Frog

for the porter-substitute, if there’s one, to look out for it.” “That’d be too vague. That doorman or porter might not want to deal with something he doesn’t know about or that might entail extra work for him. Or if it’s delivered around four or five, the evening doorman might just leave it for the morning one, and the morning one, well I don’t know — it might get lost by then.” “It won’t. And I’ll have Tobley follow up on it. And this is express mail we’re talking about, not regular, so no four or five delivery but usually around noon.” “Express isn’t always express. And why are you so sure a small town around here will have express mail? We could be spending as much time looking for a post office as it would take to get back to New York.” “All towns of a certain size do, and if the one we go to doesn’t, we’ll ask in that post office for a town that does. It shouldn’t take us very long.” “Why are you so sure it’ll get to the city the next day and not Monday?” “It’s delivered every day, Sunday included I’m almost sure of — yes, Sunday too; in fact it’s the only kind of mail delivered that day, or maybe special delivery too. And this is Connecticut, one state over from New York, so it has to get there the next day.” “Maybe not from one small town to a big city. But look, what I’m reallly saying, Howard, is we shouldn’t rely on it completely, even if we called the Matlocks, knew they’d be home tomorrow and Sunday and sent the keys to them to give to the doorman to get Frog for my mother or to get and keep him for most of the summer themselves. And if the keys don’t get there by Sunday—” “They’ll be there tomorrow.” “—the earliest Frog could be rescued would be Monday. And if it’s this hot and sticky today and it’s not even noon, and we’re on a mostly shaded road with our windows down and further north now and in the country, it’s bound to get even worse in the city the next two days, so it could be too late to get Frog by then. So we have to go back, please.” “Your argument’s absurd, or pushing it, or something, but just words to persuade me, no matter how sincere you are about getting him.” “We have to go back, please — also because I don’t feel it fair to burden anyone about this but ourselves. Pay attention. Wilbur Cross ahead and the road to 95, so let’s find a way to turn around now.” “It doesn’t make any sense to me, it just doesn’t. I’m continuing on Wilbur but don’t worry, if we decide on turning around the next exit should only be a few minutes from here and the one after that another few minutes and so on. But what I’m trying to say is three, if I exceed the speed limit a lot, but more likely four hours, and for a turtle? I don’t feel anything for him. I’d say to forget the whole thing and leave him there for the summer except I don’t want to think about the mess it’ll make for two months and then have to come back to it and clean it up. Nor do I want his carcass and stuff stinking up the building and for the doormen or porters to have to deal with it — maybe even breaking down the door if they don’t immediately find our keys, and then we’ll be out a couple of hundred bucks. But he doesn’t do anything but crap and eat and move around a little and occasionally snap at imaginary flying bugs and we shouldn’t even have him. People shouldn’t have pets, period, unless they need them for seeing-eye dogs or extreme loneliness or fighting off criminals, and those aren’t our problems.” “All that we can discuss some other time.” “But why did we get him? The girls were sad. Because it was him or a yapping bird because we lost the cats, which after a long enough mourning period I can say I never really liked and who were a stiff pain and I did most of the taking care of and cleaning up for—” “Another time.” “OK. He’s practically nothing to me. And why shouldn’t he be? He’s so insentient he wouldn’t know he was being hurt and dying if I did it with my own hands, I think.” “Right, and lobsters don’t either. Which is why you drop them into boiling water so easily” “What are you talking? I don’t even eat them at other people’s homes.” “That’s what I’m saying. You know Frog would feel pain if you dropped a drop of hot water on him and if there was no air, suffocation, and other things. That he’s aware we’re gone and not there to feed him, I don’t know; but that there’s nothing to eat, when that happens, and he’s hungry and then starving-come on. But we’ll improve things to make him more active and his life better. First, a bigger tank.” “Oh, I’m sure along the way.” “No, after we’re up there a day or so — during our big shop. It’s been on my mind a long time. We should let him walk around the room every day, in Maine or in the city. And in the country we said we’d let him go on the grass sometimes and in the lake, or salt water — whichever he can take; we’ll have to find out.” “I want to walk Frog on the grass,” Olivia says. “I don’t want him to die.” “So do I,” Eva says. “Frog shouldn’t die, right, Olivia?” “Right.” “Listen, everybody, please, hush for a minute,” he says. “I’m thinking of some other solution but going back for him.” “No other,” Denise says. “Next exit, we have to turn around.” “If we go back to New York will I miss my rainbow sherbert?” Eva says. “Almost everything will be the same except later,” Denise says. “Probably at a different restaurant, so regular sherbet or ice cream instead of rainbow. Or so much later that we’ll be eating on the way, so we’ll have to skip dessert tonight to get back on the road and in the Green Heron before your father gets too tired driving. But that means we’ll get something like it or the same thing tomorrow or the next day at a different place — Dick’s in Ellsworth, when we do that big shop there.” “I don’t want to miss dessert,” Olivia says. “So you think we should let Frog die in our apartment because you want dessert?” “I didn’t say that.” “Then what are you saying? It’s a long trip back to New York. And then a long trip back to where we are right now. And maybe even a longer trip to get right here because by then a lot more people will be heading out for the long weekend—” “Oh Christ, I forgot all about that,” he says. “It’ll be hell, and by the time we got to Hartford or New Haven, even worse, and when we got to the Maine border, the absolute pits.” “And your father will keep saying we could have been here three hours ago or so, four hours, etcetera, even five — we might as well prepare ourselves for five — besides what hell he’ll say it’ll be when we pass Portsmouth and are getting close to the Maine border and that once wonderfully freeing bridge. But when we get to the Mass. Pike exit he’ll really let me have it. For then he’ll recall the up-till-then worst driving mistake we’ve ever made together — I made, he’ll insinuate. But we can’t let an animal die because it’ll be convenient for us, can we? Sherbets over turtles — are we kidding? If Frog were a frog I’d say I don’t know but I’d probably go back for it. If Frog were a worm I’d say let it go. It’s small, it’d decompose fast, there wouldn’t be that much of a smell, certainly not enough to break down a door for, and it’s nowhere near as developed as a frog or turtle.” “The turtle isn’t so developed,” he says, “at least on the brain scale.” “It’s developed enough. It sleeps, it feels fear, it makes love, it lays eggs, it sits on them and fights off predators, and when they’re hatched it turns the little turtles around in the right direction to the ocean if that’s what kind of turtle or tortoise it is. It doesn’t come when you call or lick your fingers after you feed it but it’s smarter than a lot of us think. I’ve seen a film—” “Public TV again, where we get all our learning it seems.” “Don’t be like that,” she says, “you sound awful.” “I saw that film program too,” Olivia says. “Most of the babies couldn’t find the ocean and the mother kept pushing, and one time a bird caught one of them.” “I saw that too,” Eva says. ‘The bird was ugly and mean.” “You couldn’t have seen it. Even I was small, so you were too young or not born.” “How do you know?” “Stop it, both of you, all of you,” Denise says. “The argument’s over. All the arguments and justifications and I must have this and that and such. We’re wasting time—