The Story Shell: A Tale of Friendship Bog (5 page)

Leeper seemed to take a long time crawling up the stick.

Splashing sounds came from outside, and Pibbin began to wonder about BOSS.

He climbed up the wall nearest to Leeper and held onto the edge of a branch. He listened. The beaver kits were shouting to each other.

Footsteps thumped. Mrs. Beaver?

She must be standing near the water, because her voice sounded close by. “BOSS?”

No answer.

“BOSS!”

“What?” BOSS sounded close by, too.

“Take them up to those lily pads,” she said. “Give them a diving lesson.”

“But Ma! It’s starting to rain.”

“It won’t hurt you a bit. Go on.”

Leeper was still hanging onto the stick, but he looked as if he might fall off.

No more sounds came from Mrs. Beaver. Was she still watching the beaver kits?

Finally, her heavy footsteps went past. They stopped.

“Look how he left that lid,” she said, and she pushed it back into place.

Pibbin stayed on his branch and waited.

When he was sure she had gone, he climbed back up to the lid. He pushed and pushed until he had made a space that Leeper would fit through.

“Wait a second,” he whispered to Leeper. “I’ll go up above and give you a hand.”

Good thing it was dark in the lodge, or Mrs. Beaver would see him poke his head out.

He reached down for Leeper.

His friend was panting, and he moved like a very old frog, but finally he crept out onto the lid.

“That’s it!” Pibbin said. “Now, can you jump down?”

“Give me a minute,” Leeper said, and he closed his eyes.

But this was no time for a nap.

“We’re going,” Pibbin said. “Soon as we’re down, it’s just a couple of hops to the water. Let the river carry you away from the lodge.”

Rain was still falling. It felt like a soft, cool hand on Pibbin’s face as they floated down the river. Free at last!

Well, maybe.

Anybody could see them, swimming along on top of the water.

They had to find a place to hide.

He glanced ahead. How about under those branches hanging down from the bank?

Leeper hadn’t said anything for a long time, but he crawled slowly out of the water.

Pibbin let him rest for a few minutes, and then he said, “Come on. Let’s go a little more.”

Leeper nodded, and he pulled himself through the grass. One of his back legs was dragging.

They came to a marshy spot with small pools of water and plenty of thick grass. Nearby was a clump of blueberry bushes, and Pibbin hopped toward them.

Leeper limped behind him, moving more and more slowly. He stopped at the first bush and sank to the ground under its low branches.

Pibbin gave him a dried-beetle bar, and after he’d eaten it, Leeper looked more alive.

“Thank you,” he said. “The dog was bad, but that kid almost killed me. He kept calling me his little friend.”

“Yes. He likes frogs way too much.”

Pibbin snapped up a mosquito and stretched out beside Leeper. “Tell me about the dog.”

“Well, from Wild Bog, I came back up the Toop—the long way. I was worn out, for sure.”

Pibbin nodded. “What a trip!”

“So, I’m taking a nice little nap,” Leeper said. “And this black dog comes poking along the river. I slide down into the grass to keep out of his way, and he steps on me!”

“Ouch!” Pibbin said.

“Next thing I know, he’s sniffing and pawing at me. Then he grabs me in his mouth and tosses me up and down. Crazy. Finally I make a good jump and dive into the water. He follows me!”

“Water dogs are the worst,” Pibbin said.

Leeper sat up and looked out at the marsh, as if he thought the dog might still be there, waiting for him.

Nothing moved, except the grass swaying in the wind. The rain made quiet dripping sounds all around them.

“So.” Leeper seemed to relax. “So, my leg feels like it’s broken or something. I know I can’t swim faster than the dog. I see this old beaver lodge, and I duck into it. What does that dog do? He climbs on top and starts digging.”

Leeper shook his head. “I can hardly move, so I just wait. After a while, he gives up and goes away. I fall asleep.”

He rubbed the side of his leg. “Next thing I know, big ol’ Mama Beaver is crawling into the lodge. She’s saying how she’s going to clean it all up.”

