17: Explosive Events

  I throw on some clothes and run out to the back yard just as Melissa, Tommy, and Quentin arrive.

  Our whole yard is scorched bone dry! Every tree and shrub hangs limp. The brown grass crunches under my feet. The whole area looks like some water vampire has sucked up every drop of moisture.

  The frog lies flopped into my empty swimming pool, crushing down the wall. He has swollen to a monstrous size, sprawling across half the lawn.

  “That rotten thing ruined our yard!” Melissa cries. “It’s dried to a crisp.”

  “Mine too,” says Tommy.

  “Sabotage!” Quentin says. “I told you it was a Communist spy.”

  “Don’t complain to me,” I snap. “None of this was my idea!”

  I step closer to the frog. I’m mad enough to kick him.

  “Be careful,” Tommy says, “he looks ready to burst any second.”

  The frog rolls one eye down towards me. There is such sadness in it that I can’t stay angry at him.

  “Why did you do such a stupid thing?” I ask.

  I reach up and stroke the wretched creature. His colorful skin feels like a stretched tight water balloon.

  “Mmmmgh, bluurp!” is all it can say.

  “What are you gonna do, Amanda?” Melissa says. “The adults will be up soon, and they won’t be happy.”

  “You’ve got that right,” I say. “What are you doing here, anyway, Melissa?”

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she says. “I kept having weird dreams.”

  Quentin and Tommy nod. “Yeah, us, too.”

  The frog seems to be in terrible pain, being all stretched out as he is. I feel so sorry for the water-logged brute that I actually kiss him on the cheek, if frogs have cheeks, that is.

  “Poor froggie,” I say.

  “Oh, yuck!” Melissa says.

  “Can you move?” I ask. “Try to get off the pool wall, maybe you won’t hurt so much then.”

  The frog starts to roll, gurgling and swishing. Too late, I notice the broken piece of metal ladder sticking up. It stabs into him, and a jet of water shoots out.

  “Look out, Amanda!” Tommy cries. “He’s gonna blow up!”

  A powerful, but almost noiseless, explosion flings me across the lawn. My friends tumble over with me. A tremendous blast of water gushes straight into the sky and spreads out into a giant mushroom cloud. Then it vanishes in an instant.

  Only a drizzly mist remains. We stagger back to our feet.

  The frog has disappeared!

  18: The Proposal

  “Well, that’s the end of him,” Tommy says.

  “Good riddance!” Melissa says. “Just look at this mess. It’s worse than my yard, even.”

  Then, all of a sudden, this gorgeous hunk of a guy steps out of the mist. He gives off such a glow that I can scarcely look at him.

  “W-who are you?” I say.

  He looks my direction and smiles; an incredible thrill shoots through me.

  “I am the son of the Sky King,” he says in a deep, mellow voice.

  We all stand gaping at him – except for Quentin who looks supremely unimpressed.

  “Well, isn’t that something?” he says. “What are you doing here?”

  “Recently, I displeased my father,” the hunk says, “and as punishment he sent me down in the shape of a frog.”

  “You really are a prince!” Melissa gasps.

  “Yes, quite so, my lady.”

  He bows slightly toward her. I think Melissa is going melt right into the ground.

  Then he addresses all of us: “To free myself from the spell, I had to perform three astonishing tasks.”

  “Right!” Quentin scoffs, but the prince ignores him.

  “First, I had to drink up all the water in a pond,” the sky prince says.

  “You already did that yesterday,” Quentin says. “Why did you dry up everything here, too?”

  The Prince looks around the parched backyard and shrugs.

  “Once I got started, it was rather difficult to stop.”

  “Kind of like eating potato chips, huh?” Tommy says.

  “Quite so,” the prince replies.

  “What were the other tasks, Your Lordship?” Melissa asks.

  She’s sidled up to the guy and is practically hanging on him like a window curtain.

  My eyes have gotten more used to his glow, and I can see him better now. His body is right off the Superman TV show, with a powerful chest ready to explode out of his skin-tight, sky-blue blue shirt. He has flowing golden hair and a pointy little beard on a sharp, handsome face. His hands are surprising small, almost delicate; the fingers all sport rings with emeralds and rubies. His long cape glistens in many colors.

