The Longest Story Ever Told

Nothing put a bigger smile on Mr. Hubbard's face than when he drove up to his son's house and honked the horn. His five grandchildren knew the sound and would run out the door yelling “storytime.”

Mr. Hubbard loved telling stories to his grandchildren. He stopped over at least once a week. It's what he lived for until he suffered a stroke. Since then, all his time and energy went into rehabbing. Over the following year, he worked hard and regained his ability to walk. He started off with little hikes around the house and then all the way to the mailbox. Eventually, he made his way around the walking path by the pond with the help of a cane. Driving never became an option again, and story time only happened when Grandma drove him over. The sound of the horn gave her a headache, so it was never the same for him. 

The grandchildren could tell this made Grandpa sad. One day when visiting, they surprised him with a gift. He opened it up, and the smile that had been missing reappeared on his face. 

“It's a bike horn. You can attach it to your cane,” one of the grandchildren said.  

“Wow,” he said as he lifted it up. “Let's give it a test run” he squeezed the rubber bulb. HONK. “I love it,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “When I get home, I will attach it, and next time I get a ride, I will honk it out the car window. When we pull up the driveway, I will have a story for you.” 

The next day he did his usual walk on the path. Halfway around the pond, there were a bunch of bikes blocking his way. He couldn't get around them safely, so he waited for the owners to come back. 

A boy yelled down by the pond's edge, “Got one.” He held up a squirming frog, and the group raced back up to their bikes.

“What do you have?” Mr. Hubbard asked. 

“A giant toad. We’re going to make him our pet.” The boy said.

“I think that's a frog,” he said with a smirk. “Shouldn't you be in school?”

“We're in kindergarten, and it's Saturday. 

“Oh, okay, well, I will be on my way as soon as you move your bikes.”

“Sorry, mister.” a girl said as she moved her bike. She began to giggle “Why do you have a horn on your cane?”

 He smiled “I honk it for story time when I see my grandkids.”

“Can you tell us a story?” a boy asked. 

“Huh— ah, I don't have time. I need to finish my walk.”

 “Pleasssssssse, the group let out as a team.”

“Okay,” he said nervously, “give me a second,” he looked around to come up with an idea. He glanced over at the distressed frog and cleared his throat. “There once were —”

“No, you have to honk the horn first,” the girl said. 

“Oh, of course.” HONK. All the kids’ eyes lit up, and the group began to walk. “There once were two frogs that lived in a pond, just like the one squirming in your hand. They were madly in love”

“Ew, what kind of story is this?” a boy spat out.

“Don't worry, it will get better,” he said with a wink. “Where was I, oh ya. So they were madly in love. Just married, they couldn't wait to live the rest of their lives together and have tadpoles. But one day, that all changed when a little boy named Simon snagged the male frog from the pond—”

“What’s his name?” The little girl asked.

Hubbard chuckled as he tried to brainstorm a witty answer, but his ticker was a little out of practice “Froggy!” He blurted out. Ah–how’s Mr. and Mrs. Froggy?”

“Yeah,” they all said with giggles. 

“Simon snagged Mr. Froggy right out of the water, ran up to the walking trail and shoved him into a cage attached to the back of his bike. He jumped on it and began to peddle away. 

Mrs. Froggy witnessed everything and sprang into action. She hopped after the little kidnapper, and before he could get too far, she leaped and unlatched the cage. The door swung open, but Mr. Froggy's foot was stuck between the bars.

He shook loose, but not until after Simon crossed a busy road. He slid out and tumbled to the ground. He searched for Mrs. Froggy across the street and waved to show he was okay. 

“Be careful crossing the road,” she yelled. Cars were flying by, but Mr. Froggy thought if he got a big enough hopping start, he could jump the entire road and the speeding vehicles. He backed up until he could barely see Mrs. Froggy and sprung like he never had before. He imagined this is what it felt like to be a bird as he flew over half the street and the first car, but he didn’t plan on a big moving truck coming from the opposite direction. He slammed against the windshield and flipped up to the top of the roof. He looked back at Mrs. Froggy and yelled, “If it's the last thing I do, I will make my way back to you, my love.”

“That's all for today, kids.” Mr. Hubbard said.

“Noooooooo, we want more,” a boy cried out.

“Sorry, only one day at a time, and that was day one of Mr. Froggy’s adventures. Next Saturday, I will tell you about day two. Just listen for my horn.”

HONK, Mr. Hubbard waited for the children on the walking path. The first one arrived, “Hi Jimmy,” and a second and third, “hello Julie, Amy,” he knew all their names now, even though the storytime group grew to over 20. “Is everyone here?” he asked.

“Yes, Mr. Hubbard,” Jimmy said.

