Game of Frogs

GAME OF FROGS

The girl stood shyly between her mother and father, intently observing the animated crowd which had encircled a popular boardwalk game. Each person in the circle was anxiously awaiting his or her opportunity to join the raucous ring of gamers. Just ahead of them, in the inner circle, were the gamers themselves, energetically vying to claim one of the many stuffed, furry creatures hanging overhead like so many prized ducks, dutifully displayed in the window of a Chinese eatery. The background noise at the boardwalk this night was sublimated by the unbridled revelry of the gamers themselves and the monotonous "whomp-clang-splat" perpetuated by the decidedly medieval tools of the game's trade.

Suddenly a cheer went up from the crowd and a brass bell clanged. "Winnah, winnah, chicken dinnah!" exclaimed the barker happily as he retrieved the chosen plush from the lowest tier of the prize ring and handed it to the beaming recipient. The young man squeezed through the crowd and quickly presented the bounty to his giggling sweetheart, allowing someone from the outer circle to take his place. The girl looked up at her parents, who both nodded slowly in reluctant consent, and she quickly made her way into the vacated area before it could be occupied by another eager player.

Finally, she was afforded a relatively unobstructed view of the battlefield. There were sixteen game stations in all, four on each side of the square which comprised the gaming perimeter. Inside the square was a large shallow tub filled with water and containing several rotating wheel-like contraptions. The spokes of the wheel each had plastic lily pads with flowers at their outermost ends, with one more situated at the hub. The wheels rotated jerkily and semi-swiftly in the artificial pond. Around the perimeter of the pond, the game stations sported metal catapult devices, which allowed some limited movement within their supporting trays. Lying nearby, to complete the gamers' arsenals, were large, sturdy rubber-headed mallets, and three well-worn, ill-fated, slender, slimy, synthetic frogs.

Someone from the inner circle left abruptly, and the girl quickly scurried through the opening. Now in the gaming area, she could barely see over the counter where the catapults were situated, so she climbed upon the inverted milk crate which had been conveniently provided for use by children and other vertically challenged patrons. She hopped purposefully onto the crate, and for the first time was able to clearly witness the task which awaited her. Frantic gamers were heartily launching frogs into the air at an alarming rate, with scant concern for life or limb (their own or the frog's). The girl simply stood and watched for several moments, eventually focusing on the different techniques gamers employed in their efforts to land a frog in the center of a lily pad: the object of the game. One frog in the lily netted the gamer his or her choice from the lower prize tier; two, and the middle tier was available for selection. Land three-of-three, and any prize in the booth was yours for the asking.

Having satisfied herself as to the correct manner by which to attack the game, the girl gingerly placed the first of her frogs upon the launch pad, its fore and hind legs splayed out and hanging over the edges of the platform. She picked up the mallet in both tiny hands and somewhat tentatively struck the lever. The frog boinked over the edge of the shelf, barely slipping into the pond with a timid splash. The girl sheepishly glanced over her shoulder at her parents, who were laughing and offering encouraging gestures. She smiled weakly and quickly placed a second frog on the catapult, this time taking more care to situate it in the center of the platform.

She had also noticed that some of the other gamers were moving the catapult around in its box, in an effort to better aim it at a specific lily pad. She also did this, then picked up the mallet, took a deep breath and smacked the catapult trigger with all of her might. The frog took flight for an agonizing moment, then came crashing down onto the edge of the nearest lily pad before slithering into the pond. Without hesitation, she placed the third and final frog in its place on the platform, tucking the legs under its body, so as to form a neat, compact projectile. This time she wisely aimed her catapult at the more or less stationary lily pad in the center of the nearest wheel.

Holding her breath to steady herself, she raised the mallet high over her head, a movement which simultaneously raised her onto her toes. She exhaled all at once, bringing the mallet crashing down onto the launch arm. She may have shut her eyes at the last instant, but it didn't matter; the frog jetted high into the air and landed with a gratifying thud in the very center of the lily pad at the hub of the spinning wheel! The crowded booth grew eerily silent for a moment then erupted into sustained cheering and clapping for the youngest gamer.

The girl quickly pointed to a brown, furry thing hanging from the lower prize tier on the opposite side from where she was standing. The barker presented it to her and she quickly left the booth, with the cheers and applause of fellow gamers still ringing in her ears. The brown, furry thing was, in truth, a rather ugly and poorly manufactured replica of Alf, the title character from a hugely popular TV sitcom of the day. The girl slept clinging contentedly to the Alf teddy that night, but by the following midday, the alien life form was already misplaced amid the soft clutter of the girl's bedroom. For she was already plotting her second assault upon the Frog Bog.

It was the dawning of a happy war which would be willingly waged, periodically though continuously, over a pair of summer weeks each and every year for the next decade or so. As the girl grew older, the desire to display her remarkable prowess at the Frog Bog eventually waned. There were, after all, other worlds for her to conquer.