Frog Power Read online

  Frog Power

  Copyright © 1995

  Beverly Lewis

  Cover illustration by Paul Turnbaugh.

  Story illustrations by Barbara Birch.

  Ebook edition created 2012

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  Published by Bethany House Publishers

  11400 Hampshire Avenue South

  Bloomington, Minnesota 55438

  www.bethanyhouse.com

  Bethany House Publishers is a division of

  Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.

  www.bakerpublishinggroup.com

  eISBN 978-1-4412-6068-0

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

  To

  Shanna Dreuth,

  who likes slimy things.

  Once she caught twelve frogs

  and carried them in her pockets all day.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  About the Author

  Other Books by Author

  Back Cover

  ONE

  Stacy Henry was late for school. It was the first time all year. But Stacy couldn’t help it.

  Today was Pet Day for Miss Hershey’s third-grade class. And something slimy and green was coming to Blossom Hill School. Jason Birchall said so.

  Stacy tiptoed down the hall carrying her cockapoo puppy. She stopped at the classroom door and peeked inside. Her classmates were showing off their pets.

  Abby Hunter, Stacy’s best friend, was cuddling Snow White, a fluffy white dog. Shawn Hunter, Abby’s adopted Korean brother, was tickling Snow White’s ears.

  Stacy spotted Dunkum in the corner of the room. His real name was Edward Mifflin, but no one called him that. He was Dunkum, the tallest and the best basketball player in school.

  Dunkum lifted Blinkee, his fat gray rabbit, out of the cage. He set her on his desk. Stepping back, he clapped his hands two times. Blinkee sat up on her haunches and wiggled her pink little nose. She was the cutest rabbit Stacy had ever seen.

  Just then, a low croaking sound came from the middle of the classroom. Blinkee pricked up her long bunny ears.

  Stacy shivered. She hid behind the classroom door. The croaking sound continued. The slimy green nightmare is here! Jason Birchall’s bullfrog is the worst creature God ever made, she decided.

  Stacy sneaked around the door and stared across the room. A glass aquarium sat on the desk behind hers. Inches from her desk was Jason’s bullfrog. On top of its head, two eyes bulged out.

  Stacy leaned against the classroom door, wishing she could go home. She put Sunday Funnies, her cockapoo, on the floor. He strained on his leash.

  Abby and Shawn ran to Jason’s desk to see the noisy bullfrog. Dunkum carried his rabbit over for a look. Soon, most of the class had gathered around the ten-gallon glass tank.

  But not Stacy. She took a deep breath and crept to Miss Hershey’s desk. Sunday Funnies followed on his leash.

  The teacher smiled at her. “You’re a little late today.” She petted Sunday Funnies’ head.

  “I almost didn’t come,” Stacy blurted out.

  Her teacher frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that, Stacy. Are you feeling all right?”

  “I’m not sick or anything.” Stacy glanced over her shoulder. Icksville! Why did Miss Hershey have to change the desks around yesterday?

  “Stacy? Is something wrong?” the teacher asked.

  Stacy turned around slowly. “I, uh . . . no, I’m fine, thanks.” Stacy inched toward her desk, past Eric Hagel.

  Eric’s hamster was nibbling on a piece of carrot inside his cage.

  “Nice hamster,” Stacy said. She hardly even looked at the hamster. Instead, she stared at Jason’s bullfrog at the end of the row.

  Eric coughed. “Earth to Stacy! Guess what I named my hamster?”

  “I don’t know,” Stacy muttered. She was thinking about a slimy bullfrog named Croaker.

  “Come on, just guess,” Eric insisted.

  “Uh . . . Slimy?” It was a dumb name for a hamster, but Stacy couldn’t get the horrible green bullfrog off her mind.

  “Not even close,” Eric said.

  “Then I give up,” Stacy said flatly. The hamster made her sneeze.

  “This is the smartest hamster in the world,” Eric bragged. “Her name is Fran the Ham. And does she ever ham it up!” He laughed. “Get it—ham it up?”

