Prompt and Circumstance

Chicken? Me?

"Mountain" (July 22-24, 2016)

"Tell me more, Mumma? About your mother's first cousin twice removed's family? Pretty please?" and Emmy fluttered her eyelids and made her most adorable pleading-type pout. Flossie couldn't find it in her heart to refuse. After all, they were lazing in the beguiling warmth of the sun alongside a large still pond with its mirror-like reflection - Emmy's favourite place to hear stories of faraway places and other times.

"The one about the hunters, Mumma. The one you keep saying you can't tell me until I'm older. I AM older now, Mumma. I AM!!"

Flossie's mouth turned down at the corners. There's really no choice, she thought. My baby has to learn sometime that Life is not all a leap in the air. And maybe this isn't such a bad time... in the middle of a sunshiny day. Not as a bedtime story... no way! With Emmy's imagination, she'd be waking up screaming like a banshee... however it is they scream. Don't know, but sounds bad enough.

"OK... OK," Flossie said, and bulged out her cheeks before blowing another long stream of air through her tightened lips. And she began her story about the faraway 'arm' of the family who were of a mountain-loving nature.

"Mountaineers? Climbing to the top of mountains?" Emmy interrupted.

"No, no. Hush child. Amani's ancestors chose the sides of mountains, the lower altitudes. Imagine that... only 400 metres and more up the mountain! Sounds pretty high to me. You too?" Emmy nodded vigorously as Flossie continued, "... but none had seen the big picture from the top. No dear... just like us they preferred trees and scrub and streams and springs."

"But the hunters, Mumma. Tell me. You promised!"

Flossie stopped to brush a tear from her eye, then bravely continued. "They were relentless in their pursuit of all of our kind. At first... a long, long time ago, it was only the islanders that killed and ate us, and that was scary enough - but the numbers remained steady. Then more and more tourists visited and more and more stayed, and our kind became a delicacy, and that was NOT too OK. But then they loved the taste SO much, and those newbies were richer and wanted to eat our family daily... and then it became NOT OK at all." Flossie's great sigh stopped Emmy from interrupting again. "That was when the odious nickname 'Mountain Chicken' became popular throughout the Caribbean—"

"Mountain'Chicken', Mumma? Huh?"

"I know. Degrading, isn't it? They seriously say that's exactly what our legs taste like - chicken drumsticks!"

"Oohhh... yuk!" And Emmy shuddered from top to toes.

"There was even a rumour of the creation of a new cartoon character - to be called Froghorn Leghorn." With a final shake, Flossie lifted her head proudly and said, "Don't despair dear. Just like the saying about after the darkest night, the sun always rises, so too did the fortunes of our type change dramatically for the good, starting with us being recognised as important - followed immediately by a change of nickname. Now we are known as 'Giant Ditch Frogs', OR - if they're being particularly fancy - 'Dominican White-lipped Frogs'."

And Flossie raised her head another notch higher, "... but as far as I'm concerned, - a frog by any other name would croak as loud!"