Kissing Frogs

Warning: Olde Timey fairy tale

Once upon a time in a land full of magic and mischief…

A skinny peasant boy pitched up the grassy bank of a sunlit pond, a large green bullfrog’s legs dangled from his hands like overcooked asparagus spears. “Here m’lady! Here’s the finest one yet.”

Princess Rose rolled her pretty brown eyes. Seth said that every time he caught another one. The frog squirmed, it was slimy, and she nearly dropped it as she took it from the lad. “Ugh.”

Seth looked up expectantly. Rose raised the frog to eye level. It blinked its large shiny gold and black speckled eyes as it looked into hers. She saw intelligence there and felt that familiar spark of hope she got in her chest…every time.

She closed her eyes and kissed the frog on its cool wet lips.

Nothing.

Rose took a ribbon from her pocket and a silver penny. She gave Seth the penny and he ran around the bank of the pond and out of sight. She heard him splashing into the water as she tied the ribbon around the frog’s back foot then let him go hopping off down the grassy slope. ‘Kersplosh.’

Footfalls crunched through the leaves in the woods behind her. She turned quickly, blushing fiercely, as her older sister came to join her, satin skirts held up in both hands. Her mint green slippers matched her dress though the dampness of the grass was darkening them. Rose herself was barefoot.

Princess Violet said, “you kissing frogs again sister?” She was four years older but acted ten. Her high and mighty air was maddening.

Rose would show her someday. She’d show them all. She remained silent as Violet scanned the far shore where at least a dozen frogs sat on lily pads. Each one had a colorful ribbon tied around its foot- yellow, pink, sky blue…another three swam by, each trailing a ribbon in the water like colorful waving tails- red, lilac, pale teal.

Violet said, “Oh my. You have been busy.” The nose that had been pointed haughtily upwards now turned downwards as she looked at Rose’s feet, disgust curling her pouty lips. “Look at yourself. You look like a peasant.”

Rose’s bright auburn hair had come loose from its tortoiseshell combs and gently wafted around her face in the breeze. The hem of her peach-colored dress was grass stained and wet and splotched with mud.

Violet said, “Mummy will be ever so inflamed.”

“Mummy can kiss God’s foot for all I care.”

Violet gasped and placed a hand to lips. “Vulgar too.”

“What do you want?”

“Posey’s recital. She shan’t start without you.”

“Oh. I’d forgotten---”

“And you can not attend looking like …that.”

Rose hated when her snobby sister was right. “Oh bollocks,” she muttered under her breath.

“Come along.” Violet’s nose rose in the air again as she twirled gracefully and headed up the path through the forest. Rose picked up her skirts and followed. If she sat at the back and left the hall early, she might evade punishment. Seth splashed through the shallows with a frog in his small hands. His grin fell as he realized he was alone.

He thought he was alone. But as he dropped the frog into the pond, turned, and headed up the path, a face, shrouded in the folds of a shadowy hooded cloak, peeked from behind a thick pine trunk. Only a pair of lips, sea-conch-pink and sensual, was revealed over a pale chin, they curled into a smile.

Later that evening…

The old woman brought in a tray laden with silver covered dishes that warmly reflected the yellowy candlelight in Princess Rose’s bedchamber. The woman groaned softly as she bent to lay the tray on the vanity. She was stooped and boney and as wrinkled as a week-old pudding skin. She wore a simple dress and kirtle, both of ebony wool. A high collar of storm-cloud grey lace was fastened by a pewter frog at the hollow of her wattled throat. Only her mesmerizing eyes were what made her presence so commanding, they were deep sapphire blue, unusual for these parts where most were brown.

“Thank you, Auntie. You’re so kind towards me.”

“Nonsense child. A little mud and grass are no reason to go hungry.”

Rose put down the heavy tome she’d been reading and sat before her mirror.

“Look at your hair.” The old woman giggled as she plucked a yellow leaf from it.

“Whoops.”

Aunt Germaine picked up an ornate silver hairbrush and stood behind the girl, giving her satiny dark hair long strokes from crown to wavy ends where red highlights gleamed. “Down at the pond again I suppose?”

“Oh Auntie. Is it really true? I mean…really?” She picked up a cheese biscuit and nibbled at it like a mouse.

“Have I ever lied to you, child?”

“No! You’re the only one who’s been true to me. Who doesn’t treat me like a fragile thing on a shelf.”

Germaine nodded slowly.

“I’m so happy you came to live with us. After father’s death I despaired so. All mother cares about is selling us off to the highest bidder. The lady lessons are so boring and mindless. You’ve taught me so much…of value.”

