by Ted Staunton
He laughs. I don’t.
Dad says, “Morgan, you’re lucky this way. The story seemed different to me, so I went back to the library. There’s another version of The Frog Prince — an older one with a different ending. If you want to see, the book is over there. Believe me, whatever happens, you’d like your ending better. And hey, you’re still the star. No one can make you look stupid.”
There is a library book on the kitchen table. I don’t look in it. Who cares? I don’t want something worse than even kissing, and Mrs. Ross isn’t going to change the play anyway.
I am taking another cookie when it hits me. Dad is right. I hand the cookie to him.
“Have a wart,” I say, in my best Kermit voice.
“Pardon?” he says.
Never mind. “Do frogs have thumbs?” I ask. I am the star. I am going to save the play. Aldeen Hummel is not going to make me look stupid. I can do things for myself.
9
Funny and Lovable
It’s Open House night. We have practised three more times and I have been boring. Tonight I am going to be so funny and lovable it will not matter if Aldeen does a wave-away-a-fart kiss. Everyone will thank me after.
We have our costumes on. Charlie has a beard and a crown. Aldeen has a purple princess dress. Her hair is tied back and she has a crown too. You can hardly tell it’s her except for her glasses. My costume is best. On top I wear a green garbage bag with black dots stuck on it for warts. It is split in the back to come off when I turn into a prince. Under it I have on green pants and a black shirt with a sash over my shoulder that says PRINCE. I also have a green toque that I pull off so Stephanie can stick a paper crown on my head. In my pocket is my fake-thumb trick, in case I need it.
I peek into the gym from behind the stage curtain and my stomach goes woogly. Lots of people are sitting there. My mom and dad are with Charlie’s parents and Aldeen’s mom and grandma.
Then the gym goes dark. The stage lights come on. Tracey goes out to start. As soon as Aldeen drops her ball, I swallow some air, hop onto the stage, and do a humongous ribbit burp. Aldeen jumps. Everybody laughs and I feel great. I’m the star; it’s going to work.
All the time everyone is saying their parts, I hop, ribbit, burp, make faces, hand out warts and do my Kermit voice. When we all have dinner, I catch flies. When I get the Princess’s pillow, I snore. How funny and lovable can you get?
Every time I get funnier and more lovable, though, Aldeen’s eyes squinch. Her face gets pink again and her noogie knuckle pops out.
Chantal hisses, “Cut it out!”
“Morgan-n-n-n,” Charlie whispers behind his beard.
Well, too bad; they’re just jealous. They should try harder. It’s their fault the audience isn’t laughing as much any more. I’m getting tired, but I go and hop around Aldeen as she talks. She’d never noogie me on stage; I’m too lovable.
And now we’re at the third wish. I’m on a roll. I do one more hop and say, Kermit-style, “My third wish is for a kiss. Ribbit, ribbit, ribbit.” Then I pucker up in a smoochy face, turn to Aldeen, open my arms, and yell, “Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me!” That isn’t in the script but, like I said, I’m on a roll.
Aldeen doesn’t kiss me. Instead — Pow! — she pounds me one, right in the stomach.
“Oof!” I land on my butt. The garbage bag splits; my frog toque pops off.
“GET LOST, YOU BOZO!” she yells. Then she stomps off.
10
The End of the End
There is total silence. Then everybody laughs and claps at once.
I stand up, holding my stomach under my PRINCE sash. It hurts; Aldeen is a hard puncher. The garbage bag has fallen off. Stephanie slaps the crown on my head.
Mrs. Ross shoves Aldeen back onstage beside me. Her tied-back hair has popped loose. Her crown is crooked and so are her glasses. She still has her fist ready, but she looks as if she’s going to cry.
But when she comes out, everybody claps even harder. Tracey yells, “And they lived happily ever after!” No one hears. They are too busy standing up, still clapping. Now they are cheering too. It’s a standing O. Mom and Dad are clapping with Charlie’s parents and Aldeen’s mom. Aldeen’s grandma is pumping her fist in the air. Wha-a-at?
Mrs. Ross signals us to bow. We all do. It hurts my stomach. I also bump Aldeen. She jumps away and up pops her noogie knuckle. There is more laughing and clapping.
The gym lights come on. Grownups come over to talk.
