How the Phoenix Got Her Fine Plumage Again

I wonder who gave her the really long feathers.

Hello, reader. I've noticed that several of you seem to enjoy the post I wrote about How the Phoenix Got Her Fine Plumage. So, if once was great, then a second time will be even better, right? In case you've never heard this story, or you want to brush up, you can find the original tale at the link. If you remember it, then keep reading below as we dig into this tale a bit more.

This story effectively has two characters: the phoenix and the rest of the birds in the forest. I feel bad for the phoenix. She's got a realistic worry and everyone else makes fun of her for it, especially when they see her acting to prevent her worry from being a problem. I understand the rest of the birds might not have seen her worry as realistic, but it clearly was. After all, if something is plentiful, then clearly it will never run out, right? The birds were so naive. It also can't have been easy that the phoenix looked so plain because I'm sure the other birds brought that into their taunts and it was yet another thing marking her as separate. Poor phoenix.

I wonder about the rest of the birds. I suppose the forest hasn't had a terrible storm like that for a very long time, or they would have known it was possible. After they survived that storm and were facing starvation, I wonder how difficult it was for them to go and ask the phoenix for something to eat. Maybe some of them are so full of themselves that they didn't have a problem with it, but I like to think they weren't. They had to swallow their pride before they could get any food to put in their stomachs. To their credit, no one gets mad at the phoenix for being right. They all ask for food, and are given some, and then they reward the phoenix for it later. I did and still do think their gift is superficial but also the only thing they could really give. However, this solves both of the phoenix's problems: the birds now like and accept her, and she's pretty. What more could a girl ask for at the end of a fairy tale, except a prince to marry? I say that sarcastically, but it's complicated. Thinking of yourself as pretty can be very important, but too often we're told it's the only important thing or the most important thing and it isn't either one of those. Balance is the key here. See, you didn't think a story about a bunch of birds could be this nuanced, did you?

The moral of this fairy tale would have to be: don't be a jerk, even if you think someone else is being crazy. Alternatively, if you are a jerk to someone who is proved right, then be sure to thank them profusely if they agree to help you out.

See something I missed? Have a fairy tale you want me to talk about? Annoyed I didn't question how the phoenix could attach so many feathers to herself and keep them there? Comment below!

An Ocean of Music

Greetings, friends. Last week, we looked at The Crab Prince. This week, I'll be writing a modern version of this fairy tale with violinists, who aren't particularly crabby. Without further ado, let's get to it!

Our protagonist plays a carbon fiber violin.

Reika always had a strange feeling before she went onstage to play, but when she got out there, the sound of her violin covered everything else and she could forget where she was. It was always a shock to her to hear the applause afterwards. Today, she had the feeling again, but it was stronger. She'd heard a guy before her play so well, she wasn't sure she would get first place. She didn't want to come in first, but she had to. Otherwise, she would have failed. So, Reika paced backstage. She went to the dressing room that no one had wanted to share with her and picked up her violin. The feeling came over her in a wave.

Reika almost dropped her violin. She set it on the table, but the feeling wouldn't stop. Reika's hands and knees began shaking. In her beautiful dress, Reika sat down on the floor and scooted herself into the corner. She pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them tightly. Everything else fell away as her heart hammered in her chest and she tried to stop shaking. At some point, one of the handlers came to her room to tell her to get ready. He was shocked to see her on the floor.

"I can't," Reika told him. When he didn't seem to understand, she kept repeating it. After a little while, he left and Reika got herself to stop repeating it. Other handlers came, but all she could tell them was, "I can't."

Eventually, they stopped coming and Reika put her face on her forearms. They'd given up on her. She hadn't played, so she wouldn't even place. She was an even bigger failure than she thought. Reika sat there and sobbed.

"Excuse me," a guy said. Reika looked up. He was the guy she was sure would beat her. He was holding a box of tissues and a basket of chocolate. "Do you want these?"

Reika nodded and the guy set them on the ground near her. Reika expected him to leave, but he sat on the floor next to her, dirtying his tux. Reika managed to uncurl one of her arms to take a tissue and start mopping off her face and neck. She was sure her makeup was everywhere.

"I'm Michael," the boy said after a moment.

"Reika," she replied, as if they both didn't already know the other's name.

