The Frog Who Knew the Way Home

Leni Moss knew the frog was Kit because it rolled its eyes exactly like Kit.

She had found it sitting on top of his backpack beside the pond.

"Kit?" she whispered.

The frog rolled its eyes.

"Oh dear."

"Rrrup," said the frog.

Kit's backpack was muddy.

One shoe lay beside it.

His red scarf was tangled around a cattail.

And Kit himself was nowhere to be seen.

Unless, of course, he was the frog.

Leni crouched.

"Hop twice if you're Kit."

Hop.

Hop.

Leni sat down very suddenly.

"How did this happen?"

Kit puffed out his throat.

"Rrrup."

"Right. Frog."

Leni opened the backpack.

Inside she found an apple, a pencil, two smooth stones, a library book, and a folded piece of paper.

Across the paper, in Kit's handwriting, were four words:

FOLLOW WHERE I FORGOT.

Leni read it twice.

"You wrote this?"

Kit hopped onto the note.

Then he turned toward Adventure Trail.

"You want me to follow you?"

Hop.

Leni put Kit carefully into the front pocket of the backpack, leaving his head poking out.

"If you know where we're going, blink."

Kit blinked.

"That is not especially reassuring."

They started along the trail.

At the first fork, Leni stopped.

One path led toward the berry bushes.

The other crossed a little wooden bridge.

Kit wriggled wildly.

"Bridge?"

Hop.

On the far side, they found three muddy footprints.

They were Kit's.

Beside them was a patch of flattened moss.

And in the moss lay a tiny silver bell.

Leni picked it up.

It made no sound.

Kit stared at it.

Then he covered his face with both front feet.

"You remember something."

Kit gave a miserable croak.

They continued.

Farther along the trail stood an old stump covered in mushrooms.

Kit leapt from the backpack and landed beside it.

Under one mushroom was another note.

Kit's handwriting again.

IF I DON'T LISTEN, REMIND ME.

Leni looked at him.

"Listen to what?"

Kit tilted his head.

For a moment there was only wind in the leaves.

Then Leni heard it.

Plink.

Plink-plink.

A faint sound like raindrops tapping glass.

The silent silver bell in her hand trembled.

Kit hopped toward the sound.

They followed it off the main trail to a small clearing Leni had never noticed before.

In the centre stood a shallow pool surrounded by ferns.

Dozens of frogs sat around its edge.

None of them moved.

None of them croaked.

They simply watched.

Kit climbed onto a stone.

Plink.

The silver bell trembled again.

Suddenly Kit slapped both front feet over his eyes.

And Leni understood something important.

"You were here last night, weren't you?"

Kit nodded.

"You found the bell."

Another nod.

"And somebody told you not to ring it."

Kit sank lower.

Leni stared at the silent bell.

"But you did."

Kit became the saddest-looking frog in the entire clearing.

A ripple crossed the pool.

From beneath a broad lily pad emerged a frog no larger than Leni's palm.

It wore a crown made from three tiny leaves.

Leni waited.

The crowned frog said, "He rang it seven times."

Leni nearly dropped the bell.

"You can talk!"

"So can he," said the crowned frog. "Usually."

Kit croaked indignantly.

The crowned frog explained.

The silver bell belonged to the pool.

It was used only once each autumn, when the frogs began their long sleep beneath the mud.

Its sound told every frog in the cove that the pond was safe and the season had turned.

Kit had discovered the bell the evening before.

A wooden marker beside it had clearly said:

PLEASE DO NOT RING.

Kit had rung it.

Seven times.

"I thought something exciting would happen," Kit croaked suddenly.

Leni stared at him.

"You can talk now!"

"Only here," said Kit. "And I am very sorry."

The crowned frog nodded.

"The pool did not turn him into a frog as punishment."

Kit blinked.

"It didn't?"

"No. The bell heard someone who would not listen. So it gave him better ears."

Leni looked at Kit's frog head.

"That is extremely specific magic."

"Old magic usually is," said the crowned frog.

To become himself again, Kit did not need a potion.

He did not need a magic feather.

He did not even need to be kissed, which Kit said was a tremendous relief.

He had to put back what he had disturbed.

But first, he had to listen.

Everyone became quiet.

At first Kit heard nothing.

Then his frog ears twitched.

"Water under the stones," he whispered.

"Wind in the reeds."

"A woodpecker far away."

Then he heard something else.

"Frogs."

From beyond the clearing came tiny answering calls.

One from the pond.

One from the ditch beside the lane.

One from the wet meadow.

Kit listened until he could tell where each call came from.

The crowned frog pushed the silver bell toward him.

"Now you know when to ring."

Kit waited.

And waited.

Leni had never seen him wait so long for anything.

At last the evening air cooled.

The frogs around the pool began slipping quietly into the water.

Kit looked at the crowned frog.

The frog nodded.

Kit rang the bell once.

Plink.

Across the clearing came an answering chorus.

Croak. Chirrup. Rrrup.

The sound travelled outward through the trees.

The bell flashed silver.

Kit's frog shape stretched upward.

His back legs became knees.

His front feet became hands.

And suddenly Kit was sitting in the moss wearing one shoe.

Leni laughed so hard she had to lean against a tree.

Kit looked at his hands.

Then his feet.

"I am never ignoring a sign again."

The crowned frog raised one tiny eyebrow.

Kit corrected himself.

"I am going to try very hard never to ignore a sign again."

That was better.

Before they left, Kit returned the bell to its place beside the pool.

He straightened the little wooden marker.

Then he added something beneath PLEASE DO NOT RING.

SERIOUSLY. IT MEANS YOU.

Leni grinned.

On the walk home, Kit found his missing shoe beside the bridge.

He found his scarf in the cattails.

And he remembered why he had written the notes.

Even while the magic was changing him, some part of him had known he might forget.

So he had left himself a trail.

At the pond, Leni handed him the first note.

FOLLOW WHERE I FORGOT.

Kit folded it carefully and put it in his pocket.

"Keeping it?" she asked.

"Definitely."

"To remember being a frog?"

Kit shook his head.

"To remember that listening is sometimes the part of an adventure that tells you where to go next."

From somewhere along Adventure Trail came one tiny sound.

Plink.

Kit stopped.

Leni stopped.

They listened.

Then they walked home.