Frogs Not Roadkill

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
A brother is driving his little sister home but comes across something both miraculously and unexpectedly.

Submitted: June 07, 2012

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Submitted: June 07, 2012

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I will never forget that day; the day I met Mr. Froggy.



It all started out on a perfect summer evening. I was driving my sister from a play date back home. We were pretty rich so our house was built on a private lot in the middle of the forest. The main road was the only road that lead to our long driveway. For now it was lonely and the BMW X5 went smoothly on the gravel.



Even though spending my evening driving my little five year old sister wasn’t on my to-do list, the summer atmosphere was delightful. I rolled down all the windows and the sun roof, and enjoyed the silence of nature and the independence that came with driving.



“Peter!” Marcy said. She came up from the back seat and was yelling in my ears.



“I can hear you. You don’t need to yell.”



“Can I roll down the windows? It’s too loud.”



“We are almost home.” I told her. “You’ll live. Just take in the fresh air.” 



“Okay.” Marcy silently went back to her seat. 



I looked out my window. The sun was peeking out of the tree tops, leaving the sky in an arrange of pink, red, purple, and blue. If I didn’t have to focus on the road, I would have stared at its beauty for hours. My window faced that direction, anyway. I could always enjoy it later from the comforts of the wheel-



“PETER! LOOK OUT!”



I switched back to the road and braked. The SUV stopped with a jerk. My head almost banged against the wheel. A few moments later, my vision cleared. To my surprised, there was nothing on the road.



“What?” I turned to Marcy. She was furiously unbuckling her seat belt. “Marcy? Why did you scream like that?” I demanded. It was of no use. She wasn’t listening to me. Her slightly pudgy fingers finally hit the red button, unfastening her seatbelt. She then tried to open the door.



“Peter. Let me out.”



“What? Why?”



Marcy wasn’t looking at me. Her eyes were focused on the door handle as she violently shook it. “Peter! Let me out!”



God! What was with her? “No. Tell me why you yelled first.”



“You’ll see! Just let me out!” Her voice was breaking. Oh, gosh. She was going to cry. I hated when she does that. Still, I had to keep my ground. Maybe then she’ll stop whining.



“No, Marcy.” I reached for the gear shift.



“No! Peter! Please! Let me out!” The music of sniffles resonated from the back. I sighed and looked at Marcy. Sure enough, little tear drops were dripping from her green eyes down her freckled cheeks and onto her cream top. God! Why do girls always cry?!



I gave up. “Fine.” I mumbled, pressing the UNLOCK button under the gear shift. “But you still- HEY!”



Marcy was already out the car door and onto the street. What have I done?



“Marcy!” I yelled after her. In a flash, I was on the street too, running after her. “Marcy! Wait a second!”



She continued running. My words were obviously not reaching her. I glanced behind me. It was nearing rush hour, meaning cars could come down any second. I had to get her off the road.



“MARCY!” I screamed at her but she still kept running.

I took use of my track/football legs and stretched them out, making longer strides.



Within seconds, I was right behind her. She was bending over, reaching for something on the ground. I didn’t hesitate to grab her.



“Peter! Put me down!” Marcy yelled. She thrashed around in my arms.



“NO! What the heck is wrong with you?” I gritted through my teeth, struggling to keep hold of her.



“Put. Me. Down!” Marcy started kicking my ribs. Thankfully, I took training seriously this year so her kicks barely hurt.



“Stop it, Marcy!” Of course, she wouldn’t listen.



“Let me go!” Marcy cried. Now, she was really bawling.



“Okay. This was getting out of control.” I finally said.



Marcy still struggled but I tightened my grip as I walked to the side of the road. It took all of my heart and patience not to kick the crap out of her. I knew my other friends would have no problem doing that. They, however, didn’t have two amorous parents at home. If they found that I laid a malicious hand on their precious lovechild, I was done for.



“Marcy.” I said. She still wasn’t listening.



“Marcy.” I repeated. She finally came to her senses and admitted defeat. I felt her body go to shaking as she started silently sobbing. God, I hated when she does that.

I sighed. “Can I put you down now?”



She nodded.



“Will you run away again?”



She shook her head.



“You promise?”



The word “promise” made her look at me. She was a mess. Her jade eyes had turned red and puffy. The soft ginger curls that once prominently showed her innocence was now a jumble of hair. Marcy’s disheveled appearance gave me the last bit of tolerance I needed to talk to her calmly.



I carefully set her down on the grass. My body tensed up in order to move at any time if she made a break for it. However, I soon found I didn’t need to. She obediently stood where I had placed her, still sobbing.



“Okay.” I breathed. “Now tell me again why you decided it would be okay to scare me like that?”



Marcy didn’t answer. Her eyes were fixed on the grass in front of her. It was if she had suddenly grown smaller and more helpless in the matter of minutes.



“Marcy, I’m not mad.” I assured her. “I just want to want to know why you told me to stop the car.”



My little sister wasn’t buying it for some reason.  I almost gave up. Mom told me she was shy. She just hasn’t acquired the necessary communication skills to talk to people, even to her own family. “She will be quiet.” she told me. “Just be patient with her.” Well, Mom. Patience is the one thing that is running out, right now.



“Marcy.” I tried again. There must be something I could do to reach to her as a brother. “Marcy. I promise I’m not mad at you. I just want to know why you’re acting this way.”



