A Strange Exchange

My fingers twist the long grass at my feet. I stare ahead, not seeing the campground or the pond. My breathing is shallow, but every inhale feels like a knife stabbing my lungs. I’m no doctor, but I know I’m messed up.

There’s nothing I can do. I mean, how can I get to the hospital? I don’t have my driving permit, and even if I did, I don’t have a car. Any of my friends that drive won’t believe me if I tell them what led to my ribs getting hurt. Hell, even my dad’s family would think I’m lying, or as I’ve heard before, misunderstanding events. Since I’m sixteen, I can’t help but be dramatic.

Apparently.

But I’m not overdramatizing what happened today, and there’s no way I didn’t fully comprehend it. Hard to misinterpret Uncle almost strangling Mom to death and him punching me in the chest when I stopped him. Sitting here, calm when I’d rather go back and make it so Uncle hurts no one again, I’d say I’m underplaying the situation.

Or maybe this is shock. I haven’t cried, so I can’t have processed it all. Granted, I don’t cry much. What’s the point? Crying changed nothing or ever made anyone at home say sorry. In fact, it’s more likely to get me screamed at.

Out here, though, I’m alone. I can cry all I want. No one will demand I shut up unless I want something to cry about. Or call me gay. Or tell me I’m pathetic like Dad.

I should cry. Even if it can’t fix things, I’ll at least release some of this scary pressure inside me. For when it pops, and I don’t doubt it will, what will I do? All I’ve ever seen is how Uncle and Grandpa Flash handle their emotions. When they reach that boiling point, people get stabbed and their windpipes almost crushed.  

I’d hate myself if I did that, but I don’t know if I won’t. I hope I’d do it to someone that deserves it, but I don’t know that either.

My eyes close. Come on, cry.

Minutes pass, but no tears come.

My sigh is nothing more than a whistle through my teeth. Whatever. Crying is useless.

“Josh?”

My eyes snap open, and I jerk, trying to see who spoke to me. A curse leaves me as pain rolls through my chest.

“Don’t make it worse,” the voice says from my left. 

I ignore the pain and search for the voice’s source. No one’s there. I see nothing but grass for ninety yards until it meets the forest that encircles the campground.

Did I imagine the voice? Can shock cause hallucinations?

“Don’t tell me you’re going blind.”

The irritated tone slices through my surprise. How dare they hide and get mad at me when I can’t spot them?

“You’re the one trying to not be seen.”

“I am not.”

“Then where are you?”

“Right in front of you.”

I squint. Still nothing.

Another groan. “If you’re not blind, then you’re stupid.”

“Hey! I—”

A chubby, bumpy, green body no bigger than my palm hops into the air five feet in front of me. “Right here, idiot.”

I scream. No, it’s not a manly bellow, or a startled yelp. It’s a high-pitched, childish scream that echoes throughout the campground. If the nearby neighbors don’t hear it, they’re deaf.

Even worse, I scramble away from the monstrosity like it’ll eat my soul. My ribs protest, but they’re the farthest thing from my mind. All my thoughts are on the vile creature that—

That can talk?

No. No, they can’t. It’s horrible enough they croak, but that’s all they can do. I’m just so stressed I’m imagining the impossible. Maybe it’s time I go.

“Was that necessary?”

The little demon has returned to the grass, but now I notice how its dark, molted green hue differs from the vibrant green of its surroundings. It’s all I can see.

And it spoke. Its disgusting thin mouth opened and closed as those words hit my ears. Worst of all, it sounded like one of my classmates. In a room of teenagers, its voice would blend in.

“You’re my nightmare.” I squeak as I talk, and I can’t say how much of that’s because of ribs. “I’m living my nightmare.”

“I’m your nightmare?”

“Can’t think of anything worse than a talking frog.”

“I am not a frog!” The amphibian in question gestures to its body with its front right leg. “Do you see the warts? I’m a toad.”

“No difference. You’re all terrible.”

The toad’s nostrils flare, and it rolls its eyes. I’m too far into this craziness to ponder whether that’s possible.

Why bother?

It’s already talked. Clearly, I’ve left reality.

“What’s with the insult? What’d I ever do to you?”

“I almost had a heart attack.”

The toad snorts. “That’s a you problem.”

“I—Leave me alone. I can’t deal with this right now.”

I go to stand, but the agony in my chest won’t let me. A new terror weaves through my fear. When I got startled, did I make my injury worse? How screwed am I?

The toad inches closer to me. I’m hurting too much to back away, like every fiber of my being is demanding.

“I can help.”

“With what?”

“You’re hurt. Again.”

My eyes narrow. “What do you mean ‘again’? Have you been stalking me?”

Another eye roll. “I’m not that bored. You just come here a lot, and when you do, something is always wrong with you.”

I frown. The toad is right, partially. I do come to the campground frequently. It’s a beautiful place I have fond memories of. Every summer my dad’s family stays here, and when I’m allowed to visit, I always have fun.

