“Hey, noodle brain.” A webbed foot poked out of the satchel and into Hayes’ jean-clad leg. “Lemme out.”
“What are you going to do, ride on my shoulder?” Hayes rolled his eyes and reached for a half gallon of milk. “Er – ‘scuse me, ma’am, my apologies. I don’t think I heard you behind me over my phone call.”
Geo snickered from inside his satchel, a beady eye gleaming through a gap in soft brown leather and olive canvas. “Like anyone talks on the phone anymore. Dork.”
“Shut it,” the human warned softly, hoping the beeps of the self-checkout station covered his words.
“Fine,” grumbled his bag. “But you worry too much. Just tell them I’m an emotional support frog.”
Hayes pulled his height to an abrupt start, flashing an apologetic smile to an angry woman in slippers and curlers barely visible over the top of a cart overflowing with cat food. He settled for a snort while he waited for an opening.
“You know it’s true,” Geo taunted. “Can’t do this without my skills.”
Hayes didn’t respond until they were safely in his truck and Geo was balanced atop an 18-pack of eggs and shaking off the condensation beaded on the plastic sides of the two percent.
“Still not sure we should do this at all.” He fiddled with the truck’s dial, finding only static before shutting the radio off, then flipped his
“You signed a contract with the Marble Witch,” Geo pointed out. He hopped onto the windshield and looked down at his companion. “On the plus side, you get me. On the other hand, you also get her. And you don’t want to cross her.”
Hayes made an indeterminant brrrrt noise and drove for several miles on autopilot. It wasn’t until he spun the wheel to head for his little white house that he spoke. “Yeah. Well. One of those I can’t avoid. Explain to me what benefit you are?”
“Frog karaoke,” Geo responded promptly. “Come to the backyard tonight, and I’ll show you my shtick. The backup dancers only croak, but you’ll see a bunch of frogs enjoying the downpour.”
He parked the truck and reached for his groceries. “What are you, an 1950s cartoon? Gonna wear a bow tie?”
Geo gave something that he could only interpret as the amphibian version of a shrug. “When else are you going to see frogs dance? This is an honor, human.” The brashness in his voice faded. “If I could do something to make you effectively feel better, I wouldn’t be trapped in this form.”
***
This week, a belated return to the Marble Witch thanks to Nother Mike’s froggy prompt – and we traded punches with catfish to boot.