“Well now. Those other lessons that your sisters---”

“Pish posh on embroidery. On afternoon tea. On…on…all that frivolous stuff.” Her dainty hands fluttered like frustrated white doves. “Your books are so much more, well, spellbinding. And the lessons so much more practical.”

“That’s a good way of putting it. Just keep it between us as you promised. You’ll find your prince. He will be spellbound to you when you set him free.”

Early the next morning…

Rose took off her baby blue satin slippers and gasped as the chill of the grass dew bit into her soles like her damn sewing needle pierced a hem. Seth was waiting as promised, his pale face brightened when he saw her. Thanks to her, he was able to help feed and clothe his ailing mother and himself. Though only eight, he believed the princess’s quest was futile. He kept his opinion wisely to his self.

He rolled up his pants to the knees and ‘sploshed’ eagerly into the shallow pond. Ten minutes later, Rose was puckering her lips, closing her eyes, and kissing the fat green frog.

Nothing.

She sighed and let it go, ivory ribbon trailing in its wake. Within minutes Seth was back. He held out an extra warty specimen.

“Really Seth? That’s a toad.”

“Toad? Frog? Same thing practically. Besides, where has kissing all those frogs gotten you?”

Rose sighed and had to agree. “If I get lips warts, I’ll tan your hide.” She sighed again, kissed the toad and…

Nothing.

“You sure this is the right pond?”

“Yesss.” She’d answered this query multiple times. “That’s the lightening tree over there.” Rose pointed to the old oak split down the middle. “That’s the sundial rock.” She pointed to a large flat whitish rock at the eastern edge of the pond. It had a raised cleft shape wedging out from its center. “And that’s the leaning lady.” She pointed to the western most edge where a mossy old log leaned out over the water, uncannily resembling a woman with arms outstretched. The tree had given her nightmares as a child; by the waning light of dusk and deepening shadows, the face on it seemed to be screaming in agony. She shuddered.

“I still think that tree is as scary as your creepy old aunt.”

“Dash it Seth, watch your tongue.” Truth be told, the lad was right, her aunt was a tad bit creepy. But also the only one who treated her with respect and brought her fascinating books and taught her about nature and the powerful forces in it.

After her father had died in battle, his sister had come to help their mother care for the girls. Their mother’s skills in embroidery and tea ceremonies and walking with a book on her head were quite useless when it came to raising children. The family fortune was dwindling, and the servants had all been let go. Mother insisted on the lessons she had endured growing up, lest they grow up fine and proper and whisked into a marriage of the ‘seen and not heard’ variety.

Rose longed for her prince to take her away. He’d be tall and dashing, intelligent- a reader and poet like her. They’d philosophize together and share thoughts about everything from the nature of war to the cultivation of fungi. She’d been promised all this by her Auntie Germaine. All she had to do was find the frog- or toad- that was the prince that had been turned into it by an evil witch...kiss it, and he would be hers.

The young boy said sadly, “We’re running out of frogs.”

“And I’m running out of pennies. And clothes.” Rose had been selling her dresses and fancy footwear at the market in town. There were quite a few peasants now wearing comfy shoes and fine silks and satins. A donkey named Bruute now wore a peacock feathered headpiece.

It seemed every frog and the few toads there were, were wearing bits of ribbon.

All except one. It sat directly across the pond and seemed to be staring at Princess Rose. It looked like all the others but just then, the clouds parted, and a ray of sunlight burst through the tree canopy like the burst of flame from a cannon’s mouth. It struck the frog’s back, and he glowed golden as he basked. Rose sucked in her breath and Seth was dumbfounded, his jaw hanging agape as if catching flies himself.

The sky darkened suddenly, and a roll of thunder distantly bellowed as if the hills beyond the castle had raised their voice in protest. The frog leapt into the pond. ‘Kersploosh’. No ribbon tail a-trailing.

“Oh, cur-sed God’s blood! Seriously!?” Rose clenched her fists and Seth took a step towards the pond. Rose said, “Leave him. We’ll find him tomorrow, he’s the last one left.”

The rain came in a sudden deluge, as if buckets had been tossed down over them from clouds like castle walls. “Tomorrow!” cried Rose as she fled up the path. Seth followed in her wake. Out of the woods, he turned and headed towards town as the princess ran to the castle. She cared not that she’d be again sent to bed without supper, for soiling her garments once more, for her disobedient behavior and wild ways. And supposed foolishness.

The figured that spied them from behind the widest tree was like a specter in the untimely deluge. All was silver, all was grey. The world had turned black and white. Its hood was pulled low over its head and its body was hunched over against the rain, nearly bent in half; the stealthy figure was not much larger than Seth. As it followed the princess’s path, it appeared to disappear, as if melting into the silvery curtains.