  “Of course I get it,” Stacy snapped. And she clumped off to her desk wishing, wishing. She wished Jason Birchall would take Croaker home.

  Shawn Hunter rushed over to Stacy’s desk. He grinned. “I rub Sunday Funnies’ neck, yes?”

  Stacy nodded. “He likes you, Shawn. Ever since the day he got hit by a car and you helped him.”

  Shawn’s eyes danced as he stroked the cockapoo.

  Dunkum put his rabbit on the floor beside Sunday Funnies. The rabbit and the cockapoo sniffed each other. Sunday Funnies wagged his curly puff of a tail.

  “I think they like each other,” Dunkum said.

  Stacy petted the rabbit. Her eyes began to water. She sneezed three times.

  Miss Hershey asked everyone to sit down. “We have an exciting day ahead of us, class.” She grinned. Everyone knew Miss Hershey loved animals.

  Stacy grabbed a tissue from inside her desk and blew her nose. Then she put Sunday Funnies in her lap and cuddled him. “It’s a good thing you don’t make me sneeze,” she whispered to him.

  Suddenly, Jason Birchall reached over his desk. He was petting Sunday Funnies’ head.

  Stacy pulled her puppy away.

  Jason frowned. “What’s the matter with you?”

  “Stay away from him,” Stacy said. Gently, she put her puppy on the floor and sat down. She slid her chair close to her desk. Far away from Jason’s creepy bullfrog.

  Her stomach was squished against the desk. But it was better than having frog breath in her hair!

  TWO

  Miss Hershey called roll. Then the kids began to show off their pets.

  Eric Hagel lugged his hamster cage to the front of the room. Kerplop! He set it down on Miss Hershey’s desk. “Meet my hamster, Fran the Ham.”

  The class giggled.

  Eric continued. “Fran likes parade music.” He grinned. “She likes ‘Stars and Stripes Forever.’”

  Miss Hershey sat at her desk. She leaned on her elbows, peering into the hamster cage. “Does Fran do any tricks?” she asked.

  Eric put his hands on his hips. “How many want to see Fran do her amazing routine?”

  Everyone cheered.

  “First, I have to get my tape recorder ready.”

  Jason groaned.

  Turning around, Stacy muttered, “What’s the matter? Isn’t Croaker smart enough to do tricks?”

  Jason shot her his best cross-eyes.

  “Frog eyes,” Stacy whispered.

  Jason made another face.

  Just then, the beat of drums filled the room. Brassy trumpets and trombones joined in.

  Stacy couldn’t believe it. Fran the Ham was running on a little turnwheel. Faster and faster! Fran’s tiny hamster feet were flying.

  “
Now check this out,” Eric told the class. He pushed the stop button on the tape recorder.

  Fran the Ham slowed down. She stopped!

  The kids clapped with delight. Eric carried the hamster cage back to his seat.

  Stacy pulled out a pencil and wrote a note.

  Dear Eric,

  I really do like your hamster. She is very smart. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.

  Your friend,

  Stacy Henry

  Stacy folded the note. She felt good about it. Eric was her neighbor on Blossom Hill Lane—their cul-de-sac. And the Cul-de-sac Kids stick together, no matter what, she remembered. That’s the way it was.

  Stacy stuck the note in her jeans pocket. She would give the note to Eric at recess.

  Miss Hershey called Shawn Hunter next.

  Abby raised her hand. “Shawn and I want to show our dog together. Is that OK?”

  Miss Hershey nodded.

  Shawn led Snow White to the front of the room.

  Abby followed, carrying a bag of doggie treats. “Shawn will introduce our dog,” she said.

  Shawn’s dark eyes shone. “Snow White is shee-zoo puppy,” he said. “Her family go back very long time—to Chinese courts. Long ago this kind of dog was watchdog.”

  Abby took off Snow White’s leash. “Now Snow White will do some tricks for you,” she announced.

  Abby moved her arm in circles without saying a word. Snow White rolled over three times. Abby gave her a treat. Snow White chomped it right down.

  Next Snow White played dead. The class called out her name. Jason hopped out of his seat and tickled Snow White’s ear. The dog didn’t budge an inch!

