Feet Aren't Made for Walking [BEING PUBLISHED!] #OnceUponNow

Part Two

Food. I didn't know if my wooden body was capable of consuming it, but I wanted it. All of it. Greasy potato chips, a footlong hot dog, a liter of pop. I wasn't picky. By my count, it had been...hmmm let's see...thirty-seven plus twenty-five, carry the one...a whole hour since I ate last. A man could only withstand so much torture.

I thumped my head against the mast, groaning at the dull thud of wood smacking wood. I'd caught a glimpse of my reflection in a puddle on the deck ten minutes earlier. My skin was covered in dark circles, like knots left behind by tree branches. My hair had grown rough and dark, like bark on a walnut tree. My skin was lighter, resembling oak, or maybe maple. Only my eyes were unchanged. Blue as the ocean, my dad always said, but nowhere near as deep.

I shifted my weight, stretching my legs. My limbs were stiff (obviously), and moving them made me feel clumsy. Like a baby learning to walk.

Wooden legs, pirates on the river, and my sister was kidnapped. Could this get any worse?

My stomach growled.

Apparently, yes.

But at least the dragons hadn't eaten me...yet.

I scoffed. Dragons. What next? Dwarfs? Talking animals?

"Hi there!"

My head snapped up. I scanned the deck, finding nothing.

"Hey! Over here!"

I had to be hallucinating. I needed to eat something; that was it. Once I got some food in me, I could find Mia and –

"Are you stupid? Look down here!"

Feeling like an idiot, I obeyed. But the deck was empty except for a knife and a lighter, both of which probably belonged to Sal and had been conveniently left on a table out of reach just to taunt me. Jagoff.

Something slimy touched my hand. "Back here, you moron."

The mast bumped my head as I struggled to turn around. And there, sitting on my wrist, was a fat green frog.

"Hi!"

Hallucinating. Definitely hallucinating. That thing did not just talk. My arms ached as I reached blindly behind me to capture it. Talking frog or not, I'd just found a food source.

"Whoa, buddy, I'm not a stripper. Keep your hands to yourself!"

I was mad with hunger. Seeing red. I didn't think twice when my bonds fell away. I crawled across the deck, falling on my stomach as the ship tilted portside. The knife and lighter fell off the table into my outstretched hand.

The frog's bulbous yellow eyes blinked. "Dude, think about this. I just saved your shiny wooden ass."

Still hallucinating. But eating would fix that. I had frog legs once when Mom went on a foreign food binge. They weren't half bad.

The frog jumped when I lunged. My hand-eye coordination was awful, but somehow I managed to pin one webbed foot to the deck. I clicked the lighter. The frog shied away as the flame neared its back.

It exploded.

No, not like that. Not in a mess of blood and guts or anything. But it grew. In two seconds, the frog went from a slimy, green amphibian to – poof! – a not slimy, but still green, girl.

A really cute girl. With curly red hair and yellowish, hazel eyes. But her skin was still as green as a traffic light.

Then again, my skin had turned to wood, so I didn't have room to talk. We were a match made in heaven, the green girl and I. Until she slapped me across the face.