My repetition of the word “promise” was the only thing that got through. I quickly made a mental note that it meant a lot to her. For when she heard it, she immediately looked up. Next, she glanced past me and pointed, sniffling.



At first, I couldn’t find what she was pointing at. I seriously thought she was fooling around with me. A second later was when I found it: a dark ball on the road. As I looked closely at it, I recognized what it was.



“A FROG?!” I exclaimed, feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. “You made me stop the car, scaring me half to death, by the way; and chase you around just so you could catch a frog?”  The raising of my voice made Marcy cry even more but I didn’t care. All the patience I had was sucked away. Now, I was fuming mad. Sorry, Mom.



I picked her up, threw her over my shoulder, and began walking back to the car.



“You were about to run it over!” She protested.



“Well. It shouldn’t have been on the road.” I retorted.



“You want to run it over?” she yelled in horror.



“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.” I quoted. Now I knew how the guy in Gone With the Wind felt like.



Marcy began more violent as she discovered that I was perfectly fine with killing a poor creature. She soon went to hitting my face.



“Marcy! Stop it!”



“No! You can’t do this! What if Mom finds out?”



I stopped. “What?”



She knew she had found the escape route and decided to go for it. “What if she finds out that you ran over a frog at full speed? How will you explain the stains?”



I paused. My devious little sister had a point. This could get messy.



“Fine.” I said. “We’ll save the stupid frog.”



I walked the last feet to the car before putting Marcy down in the backseat; where she belonged. “Now, don’t move.” I warned. She nodded. She also didn’t move when I put the seatbelt on and closed the car door. I walked to the truck and opened it.



“A box.” She said. “Put it in a box.”



“Why? You want to keep it?” I asked sarcastically. No response. “Really? You really want to take a frog home? You know how Mom feels about pets.”



“You also know how Mom feels about me being lonely and you running over poor creatures.” 



God. Who would have known that there was a devil hiding in my innocent little sister? I could already see how my life was going to turn out. Luckily I was off to college in a year. Till then, I had to deal with her blackmail. Well plaid little sis. Well plaid.



“Whatever.” I emptied out a shoebox. That should do the trick.



“Let me help you!” she yelled from inside the car.



“No way.” I said, locking it with the car keys. Payback is served.



A few moments later, I was in front of the frog. How was I going to get this guy into the

box? I was never an animal lover and this was the last thing I wanted to do.



“Come on!” I muttered to myself. “Be a man! You can do this!” I was on both the football team and the track team. I have been through worse. Just put the damn frog in the damn box! 



I was saved by something rang from my pocket. It was my friend. I picked up the call before the frog got scared and hopped away.



“Hello?”



“Yo, dude!” It was my friend Michael. “Where are you? I’ve started the game without you.”



Crap! I forgot! We were supposed to play this online game together. “I’m sorry, dude. My sister is being weird.”



“Well, hurry up! I’m dying here, man.” The sound effects verified what he was saying.



“Okay. Okay. I’m on my way, dude. Hey, wait a minute. Michael?”



“Yeah?”



“Um. I know this is going to sound weird but….. how do you get a frog into a shoebox?”



I heard the game being paused. The worst part was the silence afterward.



“Yo, dog. You for real?”



“Yeah-“



“Did you really just ask me how do you put a frog in a shoebox?”



“Yeah. I did. My sister is blackmailing me into doing this, so don’t make a big deal.”



“Your little sister? The quiet five year old?”



“Yes, Michael! The innocent little girl I unfortunately call my sister. Just answer the

freaking question!”



“Okay. Okay. Just pick it up.”



“What?”



“Pick it up.”



“Pick it up?”



“Yeah, dude. What, you scared?”



“No! I just never have done this before. That’s all.”



“Okay. Well. Pick it up and put it in the box. But lightly!”



I looked at the frog. It was calmly breathing. I sighed. Well, here goes nothing.



Every part of my body wanted to yell like a girl as I picked it up. It was small and a bit slimly. The fascinating thing about it was that it didn’t freak out like I was. It didn’t try hopping out of the box either when I put the lid on it.



“That was easy.”



“Dude. You freaked out for nothin’.”



“Shut up! I’ll be there in a few.” I hung up on him and headed for the car.



“Here.” I said, giving Marcy the box once I got in the car. “Happy?”



“Yes. Thank you!” She was bouncing up and down. At least she would shut up now.



“Let’s go home.”



We were a five minutes down the road when we got stopped by a police officer. He was standing on the road, directing traffic.



“Hello, officer.” I said as I rolled down the window. “Is there a problem?”



His face was grim behind his sunglasses. “Yeah. There was a huge pile up a couple of minutes ago. All of the drivers are dead. You should count your blessings, son. If you were here any earlier, you and your sister would have been killed.”



He looked at the back. “What is that you got there, sweetheart?”



“My pet frog. I’m naming him Mr. Froggy!”



“That’s a lovely name. Did you just buy him?”



“No. We found him just now on the road. We saved him.”



“Well. How nice of you. Drive safely, you two.”



“Bye!” Marcy called out.



We drove around the accident. The man wasn’t joking. It was a three car pileup and one was on fire. A couple of firefighters were working on containing it.



I was never religious or superstitious. I also don’t know whether this was a coincidence or a miracle, but what I do know is that I’ll never forget the day I met Mr. Froggy. The day a frog saved our lives. 


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