  At last, Shawn snapped his fingers. Snow White leaped up for another treat.

  The kids clapped loudly.

  Abby and Shawn took their seats. Snow White sat on the floor near Shawn’s desk.

  Miss Hershey checked her record book. “Jason Birchall, you’re next.”

  When Jason stood up, Stacy scooted down in her seat. Far away from the bullfrog behind her.

  The glass cage was too heavy to move. So Jason was going to show off Croaker from his desk.

  Stacy peeked around her chair.

  Whoosh! Jason took off the wood frame. A silly grin stretched across his face. Then he reached inside.

  Stacy shivered as Jason’s hands caught the slimy green bullfrog.

  Icksville! She covered her eyes.

  THREE

  Jason held his frog high. “This is Croaker.” He pointed to the round spots behind the frog’s eyes. “These are Croaker’s ears. He can hear sounds under water.”

  Jason pranced around his desk. Even with his medicine, he was still hyper sometimes. Up and down the row he paced, showing off his bullfrog.

  Some of the kids were brave. They touched Croaker’s skin. When Jason stopped at Abby Hunter’s desk, she stuck her pointer finger out. Then she closed her eyes, wrinkled her nose, and touched him. Her eyes popped open. “Ew!”

  Jason skipped up to Stacy’s desk. “It’s your turn.” He held the frog in front of her face.

  What’s it feel like? Stacy wondered. She stared at the frog. “I pass,” she said, sliding back in her seat.

  Jason grinned. “You sure?”

  “Uh-huh.” Stacy looked into the giant eyes of the bullfrog. She felt sick.

  Quick as a flash, Croaker leaped out of Jason’s hands . . . and into Stacy’s lap!

  “Get it off me!” she screamed. Her fingers bumped against the bullfrog’s skin. “Ick!”

  Before Jason could grab him, Croaker jumped off Stacy’s lap and landed on Dunkum’s desk.

  “I catch! I catch!” Shawn cried in broken English. Letting go of Snow White’s leash, Shawn dashed after Croaker. Then Snow White darted after Shawn, barking loudly.

  Soon . . .

  Sunday Funnies was yipping.

  Fran the Ham was twittering.

  Croaker was croaking.

  Cats were meowing.

  A parrot was screeching.

  But Miss Hershey was silent. She simply sat at her desk and smiled.

  After chasing the frog around the room two more times, Jason caught Croaker. He put him back in the cage and closed the wooden lid. “There,” said Jason. “I think he needs my hyper medicine.”

  Eric laughed. So did the other boys.

  Stacy didn’t think it was funny. She raised her hand. “May I be excused, please?”

  Miss Hershey nodded.

  Stacy dashed out of the classroom and down the hall. It was time to get rid of the froggy feel on her hands.

  The girls’ room was empty. Good, she thought. Filling her hands with liquid soap, Stacy scrubbed and rubbed and scrubbed some more.

  Suddenly, Stacy heard a strange sound. It was coming from the stall behind her. She listened. What on earth? She dried her hands and waited.

  There it was again. It sounded like . . .

  Out from under the door scampered her puppy.

  “Sunday Funnies!” she cried. “What are you doing?”

  The puppy’s head was dripping wet.

  “Oh, you’re thirsty, is that it?” Stacy shook her finger at him. “Toilets are not for drinking.” And she went into the stall to check.

  Thank goodness, the toilet was flushed! Stacy lathered up her hands with soap and washed Sunday Funnies’ head and face.

  Then she held him up to the dryer.

  Minutes later, Miss Hershey came in. “Are you all right, Stacy?”

  Stacy nodded. “Everything’s under control. . . now.”

  Miss Hershey touched Stacy’s shoulder. “Let’s get you back to class. I think you’ll like the story today.”

  Stacy followed Miss Hershey down the hall. She wanted to forget about Jason’s bullfrog. Forever.

  “We’re reading ‘The Frog Prince,’” Miss Hershey said as she opened the classroom door.

  Stacy dragged her feet. She felt worse than ever. It was bad enough having a frog breathe down her neck. Now she had to read about one, too!

