Okay, but just four innings, and only if you guys can get it going by 6:30.”

“Hurray!” Usually, Sunday nights were a bore with baths and getting organized for school.

“I’ll check with Garryd and Sven!” Sissy shouted.

“I’ll do the LeFevres,” said Marc.

“I’ll call Kelvin Moore,” said Michael, grinning. Kelvin was an only child and had decided to adopt Michael as his pretend younger brother. He was always really nice to Michael.

“I’ll call Dr. Taylor and invite them,” said Papa.

“I’ll call the McAllister’s,” said Mom.

“I’ll call first and get the bats and balls after,” Michael said. He was always eager to help.

Garryd could play. Sven agreed to play, even though he’d be the oldest kid, and Nels decided to join them too, when Garryd explained Sissy’s request. Garryd said his father could play pretty well—he just had to watch more carefully than anyone else. Garryd and Sissy ran over to get Lyssa and Bill, even though his father said he’d call. By some miracle, everyone could come, and the game got going before 6:30.

Mom, in sympathy for Elke, decided that none of the Moms would play. She set up a card table with coffee, brownies and sugar cookies, and the Mom’s kept score and sat with Elke. Between innings, the kids and Dads raided the cookies. Mrs. Doolittle[MNS2] came over even though she didn’t have any kids, because she knew a little sign language and could interpret a little for Elke. Word spread fast on Van Vleck Drive. Mrs. Doolittle brought her famous lace cookies and added them to Mom’s cookies.

Sissy was psyched because she hit a home run in the first inning, driving in Bill and Guy LeFevre. Garryd hit a triple and drove in Michael. Nels hit a homer and drove in Garryd. Sissy’s father hit a double, but then Sissy hit a fly ball and Dr. Taylor caught it. Garryd hit a line drive to Sven who was pitching. Bill bunted and Paul grabbed the ball and tagged him.

The other team tied the game, and at the end of the fourth inning, it was still tied, so they had to play another inning. It was still tied at the end of the seventh inning and was getting dark. Finally, they had to call the game.

“We should have called it at the end of the fourth like we agreed,” Papa complained.

“No, it was a great game!”

“Well, make you showers quick, and get in bed.”

“Okay, Papa, and Pa,” she said, throwing her arms around him, “thanks for the game. Thanks a lot!”

Sissy’s father picked her up, hugged her, swung her around and around, and set her down again.

“You’re welcome honey.”

“I love you, Papa.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

When Sissy climbed into bed, she couldn’t find her pillow. She knew she had done something with it, but she couldn’t remember what. Oh, yeah. She had stuffed it under her bed. Sleepily, she got up, took off the dirty pillowcase, and stuffed it back under the bed. I’ll take care of it in the morning, she thought, half asleep. In the dining room, she reached into the linen closet for a clean pillowcase. Papa hadn’t found a new box for them since the starling [MNS3] inhabited the old one, and they all fell out on the floor. After she grabbed one from the heap, she shoved the wad back in the closet.

“Sissy, why are you still awake?” her Mom asked, as she emerged from the bathroom. “Oh, I guess you’re not, goodnight, honey.” She gave Sissy a kiss, carried her back into her room with her pillow in tow, and tucked her in. Sissy was sound asleep before her mother had the covers up.

---

[MNS1]Sissy nature notebook (later or earlier?)

[MNS2]The Chapter originally mentioning Mrs. Doolittle was deleted. Add Chapter back in or check for earlier references or Delete Mrs. Doolittle

[MNS3]Note reference to starling again—remove or elaborate, as that chapter was deleted. Or, add chapter back in.

Chapter 10

Drafts: Frog Haven, Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Interrupted Lesson

Sunday morning, Sissy sat in her usual spot next to Lyssa in the fourth pew. By craning her neck, which of course was against the rules, she managed to watch the people coming into the church. LeFevres took their usual spot near the back. Sissy thought that this was so that they could make a hasty exit of any of the kids was disturbing the peace. Paul and Guy had two younger brothers and a baby sister. Sissy was surprised to see Garryd and his family come in, a few minutes later. Garryd hadn’t mentioned anything about church, but then again, Sissy hadn’t mentioned it either.

The Knudsons sat in the pew behind the Taylors and Mancinis. Sissy did the introductions and Garryd interpreted for his parents. Sissy learned that Garryd’s parents’ names were Nels and Elke. When they rose for the first hymn, Sissy was sorry that Nels and Elke couldn’t hear it. The sound of singing filled the church, the sun shone through the stained glass windows, and it seemed as if God himself was contained in the song. Sissy wondered what it would be like to be standing there not hearing anything, but she couldn’t shut out the glorious swelling of song. She tried shutting her eyes, but that just made the singing stronger.

When Reverend Gordon began to preach, Sissy turned and saw Garryd signing to his parents. Sissy could see what an advantage knowing sign language would be in school, if she wanted to talk to her friends when the teacher wasn’t looking. She decided to ask Garryd to teach her. She watched him interpreting the small sermon and wondered if he would go to Sunday school with the kids or stay and do the big sermon. She was glad to see him go out but disappointed when she realized that he wouldn’t be in her class.

“Who’s going to help your parents now?”

“Sven. He thinks he’s too old for Sunday school. That’s okay with me. The big sermon is usually boring. At least it was at our old church. I’d rather let him do it. Only thing is, he’s not as good at it as I am. But he’s good enough, I guess.” Miss Quigley stuck her head out of the room and Lyssa and Sissy ducked in, after showing Garryd his room. When they peeked in, they saw Paul and Marc dancing around poking at each other and Bill sitting with his head down looking embarrassed.

