The Present Impossibility of Amphibian to Human Transformations

Princess Literella heard an urgent knocking on her window, a sharp rat-a-tat sound, the kind that might be made using long and pointy nails. She sat up in bed, pulling the soft woollen covers up to her chin, and listened.

Rat-a-tat, there it was again. A shiver ran up her spine. Being a princess and all, she knew she had to be careful with strangers at her window late at night. And where were her guards, she mused, who would usually spring into action and ward off unknowns?

Nevertheless, her heart did skip a beat when she thought someone may have arrived with a new frog. A frog that she could kiss, that would become her prince.

Now all of this had started a long time ago.

*

Once upon a time, there lived a princess called Literella, in a kingdom far, far away. Literella was the only daughter of King Polonius and Queen Moderna and they raised her with the greatest love and care two parents could bestow on a little girl. And given their royal status, they were able to shower her with the type of extraordinary riches that the hoi polloi could scarce afford.

The little princess wore a crown of rubies, and little anklets of gold. Her arms were adorned with diamond bracelets. Whatever she wanted, she got. And thus she grew up to be a very spoilt little girl.

When she was two, the first fairy tale the King read to her was The Frog Prince. Literella was enchanted with the tale. As soon as the King finished, she clapped her hands and said, “Again!” So the King read the tale again. And then she cried, “Again!” After the third reading the King was tired. He was contemplating a war with the neighboring kingdom, and whether to raise taxes on the feudal lords. He had neither time nor patience to read The Frog Prince a fourth time.

“Time for bed, Literella,” he said, and blew out her candle. As he left, he could hear the princess sobbing into the arms of her lady-in-waiting, begging for another reading of the story.

As the years passed, the King and Queen hired the best tutors to begin educating Literella on the fine arts of public affairs, politics and history, the management of the royal household and the best modes of charity. But Literella never forgot The Frog Prince. Every night, she would pull out her dog eared edition of Grimms’ Fairy Tales, and read the tale.

When she was twelve, much to the King and Queen’s consternation, she declared, “I need to find my own Frog Prince.”

“And what do you mean by that, my dear?” said the Queen.

“I’m looking for the Prince who's trapped inside a frog of course, Mother,” said Literella.

“That’s just a fairy tale darling,” said the Queen, shooting the King a meaningful look for some support.

“What do you mean, Mother?” said Literella.

“Well, not everything you read in books is true,” said the Queen. “After all, have you ever seen a Prince emerge from a frog?”

“Well, we’ve never seen God either, and yet we pray to him all the time,” said Literella.

“She has a point there,” said the King, unhelpfully.

“Really?” said the Queen, flashing him a look of annoyance. “Don’t you have a war to fight, dear?”

*

Word of Literella’s obsession with a frog prince spread far and wide. The palace was inundated with merchants, peasants, hunters and lords, all carrying frogs. Literella had been used to getting her way for a long time, and she insisted on turning no frog away.

“If you stop me, I will stop eating," she threatened, adding, "Father, Mother, this is my future husband we’re talking about.”

“Yes, we know,” they said despondently to their headstrong, twelve year old child.

The Queen turned to the King. "What shall we do?" she whispered.

The King was the chief spoiler of children. "She's just a little girl with a wild imagination," he said. "It's harmless, she'll outgrow it in time."

And so they watched her traipse off to her sitting room and receive frog bearers one by one. Each would hold their frog in front of her, arms outstretched. Then Literella would close her eyes tight, pucker her lips and kiss the little creature, only to frighten it half out of its mind. At this point, if the frog hadn’t already jumped clean out of the palm of its owner and escaped, Literella would insist it be released into the Royal Pond.

The Royal Pond became overpopulated with frogs. The kingdom's snakes were going hungry. And everybody was laughing at Literella.

As usual, the King turned over the more intractable problems to the Queen.

“Here,” he said. “You handle this. After all, you’re the one who brought her up this way.” He loved to foist the blame on her for his own transgressions. Then he got on his horse and said he was going hunting.

In despair, the Queen approached the Royal Wizardess. “Wizardess, I need your good counsel. The situation with Literella is literally out of control,” said the Queen.

“Indeed it is,” said the Wizardess. “And I know just what to do. Leave it all to me.”

*

That night, encouraged by the possibility of her frog prince, Literella ran to her window and pulled open the curtain. It was a moonless night, and all Literella could see was the silhouette of a hunchback. In his palm he held the most exotic frog. It glowed green with red stripes. She peered closely into the window to see the hunchback's face. He looked like he was a hundred years old, with a deeply lined face, and sunken eyes. He held up a thin finger and gestured to her to open her window.

Literella looked behind to see if any of the palace guards were around. There was no one. What luck, she thought to herself. She opened her window, and before she knew it, the hunchback had jumped into her room.

“Princess, do you want to kiss this frog?” he asked in a thin, quavering voice.

“Yes,” she said. “I do!”

“Now, remember,” said the hunchback, “Once a Prince emerges you must marry him. You may not complain he is not to your liking.”

“But aren’t all Princes wonderful?” asked Literella.

“All their mothers find them wonderful, of that we can be sure,” said the hunchback. And then he cackled, a high pitched whining laugh, and Literella was suddenly very afraid. For the first time, she wasn’t sure she wanted to kiss the frog at all.

“How do you know this?” asked Literella.

“Because I was a prince once, and my mother thought I was wonderful,” said the hunchback.

At this Literella shrank back in fear. The hunchback, a prince? He didn’t look like any of the princes in her picture book. What if she kissed this frog, and he turned into a hunchback prince? What would she do then?

“I don’t think I’m going to kiss this frog,” she said, stepping back.

“I’ve come all this way and brought a very special frog for you,” said the hunchback. “You cannot refuse.” He held out the green and red frog to her, and the little creature seemed to peer at her hopefully.

“But I can,” she said, and stamped her foot.

“No, you cannot,” said the hunchback. “Except under one condition.”

“Anything,” she said. She was now mortally scared of being betrothed to a hunchback prince for life. (This is unfortunate, but hunchback princes were really not very popular.)

“If you refuse to kiss this frog, you must promise to never go looking for a frog prince again,” said the hunchback.

“Never!” she agreed readily, breathing a huge sigh of relief.

The hunchback put the frog into his pocket. Then he placed one leg over the window sill, and then the other and disappeared into the black night.

Outside the palace walls, the Wizardess found him and gave him twenty silver coins.

She then said, ”I’ll take the frog, please. He’ll live in the Royal Pond. A good reminder.” And then she laughed, a hearty, wicked laugh.

*

The next day, the Princess awoke and declared she was done with seeking out Frog Princes. The Queen was overjoyed. The King returned from his hunt. The green and red frog croaked in the Royal Pond.

On the Wizardess’s recommendation, the King and Queen hired a Science Tutor for Literella. One of the first lessons they covered was, “The Present Impossibility of Amphibian to Human Transformations.”

Literella still read The Frog Prince again from time to time. But never again did she confuse fiction with fact.