  “For my second task, I had to make some human friends,” the Prince says, giving us the slightest bow.

  “We were glad to oblige, Your Princeship!” Melissa says, her eyelashes fluttering.

  The prince’s face is very proud – arrogant really – and a little cruel. I can see this, but do not want to admit it yet. With his pointy beard and sharp face, he looks a bit like Lenin in Grandma’s picture.

  “Boys rule the world,” as Quentin put it; seems like they rule the sky, too.

  “For my third task,” the prince continues, “I had to persuade a beautiful girl to kiss me.”

  I feel my face reddening.

  “I-I never thought of myself as beautiful,” I manage to say.

  “Your beauty is waiting inside,” the Prince says. “Soon it will blossom out for all to see.”

  “Yeah?” I say.

  The Prince steps towards me and lowers himself to my height.

  “Do you know what ‘Amanda’ means?” he asks.

  “No.”

  I move back from his overwhelming presence.

  “It means: ‘worthy to be loved,’” the prince says.

  A wicked little smile is on his mouth; his eyes flash. I feel ready to fall over backwards. Only the weight of the gold star around my neck seems to keep me balanced.

  “Actually, that’s my middle name,” I hear myself say. “Ekaterina is my first name.”

  The prince looks baffled.

  “Oh, really?” he says.

  “You never told us that,” Tommy says.

  The prince strokes his pointy beard thoughtfully.

  “That sounds like a version of Katherine,” he says.

  “That’s right,” I say, “it’s Russian.”

  I feel oddly proud to acknowledge this, but Quentin appears to be shocked. He’s staring at me, wide-eyed.

  Well, it’s out now, Quentin, I think. Go stuff that in your SAC hat!

  “Katherine means ... ‘pure, virginal,’” the prince says quietly, as if he’s talking to himself.

  He seems less pleased than he was with ‘Amanda,’ but he soon gets over it.

  “An excellent name, as well!” he says.

  Waves of power are rushing off the prince, like when I’d first seen him at Secret Pond, but much stronger. They vibrate right through my body, heating and chilling me at the same time. My knees start giving way, and I grab Quentin’s arm for support.

  “Be careful,” Quentin whispers in my ear, “I don’t trust this guy.”

  The prince laughs, tossing his golden curls. He twirls his cape around himself, sending spikes of color in all directions.

  “When the proper time comes, I shall marry you, Ekaterina,” he says.

  19: A Tough Decision

  I’m too stunned to reply. The boys gape. Melissa shoots me a murderous look.

  “I shall bring you to my sky palace, Ekaterina Amanda” the prince says, “and you will be at my side as I rule.”

  Dazed by this incredible turn of events, I can’t utter a sound.

  I glance around the burnt-out yard – at my friends, at my average little world. I’ve never realized before how boring everything is.

  Then I take in the gorgeous prince – his powerful physique an
d handsome face, the gleaming smile that could have come a from toothpaste ad. I sure am tempted.

  What girl wouldn’t be?

  Imagine, no more weird grandparents or homework. No more requirements to get top grades or to clean my room to military standards. If I can’t be a jet pilot, why do I always have to be so Air Force spic and span?

  Quentin breaks the silence.

  “What did you do that got your father so mad, anyway?” he says.

  The prince fidgets with his jeweled rings.

  “It’s rather embarrassing. I’d prefer not to say.”

  “Come on, fess up,” Quentin says. “If it wasn’t for us, you’d still be at Secret Pond wearing your frog suit.”

  “Very well, then,” the Prince says. “My father believed that I was spending too much time pursuing ... the ladies, while neglecting my main purpose.”

  Quentin laughs sarcastically.

  “A lady killer, eh?” he scoffs. “I thought so. What’s this big ‘main purpose’ supposed to be?”

  A thunderous frown darkens the prince’s face. I fear that he might vaporize Quentin, or something. Quentin doesn’t seem to be afraid, though.

  “Well?” Quentin demands.