"We took my dog for a walk the other day," Michael began. He didn't say a word about finding Reika, champion of violin, in tears. He didn't mention her disarray. He talked about a silly thing his dog had done the other day. When that story was done, he had more. Eventually, Reika had uncurled herself and was eating some of the chocolate.

The backstage announcement came on that they would be announcing the winners soon.

"Oh," Michael said.

"Go on," Reika told him. "Good luck!"

Michael stood up and offered her a hand to help her. "Thank you, Reika." He smiled and hurried out the door. Reika packed up her violin, changed, and slid out the back door. She was gone like a ghost.

*
It had been months since her breakdown and Reika still hadn't touched her violin. She wasn't sure she would ever play again. She was living with her friend in a lovely apartment near a picturesque park. It should have been the perfect place to convalesce. Reika found herself taking lone walks in the park every day. She knew her friend expected her to get over it and move on with her life soon. Reika wasn't sure how.

One day, Reika discovered a fish pond. It wasn't on the trail she had been using, but Reika cut across to sit next to it. There had been a trail closed every time she had come here and it must have connected to the pond. She couldn't understand why it was closed. The koi in the pond were beautiful and Reika soon lost herself watching them swim. Then, the surface of the water broke and suddenly, the fish were converging. Reika looked up to see who had thrown something in the pond.

"Hi," Michael said, embarrassed. He was wearing a suit and carrying his violin.

"Hi," Reika replied.

"Can I come sit with you?" Michael asked, throwing the rest of the fish food.

Reika nodded and Michael sat down.

"I never really thanked you for...before," Reika said.

Michael shook his head. "Don't worry about it. You needed to forget what was happening to you for awhile. I was happy to help."

Reika smiled. She noticed he was wearing a crab pin on the lapel of his suit. "So, are you playing for Fae, then?" Fae was one of the big shots and any musician worth their salt would die to play for her. Yet, it was strange, she rarely kept a musician in residence, although she always seemed to want one.

Michael's smile turned bitter. "Yes. I'm her resident violinist."

"Congratulations," Reika replied, surprised that she wasn't jealous. But she had given up those dreams.

"I'm not sure that's the word I would use," Michael replied, looking a little pained. "But how are you? What have you been up to?"

Reika gave a small laugh. "Not much," she confessed. "I haven't touched my violin since that day."

"Really?" Michael asked. He looked down at his violin. "I suppose you don't want to play mine?"

Reika thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. She probably sounded horrible after so long away from it. She cast about for something else to talk about. "How did you get over here? The path to this place must be closed. I cut across a trail."

"Ah." Michael looked a little pained again. "Fae has taken to eating her lunch out here every day and she doesn't like sharing the space."

"And you're her music?" Reika guessed.

Michael nodded.

Reika looked at him. "Do you want to talk about how bad it is? Because it looks like it's bad."

Michael looked at the koi for a moment. "I'm in an exclusive contract," he said, "and I can't break it. Only Fae can."

"Oh." Reika didn't think it would be polite to tell him that was stupid. A musician as talented as Michael could play anywhere in the world he wanted to.

"I know it's stupid. I just thought about how lucky I was and I didn't really read it."

"Can you get a lawyer?" Reika asked.

"Where?" Michael asked. "No one will go against Fae in this town and even if I got a lawyer from somewhere else, I'm sure she'd charm her way out of it."

"Or pressure them," Reika added contemplatively.

Michael laughed. "Now you're getting it." He looked at his watch. "You'd better go. Fae will be here soon and she won't like to see anyone else in her private spot."

"Will you be here again tomorrow?" Reika asked impulsively.

Michael looked surprised. "Yes."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow." Reika got up and walked away before she could say anything else.

*
Reika met Michael at the koi pond every day for several weeks. Fae never seemed to tire of eating lunch there and Reika was glad to talk to someone like Michael. He understood how the violin could become your life and how it could consume you. He was also sympathetic about how Reika never wanted to play again after her breakdown.

They talked about everything. Reika kept bringing him ideas for how to get out of his contract with Fae, but none of them worked. Reika grew to hate the crab in his lapel, marking him as Fae's. Reika knew they couldn't keep meeting out here forever and one chilly autumn day, she showed up at the koi pond, but Michael never did. Reika knew it must have just gotten too cold for Fae to eat outside anymore, but she was worried. Still, what could she do? Michael would have to get Fae to break his contract.

