When springtime comes, the
kids love to play outside, as the grass is green and the sun is out, but it
isn’t too cold or too hot outside. The teacher looks out and watches, not
really thinking about anything. She still has questions, but ones that have no
answers.
Lingering.
Lin-
geringgg…
During class one day, a kid
brings in a frog she says she found on the way to school. It was raining frogs
the day before, anyways.
There are no frogs here! the teacher exclaims.
But it is a frog!
Maybe if you kiss it, it will turn into a prince!
So the kid does, and the
frog turns into a handsome prince. He’s wearing a fine suit, with dark brown
hair, and tall too.
My god…
We let him stay in class
for the rest of the day. He doesn’t talk, and doesn’t seem to move very much.
At one point though, early in the afternoon, he points outside. It’s a rainbow.
qwertyuiopasdfghjk
All the kids yelp with joy
at the sight — it’s a full rainbow, curved and complete, with hints of a double
faintly edging into existence.
And like that, the prince
fades. He’s gone by the time the final bell rings, but the kids hardly notice.
They go skipping back home, while the teacher stays a while longer. When she
does leave, and walks out to the back to get to her car, she sees, all around,
littering the asphalt parking lot, hundreds of frogs. They look at her in
earnest, expectant like a room full of obedient children. Then the creaking
begins.
crackle, crackle,
don’t leave don’t
leave
Goosebumps pop up
instantaneously on the teacher as the sun dims and the creaking ascends to a
high pitch —
RIBBITTTTTttttttttt…
“Save us.”
“Save us now, please.”
“Missus…”
The teacher kneels down,
putting down her bag, and reaches out to one of the frogs. It leaps quickly
into her hands, and she leans in and pecks it on the lips. Nothing happens. A
shiver runs down the teacher’s spine. Absolute tErRor. Seizing, clasping around
the neck, the wrist...
another...another...where is the prince???¿???????????????????¿?
The frogs are on her now,
unrelenting and agggresivvve. She squeals a little before descending into a
spiral (spiralingspiraling) down to some state of surrender. She opens her
mouth, mouthing words syllables that come out as:
ta ha yr doooo
bulasol unU
m
de tri forrd um keeEeta Lau
drim —
—
da dA
da
—
The prince rises from the
chaos and pulls the teacher out. She’s flattered, blushing from cheek to rosy
cheek. Are you ok? inquires the prince. Yes, I think so, the teacher responds.
Ok, the prince says.
Ok, the teacher says.
The sun sets quietly,
burning with warm colors. The teacher looks out from her kitchen table at home,
thinking about an absent man she loves. He’s no prince, she admits, but the
crooked smile, and a twinkle in the eye —
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