  “My purpose is to brighten the world,” the prince finally says. “So that when people look to the sky, they feel renewed hope.”

  Wow – that is a cool answer! Why not live in the sky, I wonder, and have the Prince run everything for me? Just sit back with no worries, no decisions – be above everything. Have my whole life controlled ...

  “My father thought I was being distracted,” the Prince says, “so he ordered me to choose a special lady and settle down after I escaped from the spell.”

  An awkward pause. Tommy and Quentin draw back, whispering to each other. Melissa stands with her arms crossed and a stony cold look on her face.

  A grasshopper lands on the prince’s sleeve. Anger flashes across his face – as if he’s been insulted by the little bug. He flicks it away and stomps it underfoot, muttering:

  “Everything is so messy down here!”

  Again he reminds me of the Lenin picture. Here is someone who likes to be in charge – of everything.

  “Just when is this ‘proper time’ for the wedding?” Tommy finally says. “Five years from now, ten years?”

  “Well ... that’s yet to be decided,” the prince replies.

  “Very convenient,” Quentin says. “Allow yourself plenty of time to keep fooling around. By then maybe the old man will be off your back.”

  The prince’s face turns dark and menacing. Again I’m afraid that he might attack Quentin.

  “You misjudge me, young master,” he says.

  “Yeah, right,” Quentin says. “I know a dog when I see one.”

  “I shan’t waste time trying to convince you,” the prince says. “Your opinion does not matter in any case.”

  He smoothes his hands over his clothes and straightens his cape. His face becomes friendly again; he turns it toward me.

  “So, what is your answer, my lady?”

  What can I answer? My mind is a complete jumble. I think of Scarlett O’Hara in that Gone with the Wind movie being grabbed off her feet and carried upstairs by Rhett Butler. I think of Elvis Presley, singing and gyrating, while a mob of girls screams, fighting to get at him. All these guys with such tremendous power! And we girls doing whatever they want – even if we act like total idiots.

  Then I think of my great aunt Tania struggling through the snow on some frozen battlefield, looking for a place to set up her sniper position. Zeroing in on another invader. I don’t suppose too many men bossed her around. Nobody ever squashed her like an inconvenient bug.

  After what seems like an hour, I shake my head.

  The prince’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, then he frowns. Then he looks baffled. He is obviously not used to being turned down.

  “Thanks for asking.” My voice sounds far away, as if somebody else is talking. “I’m sure everything would be fascinating, for a while. But I can’t see myself fitting into that picture for long.”

  “This is unheard of,” the prince splutters. “Surely, you can’t mean to refuse!”

  “Sorry,” I reply, “I just feel there are other things to do with my life.”

  The ground is finally beginning to feel more solid under my feet.

  “But you must be the one.” The prince points to my medal. “Why else are you wearing the golden star of love?”

  I caress the warm gold.

  “Don’t be too sure about that,” I say. “A very dangerous lady passed this on to me. I doubt if she was your type.”

  He cocks an eyebrow.

  “Is that so?”

  Primping her hair, Melissa steps in front of me, almost knocking me aside.

  “If Amanda isn’t interested, I might be,” she says.

  The shock on the prince’s face says it all. Melissa shrinks back.

  I almost feel sorry for her. She’s actually quite good looking – on the outside. It’s only her personality that’s a disaster.

  The prince turns back to me and bows.

  “Farewell, then, my lady,” he says. “Should you change your mind, summon me in your heart and I will return.”

  He wraps his colorful cloak around himself and prepares to leap upwards, like Superman on TV.

  “Don’t keep me waiting too long, however,” he says.

  Then he is gone, a wispy figure zooming into the sky.

  20: Farewell

  Melissa gives me a pitying look, like I’ve just thrown my whole life down the drain.

  “You sure know how to push away a good thing with both hands, Amanda,” she says.

  “Perhaps you’re right,” I say. “Maybe ... I can’t explain ...”

  Melissa puts an arm around me. She drops her angry front, at last, and becomes the true friend I need. We stand together a minute, sharing feelings that only girls can understand. Then Quentin breaks the mood.