It was church-dinner Sunday, and Mom’s covered dish of Spam-goulash (one of Sissy’s favorites) was down in the warming oven, along with Papa’s strawberry-rhubarb pie. Lyssa and Sissy were in the serving group, so they had to wait to eat. Sissy was so hungry she could hardly stand to wait, but once they started carrying the dishes around, she didn’t have time to think about it.

The Knudson’s stayed to dinner and Reverend Gordon welcomed them and introduced them. Nels stood up and smiled his wonderful smile and bowed to everyone. Elke looked terribly shy, Sven looked embarrassed, and Garryd just grinned his winning freckle-faced smile. In spite of the fact that Nels and Elke were grown-ups and parents, and Sissy was just a kid, she felt protective of the Knudsons. She wasn’t sure what they needed to be protected from, but she didn’t want them to be hurt. She claimed their table and brought them plates with lots of the best stuff. Then she brought her own food and sat next to Garryd. Lyssa joined them.

She and Lyssa had to eat fast, because everyone else was almost ready for dessert. Paul nabbed three pieces of pie off her tray and she nearly dropped it trying to kick him. “They’re for my parents,” he said, grinning. He sat on the heaters by the window and ale all three. Then he nabbed two more off Lyssa’s tray.

Sissy saved Lyssa, Garryd and herself a piece of Papa’s strawberry rhubarb pie. Garryd asked her to get them pieces of his Mom’s lemon meringue pie, so she did. Then Lyssa insisted that they try her Dad’s chocolate mousse. It was wonderful, absolutely heavenly, but Sissy felt a little ill after all those desserts. She was glad she wasn’t on the clean-up crew and they got to leave early. On the way out, she snickered watching Paul LeFevre mopping up with a mop three times as big as he was.

After Church, Sissy flung her dress on the bed and got into her favorite cut-offs and her whale T-shirt. “Hang up your dress,” her mom called, as she passed Sissy’s room on the way to her own. Sissy had been all set to leave. She groaned and flopped the dumb old dress onto a hanger and into the back of the closet. She hadn’t zipped it up and it fell off. She started to shut the closet door, but decided she’d better re-hang it in case her mother checked. She might think she’d thrown it on the floor on purpose.

“I’m going out to play,” Sissy called, shutting the screen door carefully behind her.

“Be home in time for supper.”

Sissy went back in and got her Super Girl watch off her vanity and put it on. She checked the time against the clock in the kitchen. It was right.

Sissy pounded on Knudson’s door. She wondered how Nels and Elke would know if she were knock if Garryd and Sven weren’t home. But they were. Sven came to the door and called Garryd. He had his play clothes on and was ready to go. He started out the door with Sissy, but his parents were both signing wildly. Because his back was turned and he couldn’t see them, Sissy told him. Signing definitely had its disadvantages, Sissy realized.

Sissy watched Garryd and his parents signing back and forth. He could tell by the expression on his mother’s face that she was upset about something.

“What are they saying?” she asked Sven.

“They are telling him not to be late again. Mom was so worried about him. She was afraid he’s be lost, since he doesn’t know his way around yet.”

“I’m sorry. It was partly my fault,” Sissy said. But not entirely, she thought to herself, since Garryd was the one who had insisted on going back to the Haunted Ponds at Frog Haven. She was glad they had, though, glad they saw the heron and the beaver.

Sissy walked up to Nels and held up her arm, pointing to her watch. She picked up a pen and a piece of paper and wrote, “What time do you want him home? I have to be home at 5:30.”

Nels nodded and grinned. He nodded again and wrote, “Good.” Elke looked puzzled. Garryd signed to her.

“What are you saying to her?” Sissy asked, realizing the grown-ups couldn’t here her being nosy and rude.

“I’m just telling her that you have a watch and we’ll be home at 5:30. She says ‘be careful’ and I say I will. And, ‘don’t worry, Mom.’ I say ‘I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful.’ She says ‘okay, good.’ We’re saying goodbye now.” Garryd waved to his Dad and Sissy and he left through the garage.

“Let’s do a frog rescue run,” Garryd said.

“Okay,” Sissy agreed. They got their pails out from under the bushel baskets, yanked them apart and headed for Blackfords’ Pond.

“Can you teach me sign language?” Sissy asked as they walked along through the far backyards, jumping over flower gardens and skirting hedges.

“Sure, when do you want your first lesson?”

“When we get to the Haunted Ponds at Frog Haven, after we let the frogs go.”

“Okay, deal.”

“Deal!” They shook on it.

Frog hunting at Blackfords’ pond was relatively uneventful. The gang was not around. Sissy told Garryd he thought maybe they were playing baseball behind McNallys’.

“Maybe they’ll let us play sometime.”

“Of course they’ll let us play. I’m a good hitter, a good thrower (usually), and a pretty good fielder. I can catch a high fly or a lob, but sometimes I get scared if someone hits a line drive right at me. I run okay, and can sometimes steal a good base. How about you?”

“Yeah. I’m pretty good.”

Sissy climbed up to check the baby cardinals. There was only one in the nest and it had all it’s feathers. She looked around and spotted a baby on a branch near the nest and another farther down. As she and Garryd were watching, one took off and flew to another branch. It flew in a soft fluttering flight, not like the sure flight of the adults.

“I hope the gang plays baseball all afternoon. I don’t want them to find these babies.”

Sissy walked down one side of the pond and Garryd walked down the other. When they arrived at the fence, their pails were full of frogs, and there were lots more that had gotten away into the depths of the pond. Sissy was beginning to think that Blackfords’ Pond had an endless supply of frogs. Or perhaps they were coming back again at night. But it was too far. How would the frogs find their way back, anyway?