A few weeks later, Reika was invited to a symphonic dinner. She took her roommate along and enjoyed introducing her to old friends. However, one of the friends Reika saw at this dinner was Michael. He looked awful. Reika managed to get a few words with him but only polite nonsense. She had to lean forward to hear Michael, his words were so quiet. When they filed in for the concert, Reika was quiet and she only listened with half an ear. Something had to be done and she didn't like it.

That night, Reika opened up her violin case. Her violin was still in good shape, although the strings had all gone flat. Reika slid her bow across her rosin. She shivered. Then she reminded herself that it had to be done. Slowly, she tuned her violin.

Her roommate stuck her head in the door. "Oh, playing again?"

"Yeah," Reika said, trying not to let her voice quaver. "I think so."

Every day, Reika pushed down her anxiety and fear and played. She knew this wasn't the right way to solve her problems with the violin, but she didn't have time to do it the right way  She practiced as hard as she ever had. She had to play better than Michael and that would be no easy task. She was glad she hadn't lost her calluses yet.

Finally, her playing was up to par, but Reika wasn't sure she was ready. Everything she'd had on the line before was just for herself. Now, she was playing for Michael. Reika took a deep breath and made a phone call.

"Yes, I wanted to play a recital to announce that I'm coming back." She tried to sound excited when she said it. Reika tried to sound that way when she arranged everything for her recital. Her pianist was thrilled at how Reika sounded in rehearsal. Reika tried to share her enthusiasm.

Finally, the day came. Reika was using a stage at a local college. She peered out into the audience. Sure enough, Fae was there and she had brought Michael along, perhaps as a lesson to him. Or to Reika. Reika gulped and took a few deep breaths. She could do this. No one out there would matter once she started playing.

Reika looked at her accompanist. She nodded. Reika put on a smile and walked out on the stage. The applause was deafening, but Reika tried not to hear it. She walked to the middle of the stage and gave a bow. Her pianist slid onstage in her wake and sat down. Reika checked the tuning of her violin, knowing it held its pitch well, and nodded at the pianist. Reika took a deep breath, raised her bow up high, and began.

She played for herself and all the joy she thought she'd lost in her music. She played for the anxiety and fear she'd been repressing for so long. She played for Michael to show him it hadn't been a waste to comfort that sobbing girl. Reika played and played until the recital was over. After she lowered her bow, there was a stunned silence for a moment. Then the place exploded with applause. Everyone was standing up. Reika, exhausted, smiled and bowed several times. Eventually, she made her escape offstage and stayed there. However, that was the easy part.

Reika went back to her green room and downed a bottle of water. She carefully put her violin away and wiped it down. It took a little longer than she had expected, but finally Fae barged in with Michael in tow.

"What a triumph," Fae declared. "Back from the dead! My dear, you sounded better tonight than you've ever sounded!"

"Thank you," Reika said.

"But surely you don't mean to play alone. The world can be a difficult place for a musician all on their own. You need a protector."

This was going faster than Reika had anticipated. "A protector?" she asked.

"My dear. I can get you into any concert hall you can imagine. Any fancy dinner party. Anywhere. All you have to do is sign a contract to be my musician in residence."

Reika had to admit, the bait was good. "I thought you already had a musician in residence."

Fae looked at Michael. "Oh yes. Surely you two know each other. I could have some simply divine violin duets written up for the two of you."

"I'm afraid not," Reika said with a frown. "I work alone."

"Excuse me?" Fae asked, not used to being told no.

"If you want me as your artist in residence, you've got to break Michael's contract."

Michael's eyes went wide. "No!" he said.

"Hush, Michael," Fae said, her eyes still on Reika. "So, little miss has outgrown her days of following the rules, has she?"

"I've never worked well with others," Reika said. "They're stifling. That's why I worked hard to win so many contests. Can you imagine someone with my talent and skill being concert mistress instead of featured soloist?" Reika had practiced this speech and she hoped it sounded as convincing here as it had in her bathroom.

"I see," Fae said. "Well, I shall have to think on your offer. Don't let my generous offer go to waste, my dear."

"I want to see how it stacks up against the others," Reika replied blandly.

