Chapter Fourteen

I gently scooped the little frog into my hand, an eyedropper cocked in one hand. Grey held the camera out, zoomed in. He smiled the way that someone smiles when they take a picture, the way he'd smile if the picture was of him. The camera clicked. I pushed the eyedropper into the frog's mouth, hand feeding him as I'd been doing since he'd come home. His cage was small, to restrict movement so that his little leg would heal.



I put the frog back in his cage, and moved towards Grey, leaned over his shoulder. The picture was just one of my hands and the frog, nothing big. He had a red shirt on, a Product Red. I leaned over his shoulder studying the picture, and as I was there, a foot away, his smell drifted toward me. It was sharp yet gentle. It smelled good. I backed away from him, pretended I was finished looking at the photo. Grey was a boy, I was a girl. But to me, that didn't mean a thing.

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Chapter Twelve

I strolled home, the sun slowly fading behind a horizon of trees. My head shot up, the sound of rackety wheels on concrete shooting through my ears. Pushed by his mother, a small boy rode in a plastic toy car. He beat his fists against the steering wheel. The mother, her brown hair cut short around he shoulders, smiled at me, an understanding smile. I stared at her blankly.



With a dull thud it settled in me, the gravity pushing it down into me, ignoring anything in it's way. The pain, the dead weight of this thing that had been snatched away from me threatened to open up, to leave me sobbing on the street, my eyes red and my face blotchy.



I weaved my hand inside of me, groped the stone, grasped it, and chucked it as far away as I could. This was better. There was no pain, no tears. There wasn't anything.

Chapter Eleven

"Grey Fortin and Alice Hayes," Mrs. Darvis glanced up, then looked back at her paper and called out the next pair. Grey looked over at me, raised an eyebrow. A small smile played at the edge of his lips. I looked away.

At Grey's house the next day, we laid out the rubrics for the projects. Science fair. A month and a half to do it. Three days to determine our subject and have it approved. Grey yanked a few library books out of his backpack. Electricty, 101 Science Projects for Kids, The Sun and You.



"So." He paused. "What are you intrested in?"



"I don't know."



"Cummon."



"Whatever, you can pick. Tell me what to do, I'll do it. I really don't care much."



He leaned forward, "So how about I do all the real work but let you do something small and stupid, so that you still get the grade?" Wow. He sounded sincere. No one ever made that offer.



I accepted his offer happily.



"Well if that's what you want, get over it," he smiled as he talked, joked. I sank back against the wall.



"Whatever."



Mrs. Fortin poked her head into Grey's bedroom. The room was painted a deep green, his brown bunk beds giving a forest look. Selves lined the top of the walls, and various toys and booked collected dust upon them. Mrs. Fortin asked if we would like some snacks, nachos, crisps, anything? We accepted, and five minutes later munched away on a bag of BBQ crisps.

Grey started quizzing me, trying to pull out a subject that I would find interesting. I replied to each one with a careless, 'sure,' 'if you want to,' 'whatever.'

"What about the frog?" He smiled slightly again. "You know, we could study how it heals over the next month."

For the first time that day, I smiled and agreed wholeheartedly.

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Chapter Ten

"Should we go in?" I quizzed.

"She's fine, she likes company, but not when she's working, if she can help it," Grey replied. I glanced again at the examination room door. I stacked my fists on my knee, switched the bottom one to the top. "Did you see the new Bean movie?" Grey asked.

"No, is it good?"

"Haven't seen it, just wondering if you had."

"Oh." Conversation terminated.

He started up again thirty seconds later, "Do you have brothers or sisters?" I ran a hand through my hair and nodded.

"Brother or sister?"

"Um, brother," I bit my lip, uncomfortable. "And you?"

"All alone," Grey smiled. "Do you want to play a game of cards?" He pulled a deck out of his back pocket. I smiled quietly and suggested Slam. We moved onto the floor, poised over the coffe table. Our hands flew, back and forth. Here, there. Card, card. I darted my hand in, whacked it onto the smaller pile. Game over, I grinned.

The door swung open. Dr. Fortin held a cardboard box, air holes punched in the top. "All yours." She handed it to me. "Bring him back in a week for a checkup." I thanked her. "Grey'll be going into ninth grade this year, same as you, right?" I nodded.

"See ya around then," I said bye to Grey and thanked Dr. Fortin. They watched me out to the road, then closed the door. I started the walk home.


Ten minutes later, sitting in my room, I pulled open the cardboard box, decided that I would get a bus down to the pet shop later on. The little green thing had a splint and bandage on it's leg. It looked so pathetic, so vunerable. Just like Jimmy. He could be dying right now. He could be dead. Maybe he too has a broken leg, but no cast. I checked myself. Alice, stop this! You are not to imagine. Don't think about it, Alice.

Chapter Nine

I paused at the gate. Grey's house was small, a cape cod with a white picket fence. Classic. A swinging sign read 'Fortin Animal Clinic.' The front door swung open, revealing a petite woman, her blonde hair pulled up in a messy bun. She wore a white jacket, a vet's jacket. "Oh my!" she exclaimed, quickly scanning me, the frog, and Grey. "Who've you brought home?"