There certainly were thousands of tadpoles. But could there be thousands of frogs. Still, it didn’t matter how many frogs there were, killing for pleasure was still wrong.

They let the frogs go at the same frog-launching site. The beaver was nowhere to be seen, and neither was the heron. Sissy was disappointed. They walked along the shore of the pond toward the lower swampy section that was farthest from the road. Just before they reached the really swampy part, there was a sunny knoll.

“That’s a good spot for my sign-language lesson,” Sissy said, pointing. They went over and sat down on a wide dry log that was angled in such a way that they were looking down the whole length of the pond. Nothing seemed to be moving except an occasional dimple as a tadpole rose to the surface and settled back down.

“We’ll start with the alphabet,” Garryd said. “This is an ‘A’.” Sissy tried to imitate his signs and Garryd corrected her. They went through the alphabet three times with Sissy copying Garryd. The third time through, he told her some of the other meanings of the letters.

“This,” he said, crossing his first two fingers to make the sign for ‘r” and shaking them rapidly back and forth, means you have to use the restroom. Or, you could do it with a T,” he demonstrated, “which means you have to use the toilet or a ‘B’, which means you, have to use the bathroom. Sissy laughed and practiced each of them.

“This is fun,” Sissy said, “but I don’t know if I’ll be able to remember them.”

“I’ll help you,” Garryd assured her. “You’ll do fine.”

“Look, what’s that?” Sissy whispered, pointing down the length of the pond and across to the steep opposite bank. A dark animal slid down a long muddy path on the bank[MNS1] .

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[MNS1]Pictures of Sissy and Garryd having the sign language lesson would be good here—or Sissy could keep a journal and make a drawing herself. Include sign language symbols for the alphabet and a few others—but not too many.

Chapter 9; P365-07W

Drafts: Frog Haven, Chapter 7

"Today" at 2 AM my mom died and I haven't done any more work on the novel. There are still a lot of notifications and arrangements to do, but I'm trying to take a little time for the novel. (I'm back posting this)

(chapter 6)(Chapter 1)

Chapter 7: Frog Haven

“What about the frogs?” Sissy finally asked, surprised when she thought of it that she’d gotten so distracted from their original mission. “Did you find a safe place to let them go?”

“I sure did! I found a great pond. It was big and beautiful. It was just a little bit beyond the dump. There were lots of trees at this end and it was swampy and more open at the other end. I saw ‘coon tracks, though.”

“Well, there are ‘coons at Blackfords’ Pond, and heron’s and stuff, too. Frogs have lots of enemies. But raccoons kill them for food, and that’s a lot different than killing out of meanness. Just for fun, if you call that fun. Fairer, too.”

“You really ought to see the ponds. There’s another one on the other side of the road. It looked like it was even bigger. It kind of went around a corner and I couldn’t see it all. I wanted to explore it, but I didn’t want to keep you waiting. Then, on the way back, I saw the fox when I stopped to check out the bottles. Really, Sissy, we should go back and explore.”

“Well, maybe, Garryd. I don’t like to do stuff I’m not supposed to do. Let me think about it a little, okay?”

“Sure, but if you don’t want to go, I’m going to go by myself.”

“Don’t take any of the gang with you, though, if I don’t go. Or tell them about it.”

“Don’t worry! The frogs are safe. I always keep my promises, and besides, I don’t want them killed any more than you do, Sissy!”

When they got to the dirt cliff, Garryd took the pail up and then came back down to help Sissy get the fox up. When they dragged it as far as the orchard, Sissy said, “Let’s bury it here.” She ran up and got a shovel from the garage and they took turns digging. The soil was soft sand so it didn’t take too long to dig a shallow grave for the fox and bury it. Sissy marked the head of the fox with a cairn of rocks so they could dig it up again later.

“Let’s go back to Frog Haven and the Haunted Forest right now, Sissy!” Garryd said.

“What do you mean, the Haunted Forest?” Sissy asked, a small shiver running down her spine.

“I was just joking. Because of the dead fox. It’s haunted with the fox-ghost, and besides, if we call it that, and the kids were scared to go there before, now they’ll really be scared. That is, they would be if we told them, but we won’t tell them,” he quickly amended, seeing the look on Sissy’s face.

“And what do you mean, Frog Haven?” Sissy wondered aloud.

“Well, when we lived in Florida, there was a place called Pelican Haven, where the pelicans were safe from being bothered. If they can have a Pelican Haven, why not a Frog Haven?”

“Good idea, it’s official, then.” Sissy smiled and reached out to shake Garryd’s hand.

“Come on! Let’s go back,” Garryd repeated.

“What time is it?” Sissy looked at her wrist, but her Super Girl watch wasn’t there. “Well, okay, I guess we can go now. But we’d better not stay long. I think it might be getting late, and I’ll get in trouble if I’m late to dinner.” They started back down the path through the yard, with Sissy dragging a little. She didn’t have the same enthusiasm she had when they were starting out to free the frogs. She was nervous, lacked the same sense of purpose, and was feeling a little tired, too.

“Why don’t we go by way of Blackfords’ pond and take another load of frogs?” she suggested.

“Good idea!” They veered left and headed toward Moores’.

“Watch for the boys. Maybe we can cop another pail so we can both take one.”

As they approached Blackfords’ pond, they heard the boy’s voices, laughing, and shouts of victory. They peered through the cattails and found the gang spearing frogs. They were using what looked like ski poles without baskets. Paul LeFevre shouted from across the pond, and Sissy looked toward him. He had three frogs speared on his pole and the one on the bottom was still kicking and thrashing.

Sissy turned quickly away, feeling sick, grossed out, and angry. Garryd just stood there staring. He looked as if he were about to charge into the middle of the gang, fists flailing. Sissy didn’t think that would help.