Leeper sighed. “Beaver kid sees me. I don’t like the look of him so I try to jump, and I can’t. He grabs me in that huge paw of his. ‘Hey!’ he says. ‘Here’s a frog. His spots are way cool.’ ”

Leeper shivered. “He decides he’s going to give me a nice little house. It’s a cage.”

“With a lock,” Pibbin said.

Leeper leaned back and closed his eyes. “How did you run into him, anyway?”

Pibbin told him about the missing shell, and Leeper’s eyes opened wide. “That’s terrible!”

“I sure wasted a bunch of time with that kid.” Pibbin glanced at the sky. “Seems like it’s clearing up.”

Slowly he said, “I hate to leave you alone. That leg of yours looks pretty bad.”

Leeper grinned at him. “You’re going to talk to Zip, aren’t you?”

“Guess so.”

“I’ll be okay,” Leeper said. “I’ve got plenty of brothers around here. They’ll help me. Maybe I’ll even make it to the party tonight.”

“Then I guess I’d better get going,” Pibbin said. He could almost feel Zip’s sharp teeth.

He picked up his backpack and put it on.

Forget about the teeth. What kind of party would it be without the happy-birthday story?

“You’ll do great,” Leeper said. “I know you’ll find that shell.”

Pibbin hopped along the shore of Friendship Bog and tried not to worry.

Chewink had just flown past to say that he’d seen the shell on Zip’s front porch.

So she had it for sure.

What was he going to say to her?

Excuse me, but you stole Gaffer’s shell.

And then what?

Maybe squirrels didn’t eat frogs, but one snap of those teeth, and he’d be in worse shape than Leeper.

“Oh, my!” a voice said.

He jumped high and landed in a bush.

A squirrel with a feathery red tail put down the bag she was carrying and peered at him.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you,” she said. “The grass is so green, you know, and you are too, and I had this bag of books I was thinking about.”

She smiled, but it was a twitchy sort of smile. “My friend Sheera sent them for Emma. That’s my sweet little girl, you know, and she loves to read, and she’s been sick. Sheera is so kind. And I’m really sorry I almost stepped on you. But you’re so green, which is fine, of course, and I was thinking about Emma. What’s your name?”

He felt as if he were drowning in words and could hardly squeak. “Pibbin.”

“Really! You’re one of the frogs who went all the way to Wild Bog and got Sweetberry leaves for Sheera. She told me all about it. I think that’s just wonderful.”

Zip took a quick breath. “Now, tell me, what brings you to this part of the bog? I’m fixing up my house. It’s in a grand old maple tree. I just adore old trees. Have you seen it?”

She smiled again, and all Pibbin could see was her sharp front teeth.

“Oh!” she said. “I really have to hurry along because Emma gets so lonely.”

She tilted her head to look at him. “But wait! Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Shell,” he said.

He hopped higher in the bush, but she still towered over him.

“Shell.” He said it again because she looked puzzled.

He tried to sound stern. “Gaffer the Gray wants his shell back. Right away.”

Zip flicked her tail. “What? Why are you telling me this?”

“Someone saw you.”

“Oh.”

“He needs it,” Pibbin said.

“For his party?”

“Yes.”

“Is he going to tell another of his wonderful stories?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, my! I am so sorry.” She turned. “I’ll go and get it for you.”

“No,” Pibbin said. “I think you should be the one to take it back.”

She didn’t answer.

She started slowly down the path, and he hopped behind her.

She glanced back. “You must think I’m a terrible person, but really, I didn’t steal it. I found it in the grass.”

He didn’t say anything because he had to take longer and longer jumps to keep up with her.

She spun around to face him.

“My little girl has been sick for a long time. I thought I could get some stories for her out of the shell, and then she would feel better.”

Zip flicked her tail again. “But I couldn’t hear anything in it except the wind. Something must be broken inside. It doesn’t work anymore.”

She whirled away from him and started off again. “I’ll show you.”

Pibbin hopped as fast as he could. She had some odd ideas, but maybe he’d better take a look at it. Maybe it was the wrong shell.

The path followed the curving shore of the bog to where a maple tree leaned over the water. It looked as if it would have room for a hundred squirrels.

Zip stopped to gaze up at the tree.

“Isn’t it beautiful? I just love the view. And the waterfront is most enjoyable.”