  “Super icksville,” she muttered on the way to her desk. Who wants to read THAT fairy tale?

  She looked at the clock. Fifteen minutes till recess. Fifteen minutes too many!

  FOUR

  “Once upon a time . . .”

  Stacy heard the class reading out loud. She skipped ahead to the pictures. An ugly green frog was in a well and a princess was crying. She remembered the beginning of the story.

  “What’s wrong, little Princess?” the frog asked.

  The princess sobbed. “My beautiful gold necklace has fallen into the well.”

  “Dry your tears,” croaked the frog. “I can help. What will you give me if I find it?”

  “Whatever you wish, my dear frog,” said the princess.

  Stacy wanted to choke. Who ever heard of calling a frog my dear?

  Finding her place, Stacy continued to read. The frog was doing a good job of tricking the princess. He wanted to have supper with her and drink from her silver cup!

  The princess wiped her tears and nodded yes.

  “And that’s not all I want,” the frog said.

  The princess looked surprised. “What else?”

  “I want to sleep in your fine house.”

  She looked at the frog. “I know just the place for you. Will you get my golden necklace now?” the princess begged.

  “One more thing.” The frog’s eyes blinked.

  “I want to be friends.”

  Stacy slammed the book shut. This was too much!

  A low croaking sound made her jump. Jason’s bullfrog was at it again.

  Stacy spun around. “Keep your frog quiet!” she whispered.

  Jason frowned. “He’s hungry. Wanna help me catch bugs at recess?”

  Bugs!

  Bullfrogs!

  Frog fairy tales!

  What a horrible day!

  Stacy watched the second hand on the clock. 5. . . . 4. . . . 3. . . . 2. . . . 1. . . . Recess!


  The bell rang and Stacy was the first one outside. She walked Sunday Funnies around the playground on his leash.

  Jason and Eric were digging for ants near the sidewalk. Probably to feed that dumb old frog. Stacy handed Eric the note she’d written. Then she ran to the swings.

  Soon, Abby and her little sister Carly came over. Carly was in first grade. She held the leashes for Snow White and Sunday Funnies while the girls swang.

  Abby leaned back, pulling hard against the swing. “Do you like ‘The Frog Prince’ so far?”

  “It’s OK, I guess,” Stacy said.

  Abby smiled. “I like the ending best.”

  “I haven’t read the ending yet,” Stacy said.

  “Why not?” Abby asked.

  Stacy shook her head. “It gives me the creeps. My dad was reading the story to me the day he left me and my mom.”

  Abby twisted her swing and let it spin.

  Stacy copied her friend and whirled around. She could almost hear her dad’s voice reading out loud to her. She pushed her sneakers against the sand.

  Abby changed the subject. “Let’s dye Easter eggs at my house next week.”

  Stacy didn’t want to think about Easter eggs. Another holiday without her dad.

  Stacy jumped out of the swing. “I know! Let’s do something different this year.”

  “Like what?” Abby asked. She held the leashes for Snow White and Sunday Funnies so Carly could swing.

  “Let’s have an Easter pet parade,” Stacy shouted.

  “Double dabble good idea,” Abby said.

  “Goody!” Carly said. Her golden curls shone in the sunlight.

  “Count the pets in the cul-de-sac,” Stacy said.

  “Let’s see. There’s Snow White and Sunday Funnies,” said Abby.

  “Don’t forget our baby ducks, Quacker and Jack,” Carly said, swinging higher. “One belongs to Jimmy and one is mine.” Jimmy was the younger of Abby and Carly’s two Korean brothers.

  Abby pulled a tablet and pen out of her jeans pocket. “There’s Blinkee, Dunkum’s rabbit, and Dee Dee’s cat, Mister Whiskers. That makes six.”

  “And Eric’s hamster, Fran the Ham,” said Stacy. “That’s seven.”

  “Er-rib-bit!” Carly stopped the swing with her feet. “Don’t forget Jason’s bullfrog.” She giggled and ran to catch up with her friend Dee Dee.