“Come on,” she hissed, dragging him away by the arm. She took him to the fort. They left the bucket with the crack and took two good buckets. And two lids. They headed down the pond side toward Dzabel’s, catching as many frogs as they could. They also caught some fat bullfrog tadpoles. By the time they got to the fence, the bottoms of their pails were covered solidly with frogs and tadpoles.

Garryd was right, of course. The first pond was just beyond the dump. The shape of the hill and the hemlocks growing there had hidden it from view. Near the road, the bank dropped sharply down to and into the water and there was no spot to stand near the shore. Sissy could see that farther down, the ground was flatter. She headed that way with her pail. She heard a giant splash and looked up in time to see a beaver slapping his tail on the water. A moment later, he resurfaced and looked at them again. Seeing that they were still there, he slapped his tail again. He did this three more times, and then climbed up onto a small island and began chewing the base of a young yellow birch.

Sissy fingered a little white medallion that she wore at the base of her throat, saying, “Thank you, St. Francis,” in a quiet whisper.

“St. Francis?”

“Yes, you know, he talks to the animals. If I could have one wish, I would wish to be able to talk to the animals.” Garryd was looking at the medallion, which she still held in her free hand. “Oh, my grandmother gave me this. She’s Roman Catholic. She gave it to me because she knows how much I love animals. See, it’s St. Francis talking to the birds.”

“Wow, that’s really cool,” breathed Garryd, “do you think she’d give me one, if I were her grandson?”

“Oh, I’m sure she would. She’s a great Grandma! I mean a wonderful grandmother. She won’t be a great grandma until one of us has kids.”

“They walked slowly down the shore. The beaver didn’t move. He stared at them and then casually went on chewing the yellow birch. They slowly and carefully laid their pails on their sides at the edge of the pond and watched the frogs leap out of the pail and the tadpoles swim out of sight to the bottom of the pond. Most of the frogs followed suit. Some resurfaced and stuck their heads out, dangling their legs down into the water. Tadpoles began emerging from under leaves and submerged branches. The children sat on the damp ground and watched the beaver, the frogs and tadpoles in silence. Thrushes sang in the woods, and a veery called.

After a few minutes, Garryd reached out and touched Sissy’s arm. A heron had landed behind her, only a few feet away. The frogs dove into the pond again. Sissy sat absolutely still. The heron took three steps in their direction. Suddenly, the long neck shot out. The beak plunged into the water like a spear and came up with a fish. Sissy was glad it was a fish and not one of the frogs they had just brought. She knew some of them would be eaten. Some would have been eaten at their old home, too. But after she rescued them, she didn’t want to see it happen immediately.

Garryd and Sissy watched as the heron swallowed the fish. Sissy was straining her eyes to see, and then she realized it was almost dark. She had missed supper and her parents would be worried and angry. She jumped up, sending the heron squawking off and the beaver splashing into the dark water.

“Garryd, it’s dark! We’ve got to hurry back!” They started off through the woods running, but it was too dark to run. Instead, they had to walk slowly, because it was darker in the woods than it had been by the pond where it was more open. If they hurried too much, they smashed into bushes and prickers. Sissy had bare feet and couldn’t see to pick a safe trail. Luckily, her feet were already getting tough, as they did every year in the spring.

Once they got out into the pastures, they began to run again. It was easy, running in the sort cropped grass, but once, Sissy stepped in a cow flop in her bare feet. Garryd laughed, but a moment later, he stepped in one, slipped, and sat down in it. Then it was Sissy’s turn to laugh.

Sissy stacked the pails and stashed them under a pile of bushel baskets behind the garage and dashed into the house.

“Sissy, where have you been? We’ve been looking all over for you! Garryd’s parents are frantic, especially his mother! What a way to welcome our new neighbors! Where have you been?” Mom was steamed. Sissy could tell she’d been worried about her.

“Down at the pond,” Sissy said, waving in the general direction of Frog Haven and The Haunted Forest, which was also, luckily, the direction of Dzabel’s Ponds. “We were watching a heron. It caught a fish. It was only a few feet away and I could see it swallow. We were trying not to move and scare it. We were so excited we forgot about the time. I’m really sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to be late, really.”

Sissy could tell that her mom was calmed by the news about the heron. Mom loved herons and all of nature and loved having Sissy enjoy it too.

“Well, be more careful next time. You’re not supposed to go out of range of the whistle—listen for it. See that this doesn’t happen again. Maybe you should wear your watch.”

Papa came in and started in on her again. Mom stopped him and told him about the heron. “Don’t let it happen again,” he said, firmly but not angrily. “We were really worried. You’re lucky it’s a Saturday night and not a school night. If it happens again, we’ll have to punish you.”

“Okay, Papa, I’ll try to be more careful,” Sissy promised. He got her supper out of the oven where it had been staying warm. Sissy realized she was famished. It was just macaroni and cheese, and it was dry and crunchy, but it tasted heavenly to Sissy.

Sissy worried as she ate that somehow, her parents would find out where she had been. Should she just tell them and get it over with? But she was afraid, so she ate her supper quietly and headed for her room.

“Not so fast, young lady. First, take a quick but thorough shower. You are filthy.”

When Sissy got in bed, her pillow was missing. She knew she had done something with it, but was too tired to remember what.

Chapter 8; P365-07W

Drafts: Frog Haven, Chapter 6

In a few hours, my mother is going to die. I don't know that yet. Not on "this day," January 15th. She's been declining, but there is no imminent sign of danger. She will die, however, unexpectedly of late stage dementia and myocardial infarction at 2 AM on the 16th. (Obviously, I am backposting this.)

