Episode 3: A Wild Animal

Fester & Myron are brothers. And -- I almost forgot to tell you! -- they are frogs. 

Fester is older, and you could say, the wiser of the two. But he is a little bad-tempered. At times. Is he an outright grouch? No, I wouldn't go that far. Yet it is too often true that Fester festers. What can you do? He is also grumpy, sometimes.

Myron is the minor, of the two. One is tempted to say that he is also minor in other ways, but that is not a thing one should say! Let us confine ourselves to saying, just between us, and in a nice way, that he is gullible. As you will see. Sweet, gullible Myron. Oh did I forget sensitive? He is sensitive.

This picture is only of Fester. Sometimes, you see, Myron is a little shy. But if you look very closely, you can see where Myron has just been, swimming silently beneath. 

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You might think that the pond, the pond which Fester & Myron call their home, is quite unremarkable. But you must not think such thoughts! For being the home of Fester & Myron is no small thing, in the great scheme of things. Not least for you, Beloved Reader, and also, of course, not for Fester & Myron. 

If you were to look down upon the pond, as at a map, you would see that it is kidney-shaped, the size and shape of one of those private swimming pools that many mildly posh people in Arizona or Southern California have in their backyards. True, to say it is a pond could give you the wrong idea. In fact, you could almost say that it is not a pond. For strictly speaking, it is a mere widening of a tiny stream, a stream that flows into it at one end, and flows out of it at the other. But the general feel of it is that of a pond, ok? That is why, in the end, it is called a pond. 

It is not without trees and bushes growing at its edges, arranged just so, and some lily-pads on its surface. You could even say that it is a pretty little pond.

It was towards the end of the day, I think around six o'clock, even if clocks are quite unknown to frogs (I mean, what need would frogs have of clocks? Or watches, for that matter). Fester & Myron had just finished their evening eats. They are, rather lazily it has to be said, swimming from one end of the pond to the other, then swimming from the other end to the one. And so on. They often do this. Don't ask for the reason. It just feels right and good, for Fester & Myron, ok?

Myron then tried to begin what he hoped would be a session of play with Fester, or at least to converse with him (truth be told, he's always hoping to get his brother involved in some such way): 

"Fester?"

Fester does not reply. The two of them climbed onto adjacent lily-pads.

Myron tried again: "Fester?" 

Fester remains silent.

"Fester!"   

"Yes, Myron," Fester at last responds. "What is it?"

"Wanna like, play?" 

"Play what?" 

"Um ... A game!"

"What game?"  

"Um ... I thinked you knowed some games." 

"Hmm...  Oh all right, Myron. We could play Marco Polo, I suppose." 

"Great! Um ... How do we play?"

"Well, you start in the water," explained Fester. "I close my eyes, count to ten, and then when I reach ten, I try to find you, saying 'Marco' and you answer 'Polo' unless you're underwater. You can move around. I never open my eyes. If I find you then I win and then we switch roles."  

(Myron is very pleased, at Fester suddenly showing himself so agreeable!) "Wow, Fester! Um ... Tell me again how to play."

Now knowing Fester (as you do!), you'd expect him to be impatient at this, but his tummy is pleasingly full. "Oh dear Myron! Now listen carefully. See, I close my eyes, and ..."

But just then, making a very distinctive splishing and splashing, two bona fide ducks, a male and a female, come in to land, right in front of the two lily-pads, skittering on the surface of the pond in the way they do, before coming to rest. Except the landing was not on land but on water. Do you see? It's hard to describe. It's just like they were airplanes landing, except of course it was not land but water, and they were not airplanes. They were ducks. 

The Female Duck (dressed modestly in brown) addressed the Male Duck (dressed immodestly in his ducky best): 

"Right! Now you check the bottom for weeds, especially duck-weed, and not without tasting any that you find, while I inspect the shore! Quickly now! We haven't got all day! Chop-chop!"

The Male Duck replied without delay with "Righto!", and plunged his beak right to the bottom of the pond. Although perhaps that gives the wrong impression, since the pond was quite shallow; indeed you could still see the back end of the Male Duck, pointing straight up, waggling his feet in the air, to and fro. 

Just then the Female Duck did a double-take, for only now does she see Fester & Myron. "Ah, excuse us!", said the Female Duck. "How do you do? We're here on ducky duty! Lucky-Duck-Patrol, I like to say! This pond I believe is Number 203. Just checking that everything is in order! It won't take long." 

By the way, I'm afraid I don't know the ducks' names. And in case you haven't thought of this, the Female Duck says all this in her duck voice. I don't know how to render it exactly. Perhaps if you made a 'quack-quack-quack' sound -- performing it very fast -- at the same time as saying the words, you could approximate it. You may know Daffy Duck. He is not a real duck, of course, only a cartoon-duck, and doesn't talk fast enough. But he will give you the idea. Try it!

I'll wait for you to try speaking like a duck ...

[END!]

Thus to resume. Fester replied to the Female Duck with "I see." (For his part, Myron would ask a question -- What do you think the question was?  -- but he's feeling a little bashful). 

The Male Duck rejoined the group, now right-side-up.