“Great acting,” Mom says. “And a surprise ending! I couldn’t understand why you were being so wild and silly, but with that ending it all made sense.”
Huh? Before I can think, Aldeen’s grandma crows,
“Ya got a good left, there Aldie.”
Then Dad is saying to Mrs. Ross, “Cool! You put the old and new stories together.”
Mrs. Ross smiles, sort of. You can tell that now it’s her turn to think, Huh?
Dad explains. “The endings. In the story most of us know, the Princess kisses the frog. Morgan was worried about that one, heh, heh, heh. But in the old version of the story, the Frog bugs the Princess so much that she gets mad and throws him at a wall and he turns into the Prince.” Dad turns to me. “I just never knew Morgan could be so good at bugging people.” He hugs me to show he’s kidding. I think.
I also think I am beginning to get it. Oh, boy. So much for funny and loveable.
Mrs. Ross says, “The ending was all Morgan and Aldeen. They’re quite a team.”
A team? Just a — I open my mouth. I look at Aldeen. She looks at me. My stomach still hurts. I close my mouth.
A newspaper guy wants to take a picture of us acting the end.
Aldeen straightens her crown. “How many times do you want me to hit him?”
The man laughs. “We’ll see. Look surprised,” he says to me.
I don’t even have to act.
What else is Morgan up to?
Here’s a look at what happens when Morgan signs up for soccer in Great Play, Morgan!
1
Soccer Genius
“Impossible! Impossible! Land it on the rail! Five-Oh! Go! NOOOOOO!”
Charlie wipes out his board again. Charlie has so many sports trophies it looks like he won the Olympics, but hey, you can’t be good at everything. I’m better at skateboarding. Well, not skateboarding skateboarding. I stink at that. What we’re doing is video game skateboarding.
I’m a pro at that. It’s better anyway — you can eat while you’re playing.
Charlie hands me the controller. As I start my turn, he says, “Did you decide about soccer yet?”
Oh yeah. Soccer. Charlie wants me to sign up with him. His dad will be coaching the team. “Hang on,” I say. I’m reverse grinding along the edge of a skyscraper roof. Right, right, left, down, down, hold on, up, up, upupUP! My fingers are flying. I’m flying. I can do anything. How hard can kicking a ball be, compared to this? Plus Charlie says they have freezies and snacks after every game.
“Sure,” I say, “I’m gonna sign up.”
“Great,” says Charlie.
“Wonderful!” says my mom, looking into the family room. I face-plant into a dumpster. I have three thousand points and a new sport.
* * *
After supper, I dig a ball out of the garage and go over to the schoolyard. I figure I’d better try soccer while no one’s around. I’ve never really played it because I don’t like to run that much. But who knows? Maybe I’m a soccer genius.
Or maybe not. My first kick blops along the ground. The second one, I miss. The third one connects. The ball takes off and rattles the fence. Oh, yeah! I shake my fists and do a little jump. My winning goal will be like that.
“Whutcha doin?” a voice asks. I jump again. Aldeen Hummel, the Godzilla of Grade Three, is st
anding behind me. Where the heck did she come from?
“Um,” I say, “playing soccer.”
Aldeen squinches up her eyes behind her smudgy glasses. Her witchy hair bounces.
“You should try it,” I say, just to say something.
She puts her hands on her hips. “What for?”
Aldeen always makes me nervous, and when I get nervous, I blabber. I tell her all the stuff Charlie told me: the uniform you get, how everybody comes to watch and how you get a trophy after the tournament, plus the snacks and freezies.
“You should try it,” I say.
Aldeen grunts and shuffles off. I figure I’m lucky. Sometimes when Aldeen gets bored she belts you. But I’m wrong about luck. And about being bored. When I go out for first practice, Aldeen Hummel is standing by the soccer balls.
Text copyright © 2011, 2008 Ted Staunton
Illustration copyright © 2011, 2008 Bill Slavin
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Formac Publishing Company Limited acknowledges the support of the Cultural Affairs Section, Nova Scotia Department of Tourism, Culture and Heritage. We acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund for our publishing activities.
We acknowledge the support of the Canada Council for the Arts for our publishing program.
Cataloguing in Publication data is available from Library and Archives Canada
This digital edition first published in 2011 as 978-0-88780-169-3
Originally published in 2008 as 978-0-88780-744-2
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Halifax, NS B3H 1G4
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