I've been so involved in notifying people and institutions and making arrangments etc, plus some health issues of my own, that the novel got put on the back burner. I still have more to do concerning my mother's death, some of it urgent. But I wanted a peek at the novel. Being away from it for so long has made me lose my place. A novel is big and unwieldy, and at least for me, I have to stay immersed in it. I have yet to find my place, but here, anyway, is the next chapter, chapter 6 (and the links to earlier chapters if you haven't yet read them):

read chapter 1 if you haven't already

read chapters 2 & 3 if you haven't already

read chapter 4 if you haven't already

Chapter 5: Getting Acquainted

Chapter 6, The Fox and the Skunk

“You shouldn’t agree to things until you know what they are,” Sissy said. She pushed her bedroom door shut, reached under her vanity and under the table in the corner between the vanity and the end of her bed, and pulled out the pail that was hidden there. She lifted the pillow from the bucket and she and Garryd both leaned over to look, bumping their heads together.

“Frogs!” Garryd observed, rubbing his head. “What are you going to do with them?”

“Let them go in a safe spot.”

“Then why did you catch them?”

“They weren’t safe where they were.”

“Why not?”

“The boys. They have a gang and they kill frogs.”

“That’s stupid, and mean! We’ll have to stop them!”

“How?”

“I don’t know. We’ll think of something. In the meantime, we will rescue as many frogs as we can and let them go in a safe place.”

“Yes, that’s exactly it!” cried Sissy, jumping up and down and throwing her arms around Garryd and kissing him. “Oh, Garryd, I love you!”

Garryd unwrapped Sissy’s arms and stood there looking embarrassed, for once at a loss for words.

“I wish you were my brother, instead of those rats,” Sissy exclaimed.

Garryd looked visibly relieved. “I guess you’d be an okay sister. I never really wanted a sister. Usually I don’t like girls that much. All they ever want to do is play with dolls. Ugh!”

Sissy waved her arms around the room. “I don’t have any dolls. Not one single one. Come on, let’s go release these frogs. First we have to make sure the coast is clear. Put the hamster away.” Garryd did.

Sissy stuck the pillow back over the frogs. They went out the back door and looked around. There was no sign of the gang anywhere.

“You stay here and watch for the gang, and I’ll go in and get the frogs. If you see them . . .”

“I’ll whistle like this,” Garryd said, giving an ear-piercing whistle.

“Okay, and I’ll hide the frogs again if I hear it.”

Sissy ran in and grabbed the pail, tossing the pillow onto her bed. The pillow flipped over and there was a big circular spot of mud and slime on it. Sissy grabbed it and stuffed it under the bed. She dashed out through the house. Both her parents were bent over the keyboards of their computers. Sissy shut the back door slowly and quietly, not wanting to be slowed down by being yelled at for slamming.

She led Garryd down the path past the fruit trees and the vegetable garden and her Papa’s arboretum. When they got to the fence, Garryd took the pail without a word while Sissy climbed through. Then he handed her the bucket and climbed over. They slid down the dirt cliff on their butts and headed for Dzabel’s ponds. As they walked across the short-cropped grass to the ponds, Sissy [MNS1] told Garryd about finding the starling that had heat stroke. By the shore of the small pond, two starlings were feeding a bunch of noisy babies. The male, shining and black, looked like the bird Sissy had rescued. She hoped he was, because he looked healthy and happy.

“It didn’t take us very long to get here,” Garryd observed. “What’s going to stop the gang from coming down here and killing frogs.”

“Nothing, I guess. It’s closer than Blackfords’ pond. Kids don’t come here quite as much because Dzabel yells when he sees us here. But they could. But I didn’t know what else to do with them. There’s a pond beyond the Bushwhack, Coon Pond, but that’s not much farther away and it’s such a small pond. Unless . . .”

“Unless what?”

“Well, a couple weeks ago, we were doing a unit in school on maps, and Papa got out a topographical map of this part of Burnt Hills. It showed Blackfords’ Pond (I mean Moores’ Pond) and the swamp around it, but it did not show Coon Pond because the dam hadn’t been built or Dzabel’s Ponds because they hadn’t been dig yet when the map was made. It did show two ponds I’ve never been to, in the woods over there,” she said, pointing across the pastures and scrubland.

“Well, let’s go them,” Garry said, picking up the pail and starting for the woods.

“Wait a second,” Sissy called running to catch up. Garryd kept on walking. “I’m not allowed to go there. None of the kids in the neighborhood are.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I just know it is strictly forbidden. Not even Paul LeFevre goes there,” she added, as if that would clinch it.

Garryd kept walking. Sissy felt really nervous. She did not like to directly disobey her parents. What if there was some really good reason not to go there? Sissy pictured bad men with guns who would kidnap them or kill them or something. Maybe torture them.

“Do you want these frogs to be safe, or not?”

“Yes, but . . .”

“Look, we’ll go to the edge of the woods together. How far is it to the ponds from the edge of the woods?”

“Not far, according to the map.”

“Okay, no one has forbidden me from going there. I’ll find one of the ponds, the first one I come to, and let the frogs go. It will only take a few minutes and then we can go back together.”

“Okay.” Sissy was satisfied with that plan. At least she would not be disobeying. “But we will have to watch out for the farmer. Dzabel. He doesn’t like kids on his land. He’s afraid we’ll bother the cows or drown and cause him to get sued or something.”

They covered the distance to the edge of the woods faster than Sissy expected. It didn’t really seem that far, though she had always thought of it as a really long ways, and had never considered going there. As they approached the woods, they noticed a dark area that turned out to be an opening, so they headed for that. As they got closer, they saw it was an old road, an old gravel road grown up with weeds. Small trees were starting to invade the edges, but it was still quite walkable. Sissy walked along with Garryd until tall trees came up on either side. She stopped, backed up a little, and waited. Garryd went on. The road turned into the trees, and Garryd was lost from sight.