Fae's eyes got bright and her mouth compressed to a thin line. "Excuse me?" she asked.

"I'm sure you're not the only music lover who's having the same idea," Reika said. "I want to see what other offers I get before I sign anything."

Fae drew herself up.

"Good night," Reika said to her, picking up her violin case. She left the green room and headed into the crush of well-wishers, leaving an enraged and dangerous woman behind her.

*
The next day, Fae's lawyer called Reika, hoping to iron out the details of Reika's contract. Reika held firm that her lawyer would have to look it over and that she would not sign it if Michael was still an artist in residence for Fae. "And he'll have to tell me himself that he's been dismissed!" Reika declared.

To her credit, Fae hung on for almost a week before giving in. Reika was sure Michael was looking worse and worse each day and he couldn't be playing up to his potential anymore. Finally, Reika was summoned to Fae's house. Reika went with her heart in her mouth and her violin case in her hand.

Everyone knew where Fae's house was and how grand it was, but Reika had never had to go inside it before. It didn't look like a place where one lived. Reika knocked on the door and a butler showed her in.

"I have decided that it is worth it to dismiss Michael in order to sign you up, Reika," Fae began. Reika was glad she was getting straight to the point.

"Excellent. Can I get it in writing that you are dismissing Michael?"

Fae's eyes narrowed. "Of course, dear."

Reika watched Fae write out the simple sentence and sign it. Reika took the paper and placed it in her violin case. "Excellent. To celebrate, I wondered if you might want to hear some music?"

"Of course," Fae replied.

Reika smiled and got out her violin. She tuned quickly and began to play a solo, a haunting piece. She had meant to make Fae cry, but the old woman wasn't shedding a tear. Reika transitioned into a soft, soothing piece to try to make Fae sleepy. Fae sat up straighter in her chair. Running out of ideas, Reika transitioned into a dance. Fae's foot began tapping. Encouraged, Reika began to play faster and louder. Fae was tapping both feet. Reika began to walk around the room as she played. Fae stood up and began to dance, just a little. Reika repeated the tune and sped it up. Fae began to dance in earnest. Reika played faster and faster and began to move toward the door. Fae twirled across the room.

Michael slid in the door behind Reika and darted forward to grab Reika's violin case. Then the two of them ran from the room, Reika stopping the tune only once they slammed the door behind them. She had gotten out of there without signing anything. It had worked. They didn't have time to put Reika's violin away, so they ran into the street carrying everything. They didn't stop until they were a block away from Fae's house.

"You really did it," Michael said in wonder. "I feel like a huge weight's been lifted off of my shoulders."

"You're welcome," Reika replied, putting her violin safely into its case. "I had to pay you back."

"You've done that many times over," he said.

Reika smiled and they started walking.

"So," Michael began, "did you really mean that you didn't want to play any duets?"

Reika shrugged, thinking that if she needed to play more, she would probably need to start therapy. "Depends on who I'm playing with. Why?"

"I was just thinking two all-star violinists have twice the appeal of one."

Reika laughed. "What makes you think I'm coming out of retriement?"

"Retirement? Already?" Michael scoffed. "Music runs through your veins, Reika. Even if you stop getting paid, you'll never stop playing."

Reika looked at her violin case and considered. "You know, a duet might not be such a bad idea." She looked up at Michael. "Only, you've got to take that crab off."

Michael looked down at his coat. "I forgot that thing was still there." Quickly, he unclipped it from his coat and tossed it into a garbage can.

"Perfect. Now, I might consider a duet with you."

Michael laughed and Reika wondered at how much more her life would change now that she was confronting her problems. Hopefully it would all be for the better.

The Crab Prince

Yo! Take me home and break my spell!

Greetings, dear reader. This week's tale comes to us from Italy. The Crab Prince is one of those stories where the princess breaks the spell on a handsome prince. Spoilers. Click the link to read the fairy tale and then continue reading here to analyze it with me.

I am always a fan of the princess doing the rescuing. She does fall in love with this enchanted prince as soon as she sees him, which is a bit worrisome, but I suppose at least she is able to break the spell he's under. We also see that this girl is used to getting her way. It's actually a plot point that she always gets her way. How else would she have gotten the crab? And then learned to play violin so well? And then been able to play it on the rock by the sea? That's some serious dedication. Either the fairy isn't a great judge of musical ability, or this princess spent months learning to play. I'm just going to assume that the princess was super talented and had nothing better to do than practice all day. I'm also glad that when her prince asked her to keep her mouth shut about their pending engagement, she did. That's not something women in fairy tales get to do often.