"Alice. She has a wounded frog that needs some help." Grey smiled. The lady stepped confidently toward me and gently took the frog from my hands. "I'm Dr. Fortin. Grey's mother." I wiped the frog juice off on my hand onto my jeans and introduced myself. "Come on in," she invited as she turned toward the door.

I gave up on my doubts and headed inside. Grey followed. I glanced around the room. It was neat, tidy. Beautifully decorated, I felt as if I was in a shore house, vacationing. A stack of magazines rested on a coffe table. Grey inturupted my thoughts, "Doubles as a waiting room on weekdays," I nodded my head knowingly. Dr. Fortin turned to a brown door on the right. A sign reading, 'Patients This Way!' I glimpsed an examining room. She turned around, halfway through the door. "Oh, there's a phone on your left, why don't you give you're mum a call? I don't want her worried."

"Um, sure," I mumbled. I glanced around, spotted the phone.

"Hello? Mum?"

"Alice? Where are you?"

"Urm," I glanced at Grey, "a friend's." Grey raised his eyebrows.

Chapter Eight

He wasn't tall, wasn't short. His blonde hair spiked up, short. I glanced at his hazel brown eyes. Whistling, he came strolling down the street, paused when he saw me standing with a wounded frog in the middle of the road. He raised an eyebrow, not moving. Twenty seconds pass. Nothing happened. This was really annoying me.

"I'm Alice!" I shouted, though there really wasn't much of a distance.

"Grey," he intoduced, coming towards me. I'd shake his hand, but mine is currently occupied.

"Um right," I'm at a lost for words. I mean, he wasn't dashing or anything, but I had no idea what to make small talk about while standing in the middle of the road with a dying frog in my hand. Luckily, he started up again.

"What's with the frog?" he quizzes, and I quickly explain. "Well, it won't do the little thing any good sitting in your hands like that. Follow me, my mum's a vet, she can fix him up quite nicely." I'm wasn't so sure about this, owing to the fact that I've never even seen this guy. I hesitated. Grey recognized the pause, and pipes up, "Hey, you don't even have to come in." I glance at the frog and we head down the street.

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Chapter Seven

I quietly slipped back out through the gate, my mood low. My feet reached the street, my eyes glanced across, no cars were coming. My brain was somewhere else, far away. Which is why I almost stepped on the frog. It was a small, poor, pathetic creature, no bigger than the palm of my hand. I scanned the road, making sure that no cars were coming. It was clear. A deep gash ran along one of the little frog's leg. I moved a finger toward it, and it scrambled to get away, but failed, favoring it's injured leg. I tutted and cooed. It obviously couldn't stay here, it looked as if it was about to pass out, or drop dead. I wondered if it had lost a lot of blood.

Let me pause here and say that I have a phobia of slimy things. I can't eat oysters, tomatoes, mussels, anything that slithers down one's throat. I rarely swam in the ocean or in ponds, the seaweed and weeds just freaked me out. Picking up a moist, slimey, dying frog was not my cup of tea.

Which was why I was extremely surprised when I found the frog resting in my palm, and discovered that this was of my own doing. Well, I thought, after having gotten over the shock of what I'd done, now what? I glanced around, as if an answer would just pop out of the bushes.

When one did, I wasn't expecting it.

Chapter Six

Dr. Jones excused herself as the policeman left. Me, my parents, and a sidewalk. I watched my mother hold back her emotions. I could see her physically itching to rush forward and give me a mother-daughter hug, soppy, sweet, full of emotion. Keep itching, I thought bitterly, for if she chose to run forward and embrace me I would scream and bring the policeofficer back.

My father had creases of worry etched across his forehead. He must have come all the way from work when he heard that I had gone for walkies. His jet black hair resembled mine, but his is short, ordered, controlled. I stopped examining his hair and questioned, "Um, where's the car?"

The car was silent, dead silent. I felt it pressing in on me, pushing my skull back and forth. No longer able to bear the force of the silence, I sing, "Awkward silence!" and clap my hands to my knees. This promts my mother into action.

"Sweetie, you've got to stop doing this."

"What?"

"Running away."

"I walked Mum. Walked."

"Sorry, you must stop walking away," her voice was sweet, with a kind note in it, gentle. I couldn't stand it.

"Next year I'll be able to drive away. Oh, buy me a horse, then I can ride away."

"Alice." That was my dad, irritated.

"Mm?" I was enjoying this.

"After what happened to..." My mother began again, but I unbuckled my seat belt as she pulled up to the house.

"Later Mum, thanks for the ride," I yelled as I jogged off down the street, "I'll be back by three!" I had no desire to hear what my parents thought about the matter. As I turned the corner, I shut my eyes, my legs pumped hard across the sidewalk. I opened them, not even realizing where my legs had taken me.

I undid the latch and let myself into the pond area. It was alive with quiet murmurings, frogs croaked, birds chirped, a dragonfly buzzed from spot to spot. I tried not to think, tried to ignore the heavy weight on my chest, pushing, eating. I wandered over towards a petite tree, a new spruce. I fingered a branch, a twig really. It was only a few up from the ground. I ran a nail along each tiny knot, each little bump. I shut my eyes, but when I open them, there still isn't anything there. I don't find another piece of fabric, bright red. I don't see a peice of Jimmy's backpack. One little strip, removed, and now this little tree looks like any other one.