Twinkle Talk
As dusk settled over the trees and shadows crawled across the water and grasses, grasshoppers chirped and fireflies began to glow, the usual serenity slowly returned to the swamp. It had been an exciting day, and some frogs were reluctant to let the excitement slip away.
“C’mon, kids. Time for bed.”
“Awww…”
“But MOOOOM!”
“No buts! You need your sleep. C’mon now.”
“Five more minutes?”
“Please?”
“PLEEEASE?”
“C’mon now, kids. Listen to your mother.”
“Yes, listen to your Aunt Molly,” another adult frog said, approaching the cluster of young frogs. “You should all be in bed now. C’mon.”
“But—“
“But!”
“But…”
But with a heavy sigh, the little ones all had to allow themselves to be herded off by their respective parents.
“Off to bed, off to bed… C’mon now… You too, Robin.”
Robin straightened up importantly, still sitting on a stone as the rest of the clump dispersed around him. “But Dad, I
can’t go to sleep
now,” he protested.
“Of course you can. All of your brothers and sisters are,” his father reasoned. “See? There they go.” He watched as all the other frogs were led away.
Robin shook his head. “But I
can’t sleep right
now, Dad. I can
never sleep right at bedtime on my first day back at the swamp.”
“Oh…” His father hesitated a moment. “…You
do usually have trouble, don’t you…” His son wasn’t quite old enough to call it jet lag yet. But, then again… it didn’t always involve a jet.
“I
always have trouble,” Robin insistently corrected.
His father frowned thoughtfully. “…Well… Still, we can’t let you stay up later than your brothers and sisters. That isn’t fair. C’mon. We’ll get you some warm milk, and you can count sheep until you fall asleep.”
“But there aren’t any sheep here,” Robin said.
“Okay, then, count, uh… the stars,” his father suggested, looking up at the sky.
Robin looked up, too. “They’re not all out yet.”
“Well, by the time we get you some warm milk, and get you to bed…”
“But I don’t
want warm milk,” Robin said.
His father sighed and lightly rubbed the side of his head. “Robin…”
“I don’t really wanna count the stars, either. Dr. Honeydew says that’s impossible,” the little frog went on. “Except with one of his gadgets, but Uncle Kermit says not to touch those.”
“That’s… probably a good thing,” his father said. “But listen, Robin, it really is time for bed now, and—“
“But I
can’t go to sleep
now, Dad!”
Another sigh. “Why
not, Robin?”
“Because if I go to sleep now, the story’s
over!”
“…Alright, you’ve got a point there,” his father finally conceded. “But don’t stay out
too late…”
“I won’t! I promise,” the six-ounce frog said excitedly.
“And you have to go to bed on time tomorrow night.”
“I will.”
“And if your mother asks, I had
nothing to do with this.”
“Okay, Dad.”
“I’ll be back to check on you,” his father said, and he shook his head as he quietly plodded his way through the grasses.
“…I wonder if that’ll work on Uncle Kermit, too,” Robin mused to himself, and he looked up at the darkening sky.
Uncle Kermit had brought him to the swamp earlier that day… and had already left again to go work on his first big movie. Robin was going to be in this movie, too… a little… but he didn’t need to be there for a while yet.
He missed Uncle Kermit a little already, but he liked coming back to the swamp. His brothers and sisters and cousins and friends all had all sorts of questions for him about the movie, and about the show, and all the big stars he got to meet. Whenever Robin first got back to the swamp, he was like a celebrity to everyone else… especially when Uncle Kermit wasn’t there. Uncle Kermit was a
real celebrity.
Pretending to be a celebrity was fun, too. It meant that he got a little spoiled when he first got back to the swamp. For example, he had gotten to be first in line for dinner tonight, and he’d gotten two pieces of Grandma’s Fly-Shoe Pie.
He was very,
very full.
He was so full, in fact, that he didn’t even have room for a nice
light snack like those fireflies over there. He watched them blink their little lights on and off, and on and off, and on and off, as they flew around and slowly, slowly drifted closer to him.
“…I wonder why they light up like that,” he quietly mused.
The biggest firefly—which was still pretty small, being a firefly—rapidly flickered its light, and the bugs darted a few feet away from him.
“Oh, don’t go away!” Robin said quietly. “I won’t eat you. I promise! I’m not hungry at all.”
The bugs warily hovered, still keeping their distance. Their little lights blinked… seemed to take turns blinking.
He watched in fascination. “You’re really pretty,” he said softly. “…Why do you do that, with your lights? Why not just shine all the time? Or at least when it’s dark…”
The biggest one flew a little bit closer—just a little bit—and very slowly blinked, on and off, on and off. The other bugs still flickered behind it.
“…Do you get tired if you leave them on all the time?” Robin wondered. “Or… do you
like to blink… I think it’s pretty when you blink.”