Then we have the flower that the fairy was using to keep this prince as a crab, for some reason. I have questions. Since the princess got the flower from the fairy, doesn't the princess have the prince's life now? Did he even have a choice about marrying her? What happens if the princess gives the prince that flower? Also, how did two adults fit inside a crab shell? Sorry, I should have questioned that earlier, I suppose.

Next, we have the fairy. All we know about her is that she loves music, she made this prince into a crab, and she meets with him every day for lunch. Seems to me like she just doesn't know how to make friends. Which is a shame, I bet the princess would have been her friend if the fairy had asked. I'm not sure if the prince would have. We don't get nearly as much of his personality. Also, I have to wonder about the fairy giving up the flower that was the prince's life. Maybe she was getting tired of having lunch with him every day. That's three hours out of her day she's got to spend with someone who has nothing more interesting to talk about than the movements of fish in the pond with him. She might have been ready to give up that flower, especially if she didn't think the girl she gave it to knew what it was.

The moral of this story is to always swim in the ditches next to your house. Alternatively, if you manage to get under a fairy's spell, make sure a really talented girl falls for you.

Have a fairy tale or legend you want me to talk about? Have a different moral? Annoyed I didn't talk aboutu the prince at all? Comment below!

My Froggy Friend

Hello, readers. Last week, we looked at The Frog Prince. This week, I'll be writing a modern version of that story. Time to channel the fussy frog inside all of us...

He looks normal enough until he starts talking.

Regina frowned at the canvas in front of her. This piece was supposed to be about the creek behind her house and how it slid through and around all obstacles, but her painting wasn't showing that. Regina stood up and stretched. There had to be a way to get her intent into this painting somehow. Regina walked over to the creek and bent over to look at it more closely.

The water moved quickly, and this time of year it was usually cold. Regina was just glad it hadn't rained recently or the creek would be a muddy mess. Suddenly, Regina felt something slide out from behind her ear and fall in front of her. Regina muffled a curse. That paintbrush was brand new.

She reached into the creek with both hands, but she couldn't find it. Regina was finding increasingly creative swearwords when someone said, "Um. Excuse me?"

Regina looked up. There was no one there. She turned around and there was no one in the yard either. "That's weird," Regina said. Maybe she needed to take a break.

"I'm across the creek," the voice said. Regina looked across. "Down here." Then a frog was waving at her.

Regina stared at the frog. "I've never seen a frog wave before," she muttered.

"Or heard one talk, I bet."

The frog's lips had moved. He had talked. Right?

"Look. Don't freak out. We're wasting time. I can get your paintbrush back."

"You can?" She'd had to work too many hours at the store to buy that brush only to lose it on the first day.

"Yes, but you have to let me live with you for three days if I get it for you."

"Live with me?" Regina asked. "What do you mean?"

"Eat with you, share your bed..." The frog looked at her. "Not like that! I'll stay on my side. I'm a gentleman."

"Who is a frog," Regina pointed out.

"Look, do you want your paintbrush back or not?"

Regina hesitated, but how bad could it be to live with a talking frog for just three days? "Fine."

As soon as Regina spoke, the frog jumped off the bank and into the creek. Regina watched him swim away but of course he had excellent camouflage. Regina waited. She rolled her shoulders and looked back at her painting.

Eventually, the frog came swimming up with the paintbrush in his mouth. Regina had a sudden image of him as a dog and she couldn't help but laugh.

The frog hopped onto the bank and set the brush next to him. "Excuse me. Was something funny?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's just you looked... Never mind. Thank you for getting my paintbrush back."

Regina reached out for it, but the frog put his hand over it. "Our bargain?" he asked

"Of course," Regina said. "I'll take you inside. I can't do anything else with that today anyway."

The frog removed his hand from her paintbrush and looked over at the painting. "You're very talented," he said.

Regina looked up from examining her paintbrush and blushed. "Thanks. I'm not really selling much yet."

"You will," the frog said and looked at her. "What's your name?"

"Regina. What's yours?"