Sissy felt very alone. Not frightened exactly, just alone. The sun was shining and the woods smelled sweet and fresh. A tiny breeze played around her face. She sat on a mossy spot on the roadside and waited. An ant crawled over her bare foot. She watched it, but couldn’t feel it. Then she felt it, and it tickled so much she picked a blade of grass and encouraged the ant to climb onto it. She held the grass up and watched as the ant crawled toward her hand. Then she took the other end in her other hand. When the ant got to the far end, it started back toward her other hand upside down on the bottom of the blade. Sissy set the ant down near a squashed wild strawberry. Maybe it would like to eat it. There were lots of wild strawberries. Sissy started picking and eating them.

Garryd came running down the road, swinging the empty pail. “Sissy, Sissy, come here!”

“I can’t.”

“You’ve got to! I want to show you something. It’s a wolf or a coyote or something.”

“Is it alive?” Sissy asked, jumping up and backing away from the woods.

“No, it’s dead, but it’s really cool.”

“How far away is it?”

“Just around the corner.”

“Well, okay,” Sissy half-heartedly agreed. She walked beside Garryd. The sun was warm and she could hear insects buzzing around them, and birds calling: a crow, a veery, and others, too, farther away. A wood thrush deep in the woods. Everything seemed peaceful. There was no feeling of danger in the air. The trees arched up over the road and became a forest, a nonscary, park-like forest.

They walked a short ways into the woods along the road and Garryd shouted, “There it is!” At first, Sissy saw nothing but fallen leaves and branches. Then the shape of the dead animal formed itself before her eyes. It’s body was exactly the color of the fallen, faded leaves, but its face, ear-tips, and feet were black, a shining black that was not the dull black of coal or the iridescent black of her rescued starling. At first, she thought it was a dead dog, and not a very big dog, at that. Certainly not a wolf or coyote.

“Oh, Garryd, it’s a fox! It’s beautiful!” Not many people would have called the dead fox beautiful. It had decayed to the point where all that was left was the somewhat rotted fur and the bones. The stiff, dried out, tattered fur was beyond saving, but the bones . . .

“Let’s take it home. We could bury it in the sand and dig it up later. Maybe we can reconstruct the skeleton. That would be great fun.”

“Yes, it would, but how would we get it home?”

“Hmm . . . maybe with a burlap bag. Papa uses them at the arboretum.”

“A burlap bag? I saw some in the woods near here. A whole pile of them! Come on.” They went down the road a little farther and came to a stop sign. It was a regular six-sided stop sign, but it was rusty yellow instead of red and had diamond-like things embedded in the letters and around the edges. Sissy took new interest in the road, looking up and down it.

“Never saw a stop sign like that. Why do you think it’s here?” Sissy asked.

“I’ve seen stop signs like that. Way out in the country on old dirt roads, near my Grandmother’s house. It’s the old kind they used to have a long time ago.” Garryd said. Then Sissy thought, yes, she too had seen some like that, when they were camping, and maybe near uncle John’s. She touched the diamond-like shiny glass pieces and rubbed the dust off some of them. Then looked back at the road.

There was no intersection, but as Sissy looked around, she spotted an old split rail fence in the woods that was mostly tumbled down, and barbed wire. There was an old gate, open, and lying half buried in the woods. Behind the gate was a tree with a board sign that had a paper sign hanging off it. Sissy walked up, and standing on tiptoes, lifted the paper sign and read it. It said, “NO TRESPASSING” in large black letters. It was signed Judson A. Williams.

“This stop sign is here because Judson A. Williams, whoever he is, doesn’t want people in his woods. Like Dzabel doesn’t want us in his pastures,” Sissy murmured nervously.

“I didn’t even see that posted sign,” Garryd said.

“Well, you couldn’t read it upside down and it was pretty hidden in these branches,” Sissy said.

“But it doesn’t matter. The burlap bags are thrown away. Look, they are right over here.” Sissy followed Garryd a few steps off the road where they found an old dump. There were cans and bottles and old lamps and galvanized buckets and washtubs and broken crockery. There were also old dolls, broken metal trucks, a rotted red rubber ball and other toys. “I came over to look at this stuff because my old neighbor, Mrs. Larson, collects old bottles and crocks. I found some good ones, too,” he said, pointing to a small stash he had made in the gnarled roots of an old beech tree. “And there are the burlap bags. I was going to take one to wrap the bottles and stuff in for Mrs. Larson.”

There was no doubt they’d been discarded, so Sissy figured it wouldn’t be stealing if they took a couple. But the bags were pretty rotten. They were almost as rotten as the fox. In the middle of the pile, she found a few that were fairly strong, and headed determinedly back toward the fox.

Garryd wrapped his bottles in some of the burlap and put them in the pail. He ran after Sissy, who had stopped in the middle of the road. A skunk was headed toward her. It looked friendly. Sissy stood holding the burlap and looking at the skunk. The skunk sat down in the middle of the road, facing Sissy.

“At the science museum in Syracuse, they have a take skunk named Willie, only it’s a girl. I’ve held it and fed it mealworms; it’s really nice. It doesn’t bite or anything,” Garryd said.

“But I don’t think this is a tame skunk. It could have rabies. Let’s try going around it. Nice skunky, nice skunky,” Sissy crooned. The skunk titled its head and looked at Sissy.