“Come in,” said Rose as the knock sounded on her door.

Aunt Germaine came in with the tray. Something about the old woman was …different. Still somewhat creepy…’but spryer? Sunnier?’ She’d never thought of her aunt as sunny. Princess Rose cursed her own poetic mind. ‘Nevermind. I am famished.’ She’d retrieved an appetite this afternoon. Along with the confirmation that her aunt’s legend was true. She knew the boy thought her foolish and only complied with her because of the coinage. But the look she saw in his young face today was one of belief at last.

Though a few years younger than her, Seth had been loyal these past few months and pretty much her closest friend.

“Thank you, Auntie. I’m sorry to be so bothersome.”

“Tsk tsk. Look at these tangles.” The old woman gestured, and Rose sat. “Sent to bed without supper again. My word.” But she was smiling a little as she went to work untangling Rose’s tresses. She picked up the comb this time.

Rose’s knees pistonned up and down under the vanity table. She looked up and into the mirror at her aunt and caught her eye. “I’ve found him.”

Germaine halted for a second, nodded, then continued combing out the tangles. “Go on. Do tell.”

“Ow!….well…there’s only one frog left. Thank goodness I’ve no warts on my lips. Seth will catch him tomorrow. He looked at me! Oh Auntie! It’s him I just know it is!”

Rose turned on her velvet tufted seat and giddily said, “I will kiss my prince tomorrow!” She folded her hands under her chin and sighed like only a teenager in love can do.

Germaine remained silent, turned the girl back around, and continued with the comb. “Well, we must have you pretty and princessey…am I right?”

“Oh yes Auntie, you’re right about everything. Oh, how I love you.”

Rose chomped like a knave on her biscuit and slurped the gravy eagerly from her stew as her aunt brushed out her hair. In the mirror, Germaine’s eyes turned into black holes like coal and when she smiled, her teeth appeared long and pointy.

The next morning…

Rose raced down towards the pond. Seth was at the top of the path with his hands upturned to ward her off, to halt her.

Rose said, “Seth! We have to get that frog! He’s the one! My prince!”

“No Rose. It’s too late---”

“What are you talking about?!” She grabbed his arm and raced down the hill, tugging him along. Her slippered feet skittering on loose pebbles and sliding in the grass. She stopped at the exit of the path at the edge of the clearing surrounding the pond, nearly stumbling as she went, her skirts swirling about her legs as if arms of pale cream silk were holding her back. “Wha---?”

At the pond’s edge, Princess Posey held the golden frog up to her lips.

“Noooo!” screamed Rose as her sister kissed the frog.

Seth took off running, the bag of coins jangling like cutlery at his hip.

The air swirled into whorls of blue and white mist around Princess Posey and the frog. Thickening, sparks like stars flew outward…in the center of the swirling mass, a shape was forming. The shape of a man.

“No.” Rose wept as she watched. Angry and betrayed, she fell to her knees as the prince solidified.

He was tall and handsome. Cleft chin on a strong jaw under prominent cheekbones. He had sapphire blue eyes, filled with intelligent light. He was dressed in velvet and leather. Rose could smell his manly musk from where she had sunk to her knees.

He took Rose’s younger sister into his arms. They looked into each other’s eyes for a few moments, moments when Rose felt her bones turning to sawdust and her heart to stone. Her life was over. All that frog kissing just to end up like her cuckolded sister, Violet.

From behind her, the witch cackled gleefully. Her aunt, resplendent in black robes now adorned with scarlet sashes blowing in the wind at her back, stood straight and tall…unbent.

The witch raised her arms, and the prince came to her and embraced her, kissing her cheeks. He said, “Oh Mother, I knew you could do it. I am finally free.”

Princess Posey started screaming.

Rose stared in disbelief as her younger sister’s hair, the same dark auburn as her own, turned grey. Posey stumbled to the edge of the pond on wooden legs as if pulled by invisible strings. She withered and as she did so, folding over bones under wrinkling skin. Her skin turned to grey bark. Small branches sprouted from her slender, trunk-like body. Green, with leaves sprouting. A minute later, yellowing, the leaves dropping. At the water’s edge, she put out an arm to prevent herself from going under as she toppled. A final scream formed the hollow in the face of the tree. Then she was silent as the girl-shaped tree stilled. Moss continued to feather out along her northern side. The branches creaked as they found their place. Then all was still.

“Th-that was meant to be me!” Rose screamed at the witch and her son.

Aunt Germaine said, “any princess would do. I’d thought it would be you, foolish girl, but no. And now you live.”

Small yellow leaves floated on the surface of the pond around the new fallen tree. The prince took his mother’s hand as they turned and headed away. “Oh mother, how young and beautiful you are.”