The Brave Green Frog

The evening chorus was the highlight of every summer night. The crickets chirped their clear song from the long grasses along the shore. Reeds rustled in harmony as the muskrat scurried on the hunt. The bullfrogs had a monopoly on the bass section while the green frogs strummed their banjo tune. The cicadas spun a rhythm to which mosquitoes hummed; so many of them that they filled out the symphony.

Iphicles was a green frog and he was just waking up to his place in the chorus. He was timid and did his best to stay hidden among the reeds of his pond, only peeking out to catch a ray of summer sunshine or a dragonfly snack. Both were welcome distractions to Iphicles’ worries. 

Iphicles learned how to be a frog by watching the other frogs. He learned to hide. The other frogs slipped silently through the water, hiding in the scum layers and plant materials. They lived their whole lives by stealth and speed, never stopping to enjoy the orchestra of pondlife. Iphicles wondered if there was something more. 

“Why are we so afraid?” Iphicles asked another frog as she passed by in a blink. His words seemed to spur her to new speeds.   

That evening, the frog chorus rested their heads on the surface of the water. The warm summer breeze rustled the reeds and some of the frogs strummed their voices in reply. Along the shore, crickets sang their nighttime lullaby and the fireflies blinked their presence. In the nearby copse of trees, where the shadows gathered and never quite disappeared entirely, a heron rustled where she roosted for the night. 

“Over here!” Iphicles heard one day, narrowly avoiding being squashed beneath a boot that stomped into the water from nowhere. Like the good frog he was, he shot through the water at top speed, thrilling at the feel of the cool water slipping past.

Two children ambled about the pond with nets. They laughed and shouted to each other as they explored the pond and the surrounding area. The heron spotted them from where she stood on the far side of the pond, one leg drawn up close to her body. After watching the children closely for a few moments, she stretched her great wings and launched herself into the sky. Her shadow passed over Iphicles’ hiding spot as she flew to the safety of the trees, briefly blotting out the sun. Iphicles shivered.

Watching the children splash in the shallows, Iphicles’ instincts kicked to life. He understood that these creatures were to be feared. They were capable of unspeakable horrors. Supposedly. Iphicles watched from a safe distance. 

“I got one!” the blue-clad child exclaimed. He triumphantly held up a net that was writhing with a minnow. Poor Gilead, Iphicles thought. The child in orange clomped over to investigate. The children shouted back and forth about the minnow for several minutes. Iphicles wondered whether the children knew that the minnow in the net could only hold his breath for so long. This was why fear was warranted. 

Suddenly, the child in blue turned the net inside out, dropping Gilead back into the pond with a tiny splish. Iphicles was surprised. What was this? The children had released Gilead. They had not carried him off or eaten him on the spot. Iphicles struck out to find Gilead immediately.

“I feared the worst!” Iphicles said when he found Gilead catching his breath between the roots of a patch of lily pads. “I saw the child lift you in that net and thought I would never see you again.”

Gilead swam a tight circle, showing off just how fine he was. He had not a scratch on him. Maybe children aren’t so bad, Iphicles thought.

Dusk fell over the pond. The night chorus returned to sing their pieces. Iphicles joined in, taking up a place with the other green frogs and their banjo string song. He felt exhilarated from the day’s events. His instincts had demanded he swim away from the children and this had served him well when a boot was casting a shadow over his soft body. But no harm had come to Gilead upon being temporarily captured. It was a revelation to consider one’s instincts being incorrect. 

The next time children arrived on the pond’s edge, Iphicles stayed nearby. He experienced a certain joy while watching the clumsy splashing in the shallows. He wondered why a creature so ill-suited to the water would bother to enter it at all. The sounds the children made were thrilling, making Iphicles balance between fear and excitement. He became caught up in listening to their chatter and edged nearer than he had intended.

Suddenly he was alarmed to find that he was cast in shadow. Images of boots flooded his mind and he kicked out towards the cover of the deeper waters. Before he had gotten two strokes away, Iphicles found his progress impeded by clouds. Nonsense. Clouds do not descend onto the waters. It wasn’t until he was lifted out of the water that Iphicles understood. He had been caught in the children’s net. 

Iphicles calmed himself with memories of Gilead being set free. Though these children were colored differently. Did their colors mean anything? The yellow-clothed child was holding the net. The fluffy purple child was wide-eyed. Fear looked the same no matter the species, Iphicles thought in a lucid moment before panic overtook him.

Short, thick fingers reached into the net and grasped Iphicles around the middle. He had never been held before. For a moment, it reminded Iphicles of finding shelter. There was a certain comfort about being surrounded and covered rather than exposed and open. The child brought the hand holding Iphicles up out of the net. The fluffy purple child ran away with a shrill scream, emboldening Iphicles. He was a frightening beast!

The child in yellow stared at him. Iphicles stared back and was startled by his own reflection in those huge human eyes. He gave an almighty leap and landed with a splash back in the pond. 

He struck out for shelter among the rocks and engaged in some critical self-examination. He had survived an encounter with a large enemy and had nary a scratch. Children weren’t so bad after all! They actually found him frightening! He had even found himself frightening! Maybe other things around the pond weren’t as bad as an instinctual impression would imply. 

Though further exploration would have to wait. His senses were running on overdrive after the excitement of being trapped and detained. Escaping had heightened the experience to be almost overwhelming. 

The heron landed just beyond Iphicles’ rock, nearly halfway around the pond from where the yellow-clothed child still splashed. The frilly purple companion had not returned. Iphicles watched the heron dip her beak into the water, and then preen her feathers. Iphicles the frog noticed that the heron was not even as tall as the children had been. 

He tucked his body into the sun-warmed waters, enjoying the equally warm feelings of bravado and success.

At the night chorus that evening, Iphicles added his throaty banjo call with gusto. Never had he felt so intoxicated by adventure. Muddy dreams of possibility stirred in his mind.

Possibility rose with the sun as the new day dawned. Iphicles felt an eagerness to recapture the adrenaline rush his capture had imprinted within him. 

He reached with his webbed front feet and kicked with his back legs, propelling himself through the water at a leisurely pace. His eye tracked a mayfly flitting about just above the surface of the water. Flipping himself over and upward in a movement that would make a gymnast jealous, Iphicles surged for the surface and struck out with his tongue. He savored his meal and let it feed his ambition as much as his physical hunger. 

The heron landed at the edge of the pond, not far from where the children had netted Iphicles. She was utterly unconcerned with her surroundings, settling into a comfortable position in the shallows. 

Iphicles angled his trajectory towards the shore. He knew of a rock that would make a good vantage point to observe this great enemy of the frog species from up close. He, Iphicles the Fearsome, would frighten the heron back to her trees. 

He gained the favorable position of the rock and peeked out of the water, perfectly positioned to confront the heron. She was right– 

There was no time to duck for cover or even blink. The heron stabbed her beak into the water precisely where the green frog had surfaced. Iphicles remembered the feeling of being held. He had a momentary view of the pond from higher than usual before he was swallowed whole.