rivers_bend

Yesterday was my mom's birthday. I didn't know what to get her so I thought I would write her a story. The plot bunny that came to me involved my memories of going to visit my grandmother when I was a little girl. But my grandmother (her mother) died at the beginning of June. And I didn't want to make her too sad.

I wrote The Frog Hospital

The frog floated listlessly, one leg twitching in the chlorinated water as it bumped against the filter. The little girl saw it, and scooping it up, she ran towards her mother. “Mommy, Mommy, look! I found another frog!” She held it gently in her tightly cupped hands, mindful of her grandmother’s warning about squeezing the poor animals.

Before the woman had a chance to see, her daughter had raced past her and deposited the frog into the blow-up pool, filled that morning with fresh water for the very purpose of rescuing chlorinated frogs. This one joined three compatriots rescued earlier that day, all of whom were showing signs of improvement.

“Do the rings Mommy.” The frog forgotten now that it was ‘safe’, the little girl returned her attention to her play. The woman wasn’t sure why it was important for her to throw the rings into the pool to be fetched up from the bottom, but that was the way with children. Their minds worked in mysterious ways. They were piled on the table next to her. That was one thing at least, her daughter was much more reliable at returning fetched items than a certain black dog. Who must be missing them.

“Mommy, the rings!” The woman picked them up and one by one, threw them into the pool. She tried to avoid the deepest end yet send them far enough so her daughter didn’t complain. Despite the gently smoking mosquito coils she found herself batting the whining, biting creatures away from her face.

“I got one, I got one Mommy!” Her daughter held the ring aloft triumphantly before sliding it up her arm like a ridiculously oversized bracelet and diving for another. The woman looked up to see her mother walking towards the swimming pool with a recently awakened grandson in one arm and a drink in her hand. She offered both to the woman. The cold drink was welcome as the day was getting progressively more humid. Her son wriggled on her lap.

Later there was a chance to truly relax when her mother took her daughter for a walk in the woods while her son had a second nap.

“What’s that Grammy?” The little girl was always full of questions.

“It’s a Jack in the Pulpit.” The grandmother pointed out the little ‘man’ in his green leafy pulpit.

“What’s this?”

“That’s a Lady’s Slipper.”

“Will we see some turtles today?”

“We will see what we shall see.”

“Let’s see turtles.”

They made their way through the woods, the driveway an occasional flash of white through the trees, down towards the road. There were often box turtles in the ditch there. Today they were successful in their hunt.

“Can they come live in the pool with the frogs?”

“They would rather stay here.”

“Why?”

“Because this is where they live. Wouldn’t you rather stay in your house than be picked up and taken somewhere else?”

“But they could come and visit. Like I come and visited you.”

The grandmother smiled to herself. “Not today. Today the turtles want to stay at home. Shall we go and see what’s for supper?” She took her granddaughter by the hand and started to lead her back towards the house. Reluctantly, and with a final wistful look back towards the turtles, the little girl let herself be led.

Darkness started to fall as they finished eating. A mama deer and two fawns walked into the light spilling out of the picture windows. The little girl was delighted, though her grandmother feared for her garden. The little girl bounced in her seat. “Can I go see the frogs?”

“You can see them tomorrow.” Her mother looked at her watch. “It’s bedtime now.”

“Just quick? To see if they’re still there or if they got better and hopped away?”

“Nope. Bedtime. You can have a story first if you hurry.”

When she came back from putting her daughter to bed her mother was washing the dishes and her father was watching the news. The katy-dids were arguing amongst themselves Katy did, Katy didn’t, yes she did, no she didn’t, and she said to her mother, “Katy did.”

Her mother smiled. “No she didn’t.”

“Do you want some help?”

“No. Almost done. Go have a drink. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Instead of going out to the living room to see what was going on in the world according to the news, she pushed open the kitchen door. The heat had broken with night fall and there was a hint of a breeze. The woman walked down to the pool. Peering into the ‘frog pool’ in the pale light spilling from the house, she saw a lone frog working to jump out. She leaned down and helped him on to the edge. He sat there for a moment and then, in the time it took her to blink, was gone. She looked for him at the edge of the big swimming pool, knowing that they often ended up right back there after being rescued, but she didn’t see him.

She looked back at the house. At her mother in the kitchen window, still standing at the sink. At the back of her father’s head, just visible through the window as he sat on the sofa watching television. At the darkened windows behind which her children slept. And she smiled.


anyway and sent it to her. And it made her cry but it made her happier than it made her sad. Which made me happy.