? “Look mom, I found frogs,” I said, “See? There are eight which is how old I am. Mom, you’re not looking. Mom?”
?
“Put those back immediately!” she scolded after screeching, “It’s...it’s...disgusting, and please, Caleb! I’m working!”
?
I stumbled down the rainy steps to the backyard and watched the tiny frogs hop away when I unscrewed the lid. I sat on the bank of the creek trying to get my hair wet. Maybe mom wouldn’t yell at me when she saw how clean the rain made me. The sun peeked through the clouds when the last little frog hopped out of view.
?
“Where’s your mother, Caleb? You shouldn’t be in the rain, darling!” called a female voice from the street, startling me.
?
“Let him be a boy, Catherine,” a male voice interrupted.
?
It was Mr. and Mrs. White. They were my mom’s close friends. Well actually, my mom was friends with everyone in town because we lived in one of those close-knit communities, as mom calls them. Pretty much everyone knew each other and liked each other because they all had almost the same personality. Mom said that the townspeople liked to gossip, whatever that means, and act like ladies and gentleman, and she sounded half-upset about it. I didn’t understand why, though, because that was how she acted, too.
?
Mrs. White finally left me alone after some persuading from Mr. White, and they resumed their slow, elegant stroll to the corner of the block, but when they got to the end they seemed to walk faster. The sun went away, and I jumped up and strained my eyes to see what it was, but the trees around the creek were blocking my view. The wind suddenly picked up and blew a sheet of rain into my face, so I ran inside and away from the thunder not understanding why they seemed scared at the corner of the street.
?
“Caleb! Caleb! We need to get home!” Mom shouted from the car the next day.
?
I grabbed my backpack and ran out the door, and I forgot to say bye to my friends. I usually forgot because mom was always freakishly on time when she picked me up from school. The ride home was usually quiet, but something popped in my head.
?
“Mom? Where’s dad?” I asked.
?
She clenched her jaws and sped up around the turn.
?
“He’s fighting,” she answered curtly.
?I had to hold on to the door to keep from sliding to the other side of the car. I tried not to ask why he wanted to hurt people. We slowly inched into the garage between Mom’s daily talks with the neighbors. I got bored with their grown up talk or whatever, and I walked to the backyard. The frogs were back, but they started to hop off again as I neared the creek. I stood around for awhile until the corner of the street caught my eye between the gap in the trees. Mom was still busy talking, so I ran across the bridge to the street. I made sure there were none of Mom’s friends around, and I turned the corner. There was a man there.


?“What’s your name?” I asked, “And why are you sitting on the street?”


?He looked up at me, but he didn’t answer. I should have been scared, but I wasn’t. I looked at his face and
blinked.
?

?“You should get home, kid,” he said, “They don’t want you talking to me.”


?He stood up and walked away, but he left his camping stuff on the street.


?“Caleb! Sweetheart, what are you doing out here?” asked Mom even though she seemed to know as she watched the man walk away.


?Mom grabbed my shoulders, shot a look in the man’s direction, and steered me across the bridge, through the yard, and into the house. The only thing she said to me after that was “Quit staring at the frogs,” and that was it.


?It was Saturday and the weather was nice. Mom was busy working, so I snuck out again and sprinted to the corner of the street. The man came back, and I couldn’t understand why that made me happy. I sat down across from him, and he just looked at me. It wasn’t creepy staring, it was just like he was trying to figure me out. I heard a gasp behind me, and I turned around. Some of the neighborhood ladies were sneaking glances at me and whispered. I frowned at them and watched as they walked towards my house.


?“So kid, why do you keep coming back? I’m not-,” the man broke off as he violently coughed, “I’m not exactly the type of person your mother would like.”


?“Well I like you. You put up with me,” I said, “even though you don’t talk a lot.”


?The man was silent for a while besides his coughing. The only other noises were the birds and the frogs.


?“Why do you like it out here when you could be in your house watchin’ TV, kid?” the man asked.


?“Well don’t you?” I questioned, “No one tells me what to do out here. No one tells me to clean, to be a doctor, to be a lawyer, or whatever. I hate it when they do that. This seems so much better than being at home, don’t you think?”


?The man looked down and just scratched his head. He never really answered.


?“You like sailing, kid?” he asked.


?“Yeah.”


?“Well remember that you can’t change the wind, but you can always change the direction of the sails.” he said.


?“I know. I went sailing with my dad before,” I said.


?“Well shoo, kid,” he said, “Your mother’s probably worried.”


?I obeyed and ran back to my house but on the way there, I stopped by the creek and caught a frog. It was a pretty little thing even for a frog. I decided to give it to the man the next day.


?It was rainy the next morning. Mom was dressing me up in a black shirt and black pants. She was wearing all black, too. We arrived at the church, and stepped out in the rain. Mom told me to sit down while she talked to her friends. I was bored, so I couldn’t help but eavesdrop.


?“What a sad tragedy that has fallen on him,” said Mrs. White.


?“I know! It just came so suddenly,” Mom added, “It was so nice that they found one of his family members to fund this funeral.”


?They talked for awhile, but they never said who they were talking about. I also noticed that they were dabbing at their eyes like they were crying. I knew that was normal for a funeral, but I couldn’t understand it because there weren’t any tears on their faces.



?After we drove home I ran to the corner of the street with the little frog in my hands in spite of my mom’s disappointed face. The man wasn’t there. I looked around, but even his camping stuff was gone. He wasn’t there to see the frog I caught him. I got a choked up feeling in my throat and ran back to the creek. It was raining hard, and the rain felt like tears on my face. I sat down on the edge of the creek and opened up my hands. The little frog stayed for a second then disappeared underneath the water. I wiped the rain from my eyes, and as the ripples in the water faded, and I couldn’t understand why the sun came out after the little frog left me.