But I don’t just come to the campground by myself when I’m upset or injured. I also visit when I…When I…

No, the toad can’t be fully correct. I can’t come up with an example because I’m upset, that’s all. And I can’t be blamed. A toad is talking to me!

“You’re mistaken.”

“All right, Mr. Denial, believe what you will. Regardless, something’s wrong with you now, and I can fix it.”

“What the hell can a toad do?”

“Well, I’m not a doctor, and lack thumbs, so obviously nothing directly. But I have an item you’d like.”

“An item?”

“One minute.” The toad fixes me with an intense stare. “Will you wait?”

I shrug. “Why not? Let’s make this situation weirder.”

The toad watches me for a second before hopping toward the pond. It flings itself into the water, and I pray to God it doesn’t resurface. If it stays in the pond, I’ll have woken up from this strange dream. I don’t care if my ribs are still busted. At least I won’t have to deal with the horror of a snarky, chit-chatting amphibian.

But two minutes later, I’m rethinking my belief in God as the toad pops out of the water. Something dangles out of its mouth. It eases its way out of the pond and approaches me. I fight not to scramble away. Its as unpleasant as the first time I noticed it.

The toad drops the object. It uses its front toes to adjust the object so I can look at it. “So?”

“It’s a nice necklace.”

And it is, though jewelry isn’t my thing. Half the size of the toad, the pendant is shaped like two snakes wrapped around a stick. Gemstones and crystals I can’t identify create the pretty mosaic snake scales that sparkle when the sun hits the water droplets that cling to them. The pendant hangs off a thin iron chain.

“I’ll have you know, it’s better than nice. It’s a powerful amulet.”

“So powerful it can heal me?”

“Yeah.”

I can’t help it, I laugh. Peak of ridiculousness should be the talking toad, but no, it’s this creature informing me amulets are more than trinkets that waste space. I can’t say why, but hearing this settles the internal debate about the validity of this moment. 

The toad frowns. “Why is that funny?”

“You’re telling me that necklaces are magic?”

“Not all of them, no. But this one is.”

“Magic isn’t real.”

“Is the fact that I’m talking ‘natural’?”

“Maybe you’re a super evolved toad. A new step in your species’ future.”

“Or you could stop being stupid and accept that magic exists. And magic is what’s going to heal you.”

Okay, I’ll play along. What else do I have going on? And I might score a free necklace out of it. What I’ll do with it, I don’t know, but I’ll worry about that later.

“Fine.”

The toad’s eyes brighten. “You mean it?”

“Sure.” I reach for the necklace. “I’ll—”

The toad settles on top of the necklace, and I pull my hand back. Had I been any slower, I would have felt its dry, bumpy skin. Then I would’ve screamed again, though this time I’d never stop.

“You can’t have it yet.”

“Why not?”

“We need to strike a deal.”

“What kind of deal?”

“I’ll give you the necklace, and activate it, if you agree to help me to the best of your capabilities.”

“What could I possibly do for a toad?”

“It’s a simple thing. Nothing illegal or cruel.”

What do I have to lose?

As much as I hate my companion, this entire situation has been too pleasant to be a part of Hell. Unless it’s a trap, but the toad is too much of an ass for me to believe that. 

“Yeah, okay.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

The toad’s mouth opens in what might be a smile. I swear it did it just to churn my stomach. “Find a sharp rock,” it tells me. “There’s a few near the pond.”

“Why?”

“All amulets need blood to tailor its power to the wearer.”

It sounds like utter nonsense, but who am I to argue with a talking toad?

I do as instructed, though I take an embarrassing amount of time. Thankfully, the toad makes no comment as I fumble about. It hums a tune that reminds me of something from High School Musical and looks at the trailers my family leaves here year-round.

“I got it,” I announce. I wiggle my way back to the toad and refuse to acknowledge that I’m much closer to it than I intended.

The toad’s attention returns to me. “Well, get to it. I need a few drops.”

I mutter to myself about what a demanding dick it is, but carve the rock into my left palm. It takes two tries before the skin cracks open. Blood wells out of the wound. Wincing, I hold my hand over the necklace. A handful of drops fall on it before the toad tells me it’s enough.

Once I remove my hand, the toad touches the pendant in a spot where there’s no blood. It chants, but I can’t understand a word of what it’s saying. It’s likely a spell, not that I’ll ask.

The chanting isn’t for long, and when the toad backs away from the necklace, there’s no longer any blood on it. Nothing else is different about it, but the toad nods at me. “It’s ready. Give it a shot. Make sure it touches as much skin as possible.”

My fingers shake as I pick up the necklace. It’s heavier than I imagined, and it smells like cloves. Logic tells me it shouldn’t be as warm as it is, yet I slip the chain over my head. The pendant rests past my clavicle bone once it’s under my shirt.

