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Third Grade Herpetology Lesson

  • Moe Godat
  • Sep 15, 2017
  • 3 min read

Todd sat beneath the water fountain next to the playground. There was a slight spray coming from a loose valve next to him, but he didn’t mind. It was soaking through the back of his pants, turning the ample bottom of his khaki’s a runny, cinder-dusted brown. The children that played off to his right didn’t pay him much mind because this was such a common occurrence.

The day had redeemed itself. He had found a toad a few minutes before, his favorite animal. Todd loved how small and thick and bumpy they were. This toad was spirited; it wriggled to free itself from the boy’s meaty, yet tender, grip. A smile touched Todd’s face as he caught the toad before it could jump from his hand and fall onto the ground.

Saved you, he thought.

Earlier, the Three had made fun of the way his belly hung out the bottom of his uniform shirt. It wasn’t his fault that it showed, he grew out of them all so quickly now. The Three had tried to get him in trouble with his teacher again for his shirt being untucked, and she just shook her head at them. That was one of their favorite jokes, and it had gotten worse since the appearance of his stretch marks.

He had resolved to take the toad home. When he was younger, he’d had some fish which swam about idly in his living room. He could take their old home and repurpose it for his new friend. That’s what he would do. Rocks, water, some moss? He would make it a paradise.

“What’s that?” a voice much higher than his asked. He knew immediately that it was the Middle of the Three, milky-skinned and slight with a smattering of black, pinpoint freckles across his nose and cheeks. Todd felt his smile melt and drip onto the concrete as heat crept up the back of his neck. He decided to ignore the question, which resulted in a forceful nudge to his soaked behind.

The Three, he could feel them all, pressed in closer to peer over his shoulder at his hands.

He clutched them tighter, and pulled the animal a little closer to his heart.

“Dude, seriously, what is it?” A gruffer voice this time, almost too deep to be a third grader’s, asked him. He answered the Largest’s inquiry with a shiver. He wouldn’t show them. Once they saw the toad, they would take it for sure. He could only imagine what they would do to it. Todd had seen the Largest eat a beetle once. The boy had chewed it up, his lips pulled back so the other children could see the bug’s legs twitch as he bit into it.

The toad’s heart beat against the soft pink skin of Todd’s hand and reassured him. I won’t give you over, he promised, because you are mine now.

The one of the Smallest’s hands darted out and grappled at Todd’s grip, scratching and pulling for the surprise inside. Todd was afraid that the Smallest’s nails would hurt the toad, but there was nothing he could do. The toad gave another squirm, a jolt of anxiety, so its protector gave it another tight squeeze so it wouldn’t jump into the Three’s clutches.

Pop.

A thin spray of red speckled the Smallest’s hand, and dripped daintily between Todd’s fingers.

“What the…” the Smallest exclaimed, pulling away his hand away. Todd felt disbelief cripple him, the muscles in his hand relaxing so he could look at the crushed toad in shock. It took one glance to see that it was dead. Hastily, he tried to hide the body in his pants pocket, but they saw. They laughed with disgust as the Middle exclaimed, “Oh god, he killed that frog!”

As Todd ran away from them, the red spread like a memory, staining his pocket.

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