The frog thought for a moment. "Just call me Frog," he said.

"That's easy," Regina replied, putting her paintbrush away. "Let me just tidy up here and we can head in."

It didn't take long for her to pack everything up and grab the painting. Regina hesitated and looked down at Frog. "Do I need to carry you or...?"

"No. I can walk," he replied stiffly.

Regina raised her eyebrows and looked away. "He's touchy," she thought. Regina shrugged and headed inside.

She left the door open behind her while she set everything down and put the painting out of harm's way. About the time she was done, Frog hopped over the threshold and into the house. Regina shut the door behind him.

"So, uh, this is my house. I mean, I rent it but..." Regina looked around. "This is my studio. It used to be a porch, but someone closed it in. It gets great light and it looks out on the backyard with that beautiful creek." She realized who she was talking to. "But I'm sure you know all about that. Um. In here is the kitchen." Regina led Frog into the kitchen. It was strange that she felt self-conscious about her house. He was only a frog. "I know it's not that nice but..."

"You've made it yours," Frog said. It was true. Regina had gotten permission to paint the cabinet doors and she'd hung a few of her favorite pieces on the walls. She hoped he was looking at that and not all the dirty dishes in the sink.

Regina took him on a short tour of the rest of the house. There was a small living room with the standard TV and old furniture. Her bedroom, which was only mildly messy, the second bedroom which stored her finished art pieces, and a small bathroom. They ended back in the living room. "So," Regina said, looking at her watch. "I need to eat lunch and then I have to go to work."

"You work?" Frog asked.

Regina nodded. "Yup. The joys of retail. I don't make enough off of my paintings yet."

Frog nodded sagely. "So, what are we having for lunch?"

"Oh yeah," Regina said. "I have some leftover Mexican food. Does that work or do you need bugs...?" She trailed off, sure she was going to offend Frog again.

"Mexican food will be fine."

Regina heated it up in the microwave, hoping Frog wouldn't eat too much. She still needed to go to the grocery store this week. As it turned out, Frog only had a couple of bites and then said he was full.

Regina finished eating and went into her room to change. Sharing her plate with a talking frog was probably the weirdest thing she'd ever done, but at least he kept his food separate from hers. She came back out in her work clothes. "Well, I have to go. Will you be all right here?"

"Of course," Frog said. "Don't worry about me."

"Okay," Regina said. "Well, bye. I'll be back kind of late."

"Goodbye," Frog replied.

Regina closed and locked the door behind her. This was weirder than sharing her plate. She was worried he was going to do something to her house. "Like steal my valuable stuff?" Regina mocked herself, getting into her beat up car. It would be fine and, besides, she didn't have time to try to get him out. Regina started her car and headed to work.

*

Regina came home much later. She pulled the front door shut behind her like she was slamming it in someone's face. She walked right past Frog, who was in the living room. Regina quickly changed clothes in her room and stormed out to her studio. She pulled down a bare canvas, squeezed out some paint, and began to paint furiously. Frog hopped over to watch, but she didn't notice him.

Regina started muttering to herself. "Stop talking and step up to the register," she snapped. "You'd think they'd never been in a line before." Regina swiped her brush across the canvas and then again the opposite way. As Frog watched, her random swipes slowly began to create an image. He was looking at a rough picture of a fox. It looked like it had been walking and then turned its head to the side to stare at the viewer. There was something wild in its gaze.

Regina stepped back, looked it over, and added a bit more paint. She looked it over again and nodded. She started cleaning up.

"That's really impressive," Frog said.

Regina jumped. "I forgot you were here!"

"I do blend in," Frog said, forgiving her. "Did you know what you were going to make when you started painting?"

"I had kind of an idea, but I wasn't sure how I wanted to pose the fox until after I started painting."

"Do you always come home and rage paint after work?" Frog asked this so politely that Regina couldn't help but laugh.

"'Rage paint'. I like that. Not always. Today was pretty rough, though, and I needed to let it out."

Frog nodded solemnly.

"Oh. I ate dinner at work. Do you need anything to eat?"

"No. I will be fine until the morning."

Regina nodded. "Right." She finished putting her supplies away awkwardly. She checked her clothes for wet paint, but the little that had gotten on them was already dry. "Well, um, usually I read or watch TV after work. What do you want to do?"