“Nice skunky,” Garryd said, too, imitating Sissy’s tone of voice. The skunk tilted its head the other way and looked at Garryd. “I think it’s friendly,” Garryd said, as they skirted around the skunk through the woods. The skunk watched them as they walked, standing to turn when it couldn’t move its head any further. Then it sat back down in the middle of the road facing them.

Garryd helped Sissy get the dead fox onto the burlap. They started home, taking turns dragging the fox, and carrying the pail. At first, the fox seemed very light, but it seemed to get heavier and heavier. Sometimes, they both dragged it, and took turns with the pail. The trip back seemed a lot farther and a lot longer.

---

[MNS1]The prior part of this story has been removed, so this reference either has to be expanded or deleted!!!!

Drafts: Frog Haven, Chapter 5

read chapter 1 if you haven't already

read chapters 2 & 3 if you haven't already

read chapter 4 if you haven't already

Chapter 5: Getting Acquainted

Garryd had Francie Coover’s old room, which was still painted pink. Francie had left her old curtains, too, with the fluffy blue poodles. The room looked a lot different, though, without Francie’s white canopy bed and matching vanity, desk and dresser. It was full of boxes and the bed was in pieces on the floor. Also on the floor was a cage of mice, a fishbowl, and another cage on the mattress with a parakeet in it. He took the parakeet from the cage and held it cradled gently in his hand.

“Will it sit on my finger?” Sissy asked. She held out her finger and the bird stepped on. She held it up to her face. “Pretty bird, pretty bird, pretty bird,” Sissy crooned in a birdy voice.

“Tweety doesn’t talk,” Garryd said.

“Your parakeet is named Tweety? We have a parakeet named Petey that looks just like it,” Sissy said.

“That’s funny,” Michael said, laughing.

“Hill-arious,” said Marc in a dry sarcastic voice. Michael instantly stopped laughing.

A sudden crashing in the living room startled the bird and it flew from Sissy’s finger wildly around the room. Michael pushed the door shut and they all took chase.

“You should throw a pillowcase over it,” instructed Sissy in her teacher voice.

“Or a pillow . . .” Garryd said.

“Or an encyclopedia,” Marc said, picking up a heavy book.

“Marc, shut up. A pillow might squish it,” Sissy screeched, as she made a dive for the bird and missed. She made another grab for the bird and caught it, holding it carefully in the cage of her fingers. Garryd held the cage up with the door open. Sissy put the bird carefully inside. She couldn’t figure out how to close it. It was different from the door to Petey’s cage. Garryd showed her how to work it.

“I have a cat, too. It’s locked in the bathroom right now so she doesn’t sneak out while we’re unloading. Want to see her?”

“Yes, I love animals. Oh a calico, she’s so pretty. We have a Siamese.”

“You do, that’s great. I love animals!”

“Me, too,” Sissy cried, happily. Marc and Michael exchanged disgusted looks. Sissy paid them no mind. She sat down on the toilet lid and began petting the cat. Michael didn’t hate animals. He just wanted to please Marc. If Marc hadn’t been there, she thought he’d have been the first one trying to pet the cat. It had long brownish black fur with a little orange and white mixed in. It seemed very nervous and squirmed to get away. Michael edged closer and reached out his hand.

“She doesn’t like strangers,” Garryd said. Sissy felt bad, because animals usually liked her. But when Garryd picked her up, she scratched his arm trying to get away and hid behind the toilet.

“She’s probably scared about moving and being in a new house and everything. Taffy was really weird when she first moved in with us,” Sissy said.

“She’s still really weird,” Marc commented. Michael snickered. Marc gave him a withering look and he stopped.

“Taffy?”

“That’s our cat. My cat. Our art teacher, Mrs. Dietrich, gave her to us, to me. She lives up on Goode Street. The cat’s real name is Aphrodite, but we call her Taffy for short.”

“I can see why.”

“I named her that,” Sissy said, slightly miffed, “Because she was so beautifully loving. Aphrodite was the Greek god of love.”

“Miss Smarty-pants here thinks she knows everything. She always names her animals stupid things. She has a mouse named Henrich Hamster the third.”

“Well, in that case, well . . .” Garryd floundered, sounding embarrassed.

“Want to see her? You can come over and see all my animals. Or maybe you should be helping unpack.”

“Nah, we can do that later, it’s okay!”

“But you didn’t even ask.”

“I know it’s okay.”

“Ask anyway,” Sissy insisted, not wanting to cause trouble on Garryd’s first day in the neighborhood. So Garryd used signs to explain to his parents where he was going. His Mom felt his hands while his Dad looked on and smiled. Sissy hoped Garry was saying the right things, but had no way of knowing.

When they got outside, Marc said that he and Michael had to meet someone. He looked a little guilty, but slipped off without another word, with Michael at his heels. Sissy looked closely at Garryd to see if he minded being left with a girl, but he seemed cheerful and happy and didn’t seem to notice her concern. She breathed a sigh of relief.

“What’s wrong?” Garryd asked, picking up on her sigh.

“Nothing! Nothing at all. I am so glad you’re moving in next-door and that you like animals. Come on, let’s go see mine now.”

They ran into her back yard and up onto the terrace, to a doll carriage covered with cheesecloth.

“Dolls?” he asked, sounding slightly disappointed.

“No, snakes!” she answered. She lifted the cheesecloth and Garryd leaned over and looked. The carriage was full of garter snakes. Garry reached in and picked one up.

“I love snakes,” he said, as the snaked crawled over his hands, slithering from one to the other. Sissy could see the Garryd knew how to hold and handle garter snakes. He was supporting the snake’s body rather than just letting it dangle. He held his face down in front of the snake; she flicked her tongue over Garryd’s nose.

“She’s smelling you, you know.”

“I know.”

“I love snakes, too, as you can see. Come on, let’s go in.”

