The water rippled as a breeze from the northwest tickled my back. I faced the sun, eyes wide open, accepting the day’s last moments of warmth. I had been feeling lonely lately, however it was my fault. It started when I met her. I was in over my head in more ways than one. She was much taller than I. Also,there was the age difference. I’m sure many people frowned upon it. I was the laughing stock up and down the pond. My height has always been a problem with women, which is why I jumped at the opportunity. She was twelve and I eighteen, but that didn’t matter to me. This was love. At least I thought.
I had seen her down by the pond plenty of times. We all did. My eyes, already protruding from my head, nearly sprung after her themselves. I relaxed in the water and pretended not to see her. That was my move to get women, and bugs. Her skin was white. Her hair was blonde. She walked gracefully and I question whether her feet actually touched the ground. Her teeth were pearls and an orthodontist’s nightmare. She was long and thin and classic. She spoke softly and sang like an Angel, but she only sang when she thought she was alone. I admired her from a far as she skipped rocks on the water. She was terrible. She could only get two skips.
I approached her this day. I was a daring fellow. She saw me, but didn’t budge. She was crying, head in her hands. As the tears escape her bloodshot blues, I sprang into action. With one excited leap, I landed on her lap. She was a stoic broad. No flinch. No yelp. No swat with her hands. She just peered down at me and crinkled her crooked nose. It took a few minutes and a few timely jokes, but I made her troubles go away.
“Hi Mister Froggy.” That wasn’t my name, but she patted my head so I let it go.
“How ya doin there beautiful? What’s with the tears? Surely, it can’t be all that bad.”
“My boyfriend broke up with me. He was Billy from the next block. He was pulling Sally in his wagon.”
“Maybe she needed a ride,” I offered as I slurped a fly off her shoulder.
“That was our wagon. He said so himself.”
“Forget about him baby. You’re with me now. If there’s one thing I am, it’s monogamous.” I winked.
“Awe. You're so cute. Are the stories true,” she questioned as she rubbed her pointed chin.
“What stories?”
“Of you being a prince?”
“Yeah. How d’ya know? My reputation must precede me. Were you talking to Lucy from lilly pad six?”
I sucked in my gut, stuck out my chest. I stood on my hind legs. She squeezed me tight. She was strong yet gentle. She pulled me close to her face. We started going at it, tongue kissing and everything. Her face was flush as she placed me on the ground. She stepped back and called me her prince.
“How ‘bout some more,” I coyly queried.
“Not until you become my prince.” She wagged her finger at me.
What was she saying? Didn’t I perform? This isn’t good for my delicate male ego. She grew frustrated. I grew confused. I thought I was doing it right.
“Why aren’t you changing,” she screamed high pitched. An octave higher and Fido would be here.
“Changing me already? I’ve had it with you broads. I’m going back to my lilly pad, number three.”
I turned in a huff. I was mad. Before I could take a step, she shifted her weight and kicked me clear across the pond. Shouting profanities - I was kind of turned on - but the landing took my attention. I was hurt in more ways than one. I haven’t been able to sit since. I learned my lesson, though it was painful. Never date out of your species.
***
The pond had been there for years. It was just a lonely pond, but soon the developers capitalized on its coziness. First a house to the north; the Obecks moved in. Their son’s name was William Obeck. He was a wild child and covered with scabs. His attention span was that of a dyslexic gnat. He loved to run, but was more adept at falling. He had a bike and a way with the ladies. He also owned a wagon, all red. He was untamable; at least that’s what his parents thought. They prefer he played all day.
From sun up to sun down Billy was out and about. He was social chair down by the pond. He threw rocks at the squirrels. He chased the possum. He tried to spit on the frogs. The snakes he was afraid of, the rats he liked, but it was this new vixen that caught his eye. The moving trucks approached casting ominous shadows. They also brought Sally Defry.
At first glance upon exiting the truck, she grew frantic with excitement. A peek to her mom and a nod of mom’s head, Sally tore straight for the water. With red hair and freckles, she looked like a flame - a flash of orange light heading for Billy. She gained speed as she loped down the slope, but lost more control by the second. Her arms started flailing. Her legs gave in. She tumbled chin over forehead. Coming to rest in a squall of dust, Billy was there to pick her up.
“Are you okay,” he asked then laughed. “There’s a twenty-five mile per hour speed limit round these ways.”
“I know that,” she countered. “I was only up to twenty-three.”
He agreed with a nod.
“How come you have so many scabs,” asked Sally.
“I don’t know. I guess I like them.”
“You like them? Do you mean lick them? Cause I don’t know anybody who likes scabs.”
“I don’t lick them,” said Billy. “I pick them. It’s step number one in the healing process.”
“No it isn’t,” Sally argued.
“Yes it is.”
“No it isn’t.”
“Okay then what is,” Billy rolled his eyes.
“Getting hurt,” Sally stuck her tongue out at Billy.
“Well, it looks like your healing. Healing from your chin, elbow and knees,” he said with a modicum of compassion.
“My butt hurts too,” Sally whimpered.
“So does mine.” They high-fived. It was the first thing they had in common.
“Anyway, it’s getting pretty late. I should head home.” Billy started to mosey up the hill.
“Wait,” called Sally. “I need help. My knee hurts, can you carry me up?”
“No, my butt hurts too much. I also stretched my patella and my femur feels out of whack. But wait there. I’ll be right back.”
What looked like a mosey turned into a limp as the incline toyed with Billy. He gimped back down with his wagon trailing behind. It was fire engine red, his favorite color. Sally hopped in back and Billy started to tow. It was proof that chivalry only had a head wound.
As they conquered the hill, Tracy, Billy’s next door neighbor, passed by with a look of shocking disappointment. Billy said hi, but Tracy didn’t return the favor. She headed like a zombie towards the pond. The sun swung low silhouetting her image by the water. She flung rocks and kicked at the dirt mumbling to herself the entire time. From the left of Billy’s house came a cascading call, “Tracy. It’s time for dinner.” She heard the call, but had unfinished business. It was with an unlucky frog. She must have been mad, or upset, or cruel. Whichever, the frog learned his lesson. She scooped him up and, in one fell swoop, kicked him clear across the pond. I guess she could now call it a day.
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