The fireflies hovered a little higher and all blinked their lights together, longer blinks and shorter blinks, in perfect unison.
Robin’s jaw dropped in amazement as he stared. “Wow… that’s
really pretty!” he said. “You’re really organized, too. You could be an act on Uncle Kermit’s show! …I wonder why you did that…”
“Oh, for
crying out
loud,” a squeaky little voice said as the biggest firefly came and landed on a nearby leaf. “
Don’t you know
Morse code?”
Robin felt his eyes get bulgier. “You can
talk?” he whispered, staring at the bug.
“Yeah, yeah, we can talk. Now do ya know Morse code or
not, kid?”
Robin shook his head. “What’s Morse code?”
“See? I
told ya, Dom. These frogs don’t teach their kids
anything,” another, squeakier firefly said, flying closer.
“Don’t say it right in
front of him, Berta!” the big one—Dom, apparently—scolded. “Be
polite. And stay back, would ya? Who
knows how long his tongue is.”
Robin shook his head. “I won’t eat you. I told you. I’m full,” he said quietly. “I’m Robin.”
“…Oh boy. It’s worse than I thought,” Dom said. “Listen, kid, you’re not a robin. In fact, you’re not a bird at all. You’re a
frog.”
Robin scrunched his face, just as his uncle was prone to do. “I know I’m a frog. My
name is Robin.”
“Your
name is Robin. Alright. Ya had me worried for second there,” Dom said. “I’m Dom, and the daredevil behind me is Berta.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Robin said.
“Yeah… sure,” Dom said suspiciously. “Anyway… The blinkin’ we do is all Morse code.”
“But what’s Morse code?” Robin asked.
“I know what it is! I know! Can I tell him?” one little firefly squeaked, looping around erratically as it flew a little closer. Robin guessed it was about the firefly equivalent of trying not to jump out of your chair when you raised your hand at school.
“Yes, Ace, you can tell him,” Berta said. “But don’t get
any closer to him.”
Ace cleared his still and hovered in one spot. “Morse code,” he recited, “Is a system of short and long sounds or blinks, used to represent letters and numbers.”
“Yes. That’s exactly right,” Berta said.
“…So… it’s a way to talk?” Robin asked.
“Right. Okay, he gets it,” Dom said, and he flew off of his leaf. “So, we’ll see ya—“
“It’s
really fun!” Ace said excitedly. “Wanna learn?”
“Sure!”
The other fireflies sighed collectively, sinking slightly in the air.
“Alright, everyone. Pop a squat,” Dom said, settling on the leaf again, and the fireflies all found various leaves to sit on—still keeping a safe distance from Robin.
Ace remained in the air. “This is A,” he said, and he blinked his light twice, the second time longer than the first.
“Ohh…”
“No,
A,” Ace said, and he repeated the two blinks.
“…I wish
I had a light,” Robin said quietly.
“Remember it works with
sounds, too,” Dom said from his leaf. “You can tap it with your hand or something. Try A.”
Robin hesitantly lifted his hand and tapped the ground twice.
“There y’go,” Dom said. “Alright, someone show ‘im B.”
Robin very carefully studied the little lights as the fireflies took turns showing him each letter. He tapped his hand against the ground, and practiced a few words…
“Robin?” a quiet voice called.
“Who’s that?” Dom asked.
Robin sadly glanced towards the voice. “That’s my dad,” he said.
“Alright, then we gotta split,” Dom said.
“But—but we’re only on G!” Robin said.
Dom sighed. “If ya
really wanna learn, kid… we’ll keep an eye out for a little frog by himself at night, alright? Just make sure to tap for us. You frogs all look the same.”
Dom’s light blinked, and the fireflies all vanished with a tiny “Bye Robin!” from Ace.
“Robin?” the quiet voice called again.
The little frog sighed. “Over here, Dad,” he quietly called back.
His father emerged from the surrounding grasses. “You should
really be in bed now,” he said quietly. “What’ve you been up to for so long?”
“I was talking to the fireflies,” Robin explained as he followed his father. “They’re teaching me Morse code.”
“…Right,” his father said. “…Well, I’m glad you had fun.”
From then on, when Robin was in the swamp, he tried to separate himself from the other frogs when the fireflies came out. He would tap his fingers against a rock or a tree, and Dom, Berta, Ace, and all the others would somehow find him. He learned the entire alphabet, and studied it until he could communicate with the fireflies entirely with little taps and blinks.
And when he wasn’t in the swamp, after Uncle Kermit had tucked him in, when he was alone in his room, his fingers on the bed sheets tapped the tales that fireflies told with their twinkling talk.
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Love his line about Dr. Honeydew and Uncle Kermit, and his dad's responce.