"Oh, just while I have your attention!", continued the Female Duck. "We are instructed to take notes of any wildlife. Have you seen any wild animals? Wild herons, perhaps? Not all of them are wild, of course, but most are. Always alone, they fish near the bank, not with fishing poles -- of course! -- but with their long, narrow beaks, standing still, waiting patiently for passing fishes." 

Fester answered "Well, no, but ..."

The suddenly -- quite out of character -- Myron interjected, "Fester!" Myron was staring intently at the vegetation just behind Fester's lily-pad. 

"Just a minute, Myron, can't you see I'm talking to the duck?" 

"But Fester!" (Myron was insistent!)

And just then, Myron's lily-pad is disturbed! The disturbance was not a violent one; not really a splash was produced, but something just short of a splash. But what is it? ... Why ... it is a turtle! A turtle has inserted himself into the burgeoning group now convened! Five animals! He is a small turtle, about Fester's size. And I scarcely have to say, he really means no harm (can you imagine a small turtle meaning harm? Ha ha! No, I thought you couldn't).

"Well I'll be! A turtle!", exclaimed Fester.

Myron said excitedly, "A turtle? So that's a turtle! What's he doin'?"

The interest of the Female Duck is piqued! "Why, is it a wild turtle?" She readied her pencil along with the book which she used for taking notes. 

But the Male Duck was suddenly miffed! "Hey! Goldang it," he said, "he's vacuuming up all the duckweed!" 

I should stop to insert a word just between us, just to make sure we're on the same page. From the far side of the pond, you see, all you would hear is quack-quack-quack and ribbet-ribbet-ribbet (imagine these going on at the same time). To be sure, you'd know that something is happening, but no more. But as it is, Beloved Reader, you know precisely what is going on, since you know what they're saying, and make no bones about it! Is everything quite clear?

The Turtle now says, between bites, and not in a particularly polite manner, "Excuse me!", as he busily bites off the duckweed right next to Myron. In fact, he seems a bit reckless and frantic, what with his four legs swimming, and his neck and mouth working overtime. Chomp-chomp-chomp!

"Ow!", said Myron. "I mean ... almost ow." . 

"Yeah, careful there, Mr. Turtle!", said Fester. 

(The only sound now emitted from the Turtle was "Miam miam miam.")

The Female Duck said, with authority, "Yes careful, Mr. Turtle! We don't want me to have to file a report on this little incident, do you?"

But the Turtle went on as before, "miam miam miam -- hiccup -- miam miam miam."

The Male Duck joined in: "Now listen here, Mr. Turtle! I ..."

But now, quite suddenly, the turtle disappeared, swimming away underwater.

"Where is he?" asked Fester. " ... Ah!... He's ... he's gone." 

"Just as well!,  declared the Female Duck. "What bad manners! A wild turtle indeed! Well, our work here, at any rate, is done." She turned to the Male Duck. "Come along then! Time is short! To the next pond!"

"Righto!" responded the Male Duck. "Check! Roger!" 

"Goodbye!", simultaneously said both Fester and Myron. 

To a great fluttering and flapping, a sound that only ducks can make, the two ducks bid the two frogs adieu, and flew away.

Fester and Myron sat in silence for a while. (By now, you know that they are very good at doing this, sometimes for long periods!). The occasional fly buzzed past. A bubble formed slowly on the end of Myron's nose, between his nostrils, or where the end of his nose would be -- if he had a nose -- going from non-popping to popping when it grew too big. Then the same thing happened at the same place on Fester's head. The pops were silent, mind! But still it seems right to speak them as popping.

But at length, who should break the silence? Yes, very good! It was dear sweet Myron! "Fester?", he began.

"Yes?",  Fester answered.

"Do you think ... do you think it really was ... a wild turtle?" 

Fester thought for a moment. "You know, Myron, I think it was a wild turtle. I mean, going by the way he behaved."

" ... hmm ..."

Clearly, there was something bothering Myron. Moments passed.

At length, Myron resumed: "Fester?" 

"Yes, Myron?" 

"We're not ... we're not wild frogs, are we?"

"Myron! Whatever put such an idea in your head? No, we're not wild frogs. We're tame frogs. Civilised frogs." 

Myron was relieved! "Oh. That's good. That's really good." 

The sun was now going down.

Bubbles form again; I won't describe them because you know how it works from last time. 

Fester made a sound: "Ribbet."

Then Myron: "Ribbet." 

Then Fester: "Ribbet ... Ribbet."

And Myron: "Ribbet ... Ribbet."

Fester: "Ribbet ... Ribbet ... Ribbet."

Myron: "Ribbet ... Ribbet ... Ribbet."

Fester and Myron:  "Ribbet ... Ribbet ... Ribbet ... Ribbet ... Ribbet ... Ribbet ..."

Exuent. 

C Schulz and Beckett

magpies? nah .. 

[a kind of loud splash is heard, coming from the end of the pond. Now the resulting waves cause the little wooden boat on which they're sitting to bob up and down. A lot.] ... what's that? 

a turtle -- speaks turtle, not frog

Otters? Too obvious...

moments change from moment to moment (CB)