"Do you play chess?"

"No. But I have a mancala board."

"Mancala." Frog considered.

"I'll teach you how to play. It's pretty fun."

Regina walked into the living room and pulled down her board and the stones. It was a fairly simple game to explain and they were playing in no time. Frog got much better as they played, but Regina still managed to beat him.

"You're really good at this," he marveled.

"Thanks," Regina replied. "After awhile, no one wanted to play me because I kept beating them."

"I could understand that," Frog teased.

Regina laughed. "You do have a sense of humor. I was wondering."

"Why?"

"You just seem so stuffy. Not what I expected from a frog."

"What did you expect from a frog?" Frog was curious.

"I'm not really sure," Regina replied, "but you're just like a person in a little frog body."

Frog said nothing.

"Oh. I'm sorry." Regina fell into an awkward silence. The stones clattered against the mancala board and Regina ended up winning again. "Well," Regina checked her watch. "I'm beat. Are you ready to sleep?"

"Yes."

Regina put the mancala board away and headed into her room. "So how does this work?" she asked, looking at her full size bed.

"I'll sleep on one of the pillows," Frog decided.

"Okay," Regina said. "Can you get up there?"

In answer, Frog jumped onto the bed.

"Okay," Regina said. "I'll go brush my teeth." She took her pajamas with her to the bathroom. Regina took her time brushing her teeth, but she had to go back into her room eventually. She put her dirty clothes in the basket and got in bed. "Good night," she ventured.

"Good night," Frog replied. "Thank you for letting me stay with you."

Regina smiled. "Of course. I keep my promises."

The next morning, Frog explained that he would spend the day out in the creek and that he would like to come back around dinner time.

That worked for Regina, who had go to work that morning. She had decided not to tell anyone about the polite, talking frog staying with her for a few days. She didn't have time for people to think she was crazy.

After Regina came home that night, she took a long, hot shower. She had managed to go grocery shopping before she came home, so she had more dinner options to choose from. "Any preference for tonight?" she asked Frog as she was putting groceries away.

"Whatever you want will be fine," he told her.

Regina thought as she finished up. "How about freezer pizza? I'm too tired to cook."

"Okay," Frog said.

Regina preheated the oven and sat down at her kitchen table. "So, how did you manage to become a talking frog?" she asked.

Frog jumped. He almost went sailing off the table. "Um. I'd rather not talk about it."

"Oh. I guess that's fair." Regina cast about for something else to talk about.

"How was work?" Frog asked.

Regina shrugged. "Not as annoying as yesterday, but it's easier to open than close. At least for me."

Frog nodded.

"Have you been in a store?" Regina asked, suddenly aware he might not know what she was talking about.

"Oh yes," Frog replied. "I used to- Well. I'm familiar with what you're talking about."

"Okay," Regina replied. They made small talk until the oven finished preheating, and Regina put the pizza in. "Can I paint you?" Regina asked at last.

"Excuse me?" Frog asked, confused.

"Can I paint you? I've never painted a frog before and you'll hold still longer than any other one."

Frog laughed. "I suppose so. Certainly. Shall we go to your studio?"

Regina nodded and stood up. She positioned Frog on a stool and got a small canvas ready. They chatted a little bit while Regina was painting, but she would often drop-off mid-sentence if she got too engrossed in her work. Eventually, the timer on the oven went off and Regina went to take the pizza out. By now, the insides of most of her oven mitts had paint in them, so she didn't worry about it any more. Then she put away her supplies while the pizza cooled.

Regina and Frog sat down to dinner. She gave him one piece of pizza and he said that would be plenty. "So, what are you plans tomorrow?" Regina asked.

Frog shrugged and swallowed his bite. "To be honest, I haven't made any. How about you?"

"Tomorrow's my day off. Do you mind if I work on painting you tomorrow?"

"Of course not. I've never been painted before."

Regina smiled. "Perfect."

That night, Regina convinced Frog to watch a movie that was playing on TV and couldn't help but feel triumphant when he enjoyed it. It was still kind of strange to share a bed with him, but at least he didn't kick in his sleep. Or snore. "Good night," Regina said.

"Good night, Regina," Frog replied.

The next morning, Regina slept in a bit and Frog was already up by the time she stumbled into the kitchen. "I'm ready for my portrait," he announced as Regina downed some cereal.