“The group sure has grown” 

“My mom says when she looks out the window, we look like a gang. She’s been calling us the Hubbard gang.”

He laughed and said, “Well, I’m enjoying our storytime walks. Can you all believe it's been 16 Saturdays in a row already? That means we're on day 16 of this not-so-little adventure. I wonder how long we can keep this going?” 

“Forever,” Amy blurted, “I’m going to be as old as you.”

 Hubbard's eyes widened “How old do you think that would make me— never mind. Where did we leave off?" 

“New York!” The Hubbard gang yelled.

“That's right, Froggy’s lost in Central Park and having a slice of pizza with the local rats. After he finished his dinner, he said his farewells and made his way—”

As the years went by, the adventures became more and more outrageous. 

HONK, day 227, Froggy found himself inside an alligator.

HONK, day 384, Froggy hitched a ride with the Hells Angels.

HONK, day 476 Froggy in space.

By the 520th Saturday storytime, the original Hubbard gang was now in High School. The gang expanded through so many of the student bodies that Mr. Hubbard’s Saturday stories became a fixture in the monthly school newsletter.

The gang was halfway through senior year, and there wasn’t a person in town who didn’t know the story of Mr. Froggy’s adventures. Even the local news did a feel-good piece on it.

Graduation day. The whole city was in attendance. Mr. Hubbard made his way to the stage. He tapped the microphone, lifted his old horn up, and gave it a squeeze.

HONK, “Day 676. Can you believe it?” His voice wavered. “Almost two years of adventures with our favorite frog and 13 years for our storytime gang.” He cleared his throat. “Mr. Froggy wasn't doing so well. His extreme adventures had taken a toll on him, but he wouldn't give up until he found his love. At least, that's what his brain said. His body was telling him something else. 

He found himself on top of the same type of moving truck that had taken him away from Mrs. Froggy and the pond he called home so long ago. Cold and tired, he wasn't in pain, just numb and sad. His grip began to weaken as the truck drove down the road. It hit a bump and flung him off into the marshy terrain. He laid there, trying to gain some life back. He heard what he thought was an angel and felt something touch his hand.

“My love, you made it.”

Mr. Froggy turned his head to see Mrs. Froggy “Wow, you still look the same,” he said with a strained voice.

  “I wish I could say the same for you.” She nervously laughed and laid down next to him. For the next few hours, he told her about all the adventures he had trying to get back home.

“That sounds like quite the journey, dear” She rubbed his bald green head as his eyes closed, and he stopped breathing.

The outdoor stadium was silent as Mr. Hubbard took in a breath of his own and looked up from his handwritten notes. He winked at the original Hubbard gang and his grandchildren in the front row. 

“Where was I,” he said with a smirk. “Oh yeah. Mrs. Froggy held Mr. Froggy's hand as tears ran down her warty cheeks. The ground rumbled behind her. She turned to see Simon. He was still terrorizing the pond almost two years later and heading their way.

He spotted them and yelled, “Wohhhh, a dead frog, or should I say football.”  

Mrs. Froggy gave him a final kiss. “Bye again, my love,” she hopped to safety.

“For the game-winning field goal,” Simon shouted as he charged. He planned his heavy steps perfectly as he planted his foot on the soaked ground. He swung his kicking foot with all his forward momentum and smacked the green football right in the chest. 

Mr. Froggy's eyes popped open as he skyrocketed into the air. The kick jump-started his heart. On his way up, he watched Simon slip on the mud and fall backwards. His head smacked the ground and knocked him unconscious. He slid into the cold water and went under with only his head visible. 

Mr. Foggy splashed, landed, and swam over to the drowning boy. He dunked under and snagged his collar. He began to pull with everything his little body had left. He managed to get the boy's head onto the shore and collapsed. Simon started to cough up water. His eyes opened, and looked directly at him. Mr. Froggy wanted to hop away, but he had nothing left and just laid there looking back at the boy.

Simon's mouth opened. His lips moved up and down, but nothing came out. He reached his hand out and placed his finger on his unlikely hero’s webbed hand. With a soft gurgle, he said, “Thank you, Mr. Froggy.”

Mr. Hubbard looked up and said, “And that's the end of the longest story ever told” Half the audience was in tears. Not only for the beautiful ending, but also because they knew this was the end of an area. Mr. Hubbard began this adventure with the children 13 years ago when he was 75 years old. He was now 85. He gingerly walked off the stage as he received a standing ovation. Three days later, Mr. Hubbard passed away.

The original Hubbard gang and damn near every kid that ever heard him tell his story showed up on the walking trail with bike horns. One at a time, they would honk the horn and begin to recite one of the 167 days of the story. A year later, it was published as a children’s book and hit number one in the New York Times.