The Frog at the Top of Frosty Mountain

Hill

Allan climbed down the tree and met the nice pigeon at end of the forest. There were only open fields ahead of them now, and he could clearly see the foot of the mountain. 

"Let's pick up the pace." The nice pigeon said, hoping on the ground alongside Allan. "We should climb the mountain before the sun goes down. It would suck to climb around in the dark."

"Why?"

"There are demons on the side of the mountain that come out at night. They aren't as easy to outrun as the forest demons. If a mountain demon sees you, well, it's so long and see you never."

"Did you hear the demon running after me in the forest?" Allan asked.

"I did. I looked for you where I heard all the noise, but you weren't there."

"That's because a witch kidnapped me."

The pigeon stopped in his tracks and looked Allan dead in the eye.

"There aren't any witches in the forest!" The piegon said.

"But I hitched a ride with one!" Allan cried. "She took me to her house in the forest and forced me to get this tattoo."

Allan rolled up the sleeve to show the bicep where he had felt 40 minutes of pain, but there wasn't any tattoo there. 

"I don't understand. It was right here!"

"Allan, I think you're going a little cooky there pal..."

"Wait." Now it was Allan that looked the pigeon dead in the eye. "How do you know my name?" 

"You told me."

"No I didn't."

"Yeah, you did. You told me your name is Allan Hill."

Allan felt as if he his entire being had been struck by a lightening bolt at the mention of a single name. Hill. He never stopped to think about his last name, and now that it had been mentioned to him again, he was hit with a wave of memories he didn't remember having. All those voices that he had heard traveling through the darkness of his mind suddenly had images attatched to them.

And his name. His own, full name, which he hadn't comprehended just a couple days before. He knew the name, he had seen it printed on the cover of his own book, but he somehow didn't attach it to himself until this very moment.

"You know me, don't you?" Allan asked the pigeon.

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

"Then tell me who I am."

"I can't. Only Mr. Bullfrog can."

"Why?"

"I don't know. But those memories you've just unlocked, they're only a fraction of the ones you have in your head. You've forgotten who you are Allan, and you need Mr. Bullfrog to help you remember who you were and who you need to be."

Allan heard the sound of screeching tires. He tought it was only the memory of the car crash replaying in his head, but when he turned around, he was surprised to see a car driving up alongside the river bank. When it stopped, the passenger door opened, and a familiar face stepped out. 

"The witch." Allan said, surprised at how calm he had said those words.

"That's no witch." The pigeon said with a chuckle. "That's your girlfriend."