Regina laughed. "Perfect. Maybe I'll finish it today. If I'm lucky."

"That would be nice," Frog replied.

"Oh yeah. Tonight's the last night you're staying with me," Regina said, putting her dishes in the dishwasher. "Where are you going after that?"

"Home," Frog replied.

"Huh," Regina replied, thinking about how the creek wasn't that far away from her house. "Well, you can come visit me again. You're kind of fun to have around."

"Thank you," Frog replied. "Most people think I'm too formal."

"It's hard to say that about a frog," Regina pointed out.

"Point taken," Frog replied.

"Anyway, let me get into my painting clothes and we'll work on your portrait some more, Sir Frog." Laughing, Regina walked back into her room to change.

The day flew by and Regina managed to put the finishing touches on Frog's portrait shortly after dinner. "I still have to finish the background," she cautioned him.

"That's fine," Frog said. "Can I see it?"

Feeling a bit nervous, Regina turned the canvas around.

Frog got quiet and studied the painting. He looked at it from a few angles.

"I did all right, didn't I?" Regina asked, not able to stand the silence.

"Oh yes. You've brought out the frogginess quiet beautifully. Yet why do I feel like he should be wearing a crown and sitting on a throne?"

Regina laughed. "I can do that," she offered.

"Oh no," Frog replied quickly. "I was only joking."

Regina shook her head and smiled. "I'm about done for today, anyway. Another movie?"

"I suppose so. I did enjoy the last one."

"Great." Regina picked up a bit and then the two of them settled in the living room. It was pretty late by the time they headed to bed. When they were getting settled in, Regina turned to Frog and said, "Tell me goodbye before you leave tomorrow, okay?"

"Of course," Frog replied.

"Good night, Frog."

"Good night, Regina."

Regina shifted around a bit and then fell asleep.

The next morning, Regina opened her eyes and there was an older man sleeping in the bed next to her. It took her a moment to realize what had happened. Then she screamed and jumped out of bed. There was a baseball bat under the bed and Regina had it in her hands faster than she thought possible.

The man woke up and looked around. "Don't worry, Regina," he said, putting his hand out to try to calm her. Then he stared at his hand.

"How do you know my name?" Regina demanded, her grip tightening on the bat.

"You told me your name three days ago," the man replied, still marveling at his hand. Then he looked up at her, "You did it!"

"Did what?" Regina began wondering if she could just change the locks or if she needed better security overall.

"You helped me change from a frog back into a human!"

"What?" Regina asked, her grip loosening on the bat a little bit.

"I was Frog! To break the spell, a lady had to invite me into her house and eat with me and sleep with me for three nights. I mean, let me share her plate and her bed. I mean..."

Regina started laughing and lowered the bat. Frog blushed.

"You're not making any sense, but you're definitely Frog. What's your name, really?"

"Thomas," the man replied.

"Well, Thomas. I'm glad I could break your spell. You couldn't have warned me?"

"If I had, it wouldn't have worked. I tried that already."

"Oh. How long have you been a frog?"

Thomas shrugged. "Longer than I care to admit. Can I borrow you phone? I need to call my family."

"Of course!" Regina grabbed her phone. "Do you know their numbers?"

"Well, I know my brother's number. He'll have to tell everyone else until I get home. Assuming all my stuff is still there." Thomas sat still for a moment. "Goodness. I was so focused on becoming a human again, I didn't think about what would happen after."

"Hey, you'll get through it," Regina said, handing him her phone. "I'll help as much as I can."

Thomas smiled at her. "Thanks."

Regina left the room to give him some privacy. She went to look at her portrait of Thomas as a frog. There were definitely some similarities there, but the background needed some work. Absentmindedly, Regina pulled out her paints and her new paintbrush. She worked on the painting until Thomas came out to find her.

She was just finishing up when he saw it. Thomas laughed. "Perfect," he said.

Regina smiled. "I thought so." She stood back to admire the effect. The frog she had painted was calmly sitting on her kitchen table. "If I do another portrait of you, it'll have to be in the creek," she decided.

"As long as I don't have to get in the creek again." Thomas shuddered. "I've had quite enough of that."

"Well, now you might have to," Regina replied laughing.

Shaking his head, Thomas laughed with her.