The Frog at the Top of Frosty Mountain

A Conversation With Mr. Bullfrog

Allan floated through the darkness faster than the speed of light. What was going on? He didn't know, he just knew he was going fast. Too fast. He gripped a sterring wheel tight as he saw a flash of light out of the corner of his eye. The person in the seat beside him screamed, and Allan was thrown out of this terrible memory and back into the darkness.

The darkness. Alone. Or was he?

Allan swam through it all slowly now. He heard voices, voices of the past. He was back in that place he had found when he was under the witch's trance. The place he had discovered, or rediscovered? He couldn't tell. It felt so new yet so familiar at the same time. He got a grip of himself, floated to a stop and called out.

"Hello!" He said. He heard his own voice echo through his head, but there was no answer. The voices of the past, ghosts, kept speaking the lines they were predermined to say forever. The past was already written, nothing could change it. So why did it keep speaking to him?

"Allan." Said the voice of Mr. Bullfrog.

"Where are you?" Allan asked. "I can't see you."

"I'm here. I've decided to take on the appearence in which other people see me."

"What do you mean?"

"There's no time to explain." The disembodied voice said firmly. "Right now, you are sinking to the bottom of the river, and I need you to wake up before you drown."

"Why can't I wake up on my own?" 

"Because you don't want to."

"That's crazy! Of course I want to wake up. I want to live!"

Suddenly, out of the darkness, Mr. Bullfrog appeared. He was sitting on an invisible rock, staring at Allan with wise, patient eyes.

"Part of you doesn't." Mr. Bullfrog said calmly.

"Well, this part wants to live!" Allan said, pointing to himself.

"I'm quite aware. Mr. Bullfrog smiled. "That's why I'm helping you to convince that other part of you. To convince him, yourself, you must understand why that part of you doesn't want to be saved. Do you remember the Asian man? The one consumed by acid?"

Allan remembered the awful scene: the elderly man disppearing under a flood of acid, only for his bones to float up to the surface. He could remember the guilt, most of all. The terrible feeling that he could have done something but didn't.

"I remember." Allan said sadlly.

"Good. Do you remember the beaver?" Mr. Bullfrog asked.

The old beaver. Of course Allan remembered. It had just happened! The beaver had fallen into the river and disolved in the water. Allan had fallen in as well and didn't dissolve. Why? And how? These were questions that kept rushing back and forth inside his head. He could hear his own voice asking, mixed in with voices of the past.

"I remember." Allan answered, feeling even more miserable.

"Very good. Now pay attention, because I need you to focus on this next question. Do you remember the car crash?"

"What car crash?"

Mr. Bullfrog shook his head. "This won't do. You must dig. Dig! It's in there somewhere, you just need to find it. Once you find it, you'll be able to wake up."

"I don't remember any car crash..."

"Listen!" Mr. Bullfrog croaked. "Listen to the voices. Find it, find the voice you chose to forget."

Allan closed his eyes and focused on the voices. He looked for the ones that sounded desperate and afraid, and found the voice of an old man.

"Allan, for God's sake, watch out!" The voice pleaded. Allan heard the sound of a truck horn, and then silence.

"A car crash..." Allan muttered to himself.

"Yes..." Mr. Bullfrog said. "You've found it, haven't you?"

"Yes. But I don't remember this happening to me. Was I the one driving the car?"

"A question for a different time." Mr. Bullfrog answered. "First, you should get some air. Then, come meet me on the mountain."

Suddenly, the darkness was gone. Allan found himself at the bottom of the river, the surface only a couple of feet above him. He swam upwards and surfaced.