  “You know,” he says, “I liked that guy better when he was a frog.”

  “Yeah, he was kind of cool,” Tommy agrees. “At least we have pictures. Did you develop the film?”

  “Uh, yeah,” Quentin says.

  He pulls a roll of negatives from his pocket and holds them up. There are a few shots of the Atomic Kids fooling around, then a long empty strip, then Mrs. Kraft with her garden hose. The pictures we took of the frog are all blank!

  “What do you think of that?” Tommy says.

  “Not much,” Quentin answers.

  “Can I have that last negative?” I say. “I promised it to a friend.”

  Quentin takes out a jack knife and, with one quick pass, cuts off the negative of Mrs. Kraft.

  “Here you go, Amanda,” he says, handing me the negative.

  Of all the amazing things that have happened, this is the only evidence – along with my smashed pool, of course. Suddenly, I’m very tired, and I want to be alone. Melissa senses my mood.

  “Let’s go home, guys,” she says.

  “Call us when you’re feeling better,” Tommy says. “Maybe we can help fix your pool.”

  I stand alone for some time with my happiness and with my regrets, fidgeting with the negative. The sun begins climbing over the trees bringing the first heat of what promises to be another scorching day.

  “What I’d really like now is some rain!” I yell into the sky.

  Just like that, clouds rush to cover the sun, and the rain starts to pour.

  “Cool!” I say, and for the first time in weeks, it actually is.

  21: The Future Begins to Arrive

  I retreat to the patio. Rain pounds so hard on the metal awning that it sounds like a waterfall. The brown grass soaks up the water like a sponge until it has all turned green again. The trees and shrubs spring back to life.

  For the first time in my life I understand that I will one day be a grown up woman with my own future to decide. I’ve always
known this on some level, but now I grasp it fully.

  Life had always been like the weather to me – whatever it might be at the moment seemed like the permanent situation. Until today, I couldn’t imagine anything except heat and dryness, but now the wonderful rain has come.

  My future is arriving, and I am stepping into it.

  After more than an hour, the downpour finally stops. The smell of fresh greenness fills the air. I move out from under the awning. High above, a fantastic rainbow gleams – a perfect ring in the sky, with no ends fastening it to the ground.

  I can’t tear my eyes away. I just stand in the middle of a puddle, my head craned up, scarcely noticing the water soaking through my tennies. Then I sense somebody nearby.

  Grandma has come out in her bath robe and is also gazing upward. Her long, gray hair flows over her shoulders. The early sun changes it to a beautiful silver. Her face has softened, and a tear is rolling down her cheek. I’ve never noticed before how much Mom looks like her.

  I walk over.

  “Grandma?”

  She looks down at me, startled. Then a smile spreads across her face.

  “About last night – ” I begin.

  “Ah, child, say nothing more.” She puts an arm over my shoulder. “I can be such a foolish old woman sometimes.”

  We watch the rainbow a long time, enjoying the cool breeze playing over the revived land. Any wonderful thing seems possible on this bright new day.

  “This free American air!” Grandma takes a deep breath. “Refreshing, isn’t it?”

  I nod, hoping that time will stand still in this magical moment – but, of course it will move on. I wonder if the prince has any pull with the Deportation Man. Can he put in a good word for my Grandma and Grandpa?

  I could never call him back, though.

  Then again, who knows?

  Epilog

  The time before color TV could be very frightening because the United States and the Soviet Union were locked in a “Cold War.” More than once these two great nations came close to using nuclear weapons on each other.

  The United States and Russia, along with Britain, had smashed Nazi Germany during World War Two (Called the “Great Patriotic War” in Russia). Amanda’s grandmother may have overstated the facts, but it is true that Russia did the most fighting and suffered the worst losses in the struggle to save the world from Nazi tyranny.

  But once Hitler was defeated, the U.S. and Soviet Union did not get along. Fear and distrust increased greatly. Many people in the U.S. suffered because they had once been members of a communist party or were sympathetic to the Soviet Union.

  The Cold War lasted for many years. When it started, few people had TV of any kind. By the time it fizzled out, color television was everywhere.

  THE END