“Hello, Mrs. Mancini,” Garryd said politely, stretching out his hand, “nice to meet you. I’m Garryd Knudson, I’m moving in next door.”

“Wow, such nice manners Garryd, would you like a brownie? Sissy, do you want another? How old are you, Garryd?”

“I’m ten and a half, I’ll be eleven on September 26.” Sissy was surprised.

“Really? That’s Sissy’s father’s birthday. Are you in fourth or fifth grade?

“I’m in fourth,” Garry said, looking down at his tattered sneakers. “I should have been in fifth, but I got held back in kindergarten.”

“Oh, Garryd, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. Here in Burnt Hills, the cut-off date is September first, so you would have been in the fourth grade anyway.”

“If you are almost eleven, how come you’re so small?”

“Sissy!” her mom said in a shocked voice. “Don’t be so rude!”

“That’s okay, Mrs. Mancini. I don’t mind. I was the smallest kid in the whole fourth grade, even though I was the oldest. I don’t know why I’m so little,” he continued, turning toward Sissy. “My mom is sort of short, maybe that’s why. Dad’s not that tall, either.”

She’s not that short, thought Sissy. Garryd’s smaller than Paul and Paul is a year younger and the smallest kid in 4^th grade at BHBL.

Garryd was just about Sissy’s age. He was closer to her age than anyone in the neighborhood except Lannie McKeever, and she didn’t count. In all the time both lived on Van Vleck Drive, Sissy could only think of maybe once or twice that she had played with Lannie. They were friends in school, they were nice to each other, but they had nothing in common. Lannie liked dolls and hated snakes. She liked to stay inside and play house. Sissy hated dolls and liked snakes and hated being indoors. Maybe Sissy would finally have a friend her own age. She hoped Garryd would be okay, would be like her.

“Here’s Petey,” Sissy pointed. The bird was sitting on the top of the curtain rod chewing the curtains, which were tattered.

“Hello, hello! How are you? How are you, I’m fine. Happy birthday, Petey! Pretty bird,” the bird chattered. He flew over and landed on Sissy’s shoulder and started gently chewing her ear. Sissy laughed and Garryd laughed too.

“How did you get him to talk?”

“Just say ONE thing over and over until it drives you batty and you can’t stand it another second. Just when you never want to hear it again, the bird will start saying it over and over,” said Sissy’s mom, laughing. She sounded as if she were joking, but Sissy knew it was also sort of true.

“Hold out your finger,” Sissy instructed. The bird stepped right onto Garry’s finger.

“Wow, that’s neat!”

“Now move your finger slowly down.” Garryd looked down and saw a small but somewhat chubby dark Siamese cat.

“Down there?” Sissy nodded. Garryd looked at Sissy’s mom and she nodded too. Slowly, Garryd lowered his finger. The bird flew and landed on the cat’s back. The cat twitched her tail angrily and everyone laughed. Then the bird spiraled up and landed on the curtain again.

Sissy led Garryd to her room. “This is Henrich Hamster the third,” she said, plopping a great fat hamster into Garry’s hands. Garryd stroked the fat thing, who sniffed contentedly around in his hand.

“Where are Henrich Hamsters the first and second?” Garryd asked. Sissy pointed. There were two small golden skins tacked on her bulletin board.

“You skinned them!” Garryd cried in disbelief, cradling the hamster protectively, turning his body slightly away from her.

“They were already dead,” Sissy answered defensively, “and I wanted to learn how to do it. I didn’t kill them, honest. I loved them.”

“How could you do that if you loved them?” looking at her as if she were a monster.

Sissy looked him straight in the eye and said, “Garryd Knudson, I loved them. I loved them when they were alive and was kind to them. I still love them. I never hurt them. How is skinning them worse than burying them in the ground to rot?”

“Well, I guess . . .”

“Here is Henrich Hamster the fourth.”

“But that’s not even a hamster, it’s a white mouse, and a female. And it’s got babies. Like about a hundred. All different colors.”

“There’re thirteen babies. I know it’s not a hamster, but I wanted to name it after my first two hamsters because I really DID love them and I missed them.”

“Okay, okay! All right, already! Can I have one of the baby mice?” Garryd asked.

“Sure, if it’s okay with your parents.”

“It’s okay,” Garryd answered.

“You didn’t even ask,” Sissy protested.

“I know it’s okay.”

“Well, you have to ask first. I don’t want to get in trouble, even if you don’t care.”

“No one will get in trouble,” Garryd said. But Sissy was sure someone was going to get in trouble, probably her. Garryd looked around Sissy’s room, still holding the fat Henrich Hamster the third. He peered into the fish tanks at her guppies and mollies and studied her cactus collection.

“What’s that thumping noise I keep hearing?”

“Do you really like animals?”

“Yes!”

“A whole, whole bunch?”

“Yes!”

“Do you ever kill animals?”

“No”

“Never? Not any kind of animals. Not snakes or frogs or anything? Ever?”

“No. I never kill animals. Where I used to live, if I saw kids hurting snakes or frogs or turtles or anything, I’d make them stop.”

Sissy wondered how little Garryd, all by himself, could make the gang stop killing frogs and tadpoles. She was tempted to ask, but first, “can you keep a secret? Promise? Boy scout’s honor? Cross your heart and hope to die?”

“I’m not a boy scout and I don’t hope to die, but I always keep my promises.”

“Good!” Sissy breathed a big sigh of relief. “You’re supposed to hope to die IF you break your promise, which means you won’t break it so you won’t die. But I know what you mean, ‘cause I don’t want to die either, really die, that is. Anyway, I have a problem and could use your help.

“Okay,” Garryd cheerfully agreed.

P365-07W