Heat radiates from the necklace, and that heat seeps into skin, past all the layers until it roots itself into my veins. Then, as quickly as my heart pumps blood, the heat fills my body. Through my bewilderment, I realize the heat is more intense on my left palm and inside my chest.

When the heat is gone, I take a full breath without soreness. The cut on my palm has scabbed over, looking like it happened days ago.

“Holy shit!”

The toad chuckles. “I told you.”

“But magic isn’t—Holy shit!” This comes out in a yell that doesn’t hurt. Or what pain exists is like a faded bruise being poked.

“Yes, yes. Now, listen.” The toad waits to continue until I tear my gaze from my palm. “The pendant will heal very minor injuries almost instantly. The bigger or more damaging will take longer. It can’t save you from death, and it might stop working if you’re too distressed. Wear it always to keep you from getting sick. Don’t let it get wet and give it more blood once a year.”

“T-That all?”

“That’s all you need to know to get the most out of it.”

“Okay. So, what do I need to do for you?” 

“You…um…need to kiss me.”

“Excuse me?”

The toad can’t look at me. “A kiss. It’ll break this unoriginal curse.”

“Wait—You’re not a toad?”

“Well, of course I’m not. How many toads do you know that can talk?”

“None, but I thought—"

“I’m a teenager, just like you. I got cursed.”

“There’s a reason for it, right?”

“I don’t see why that’s relevant.”

I shake my head. “No way am I going to kiss you if I don’t know what led to your current situation. It’s the least you can do.”

“I gave you a healing amulet!”

“So? You want me to kiss you. Me, a person petrified of frogs and toads. I’m going to carry around this emotional scar forever.”

“You’re a giant baby.”

“It’s my one condition.”

The toad’s sigh shakes its entire body. “Fine. Fine.” It shifts so that it can look at me, but not directly. “I made out with my sister’s crush.”

“Did you know that was her crush?”

“Yes. And I did it where I knew she’d see us.”

“Why?”

“Because she—” The toad closes its eyes. “You know what? My reasoning doesn’t matter. What I did was wrong, and I deserved my punishment.” The toad meets my gaze. “I just want this to end so I can tell my sister how sorry I am.”

With that confession, I can stomach through the kiss. The toad’s regret is genuine, and the need to mend what’s broken radiates from its every molecule. It wouldn’t be right if I didn’t help.

I lean forward and cup my hands together on the ground before me. “Get over here.”

Surprise widens the toad’s eyes to an ungodly size. “Really? You’ll do it?”

“Not if we don’t make it quick. If I think about it too much, I’m gonna vomit.”

The toad shudders. “Don’t make me envision your vomit-covered lips on me.”

“I—”

The toad hops into my hands. The urge to hurl it into the forest rushes through me, but I ignore it by focusing on the heat still radiating from the necklace. Everything is fine. I can kiss a toad. Just a brief peck. It’s not like we have to touch tongues.

“Well?”

“Okay.” Deep breath, and I raise my cupped hands to my mouth. Another deep breath. “I can do this.”

“Hurry, before I pee on you.”

My fingers curl toward the toad. “Don’t you dare.”

“Drag this out and I will.”

I don’t call the toad’s bluff. So quick I’m a blur, my lips press against the toad’s skin. I don’t throw up, but I can’t hold the toad anymore.

Luckily, I put the toad down in time. As soon as it touches the ground, a shimmering gray light engulfs the toad. The light expands and grows taller until it’s person-sized. The light disappears as fast as it appeared, and in its absence stands a teenage girl about my age. Nothing about her blonde hair, brown eyes, and sun-kissed skin resembles the toad. I can’t comprehend how she’s wearing a shirt and jeans, though neither clothing item existed a moment ago.

The girl stretches. “Damn, it’s been too long.” She smiles at me, and her teeth are so white they’re blinding. “Thank you, Josh.”

“N-No problem, uh…”

The girl holds out her hand. “Aisling.”

I jump to my feet and shake her hand. “Nice to meet the real you, Aisling.”

Aisling chuckles. “Much more pleasing to the eye, aren’t I?”

“I have no desire to kick you into the pond.”

Aisling smirks. “If I had more time, I might give you a reason, but I’ve gotta go.”

“Do you need a ride?”

Why did I offer that? I can’t provide that.

Aisling shakes her head. “I got that covered. Thanks, though.” She snaps her fingers. In her other hand, a slip of paper appears. She holds it out to me. 

I take it and examine the ten numbers sprawled across it. “Your phone number?”

“Who else’s would it be?”

“Yeah, but why?”

Aisling’s expression darkens. “The people you live with should learn how to say sorry. If you ever want that, I wouldn’t mind helping you out.”

I can’t tell how that offer makes me feel. Too much has happened today in such a short time that it’ll take me days to examine it. Maybe then I’ll be ready to do what Aisling’s suggesting.

“Okay,” I say, and pocket her number.

Aisling nods. “Bye, Josh.”

“B—”

Again, she snaps her fingers and disappears with no light or sound. Aisling is just gone.