Read Online Jennifer Murdley's Toad (Magic Shop Books) by Bruce Coville - Free Book Online
Authors: Bruce Coville
Tags: Fiction, Children's Books, Juvenile Fiction, Action & Adventure - General, Magic, Fantasy & Magic, Ages 9-12 Fiction, Children: Grades 4-6, Children: Grades 3-4, toads
Ads: Link
room.
Jennifer and Bufo sat side by side on the top of Jennifer's dresser.
Sharra and Ellen were in Jennifer's bed. Somewhat to Jennifer's satisfaction, Sharra was snoring. Loudly.
Brandon lay on the floor next to them. He had wandered in about midnight, as he often did, clutching his blanket and his favorite pillow. Plunking himself down on the floor beside her bed, he had inserted one thumb in his mouth and immediately fallen into a deep and peaceful sleep.
Skippy was in his own room--maybe sleeping, maybe not. Jennifer hoped not. If there was any justice, his conscience would be keeping him awake.
Her parents were most likely asleep as well. They
82
had come in shortly after Brandon, counted heads, assumed the two kids in Jennifer's bed were Jennifer and Ellen, and gone to their own room.
"Bufo," whispered Jennifer, "are you asleep?"
"Merely resting my eyeballs," he replied, using the voice of W. C. Fields.
"Bufo, I'm so frightened."
Bufo opened his eyes. "I don't blame you, kid," he said. "I probably would be, too. But look at it this way: It's not a bad life, being a toad. You live off the land, go where you want. Work for a wizard now and then if you feel like it. As long as you watch out for snakes and other things that want to eat you, it has some real benefits."
"Were you always a toad?"
"From the moment I happened."
"Happened?" asked Jennifer. "Don't you mean hatched? Or meta ... meta ... you know, changed from a polliwog into a grown-up."
"Never was hatched," said Bufo. "Never metamorphosed from a tadpole. I'm one of the Immortal Vermin, and I just--happened."
"What do you mean?"
"It's a long story."
"You planning on going anywhere soon?" Jennifer asked, her voice stubborn.
Bufo sighed. "I suppose you have a right to hear it."
"Under the circumstances, I think that's true."
"All right. But if you want to hear it, settle down and listen. No interruptions."
83
Jennifer thought about pointing out that, of the two of them, Bufo was far more given to interrupting than she was. She decided she was more interested in getting the story than in having a manners contest, so she simply nodded her head and said, "No interruptions."
"All right," said Bufo, "Then here we go. Once upon a time--"
"Wait a minute, I want the real story," said Jennifer, "not some fairy tale."
"Most real stories start that way," said Bufo sharply. "And I guarantee you that this story is more real than your promise not to interrupt has turned out to be."
"Sorry," said Jennifer, angry at herself for letting Bufo lure her into an interruption so quickly. She had a sense that he was testing her.
"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, once upon a time there was a woman who lived in a forest. She had two daughters."
As Bufo spoke, Jennifer could hear him altering his voice, not in an imitation of anyone specific--at least, not anyone she could identify--but so that it had a storyteller's qualities. She could feel the words and the way he spoke them drawing her in. She decided to relax and enjoy the story and wait until later to decide if it was true.
"Now," continued Bufo, "one of these daughters was as good and as kind as anyone could wish, though she was surpassingly ugly. The other girl was vain, cruel, and foul-tempered, but she had a
84
face like a nightingale's song. Guess which one the mother loved the most?" Jennifer didn't speak.
"I said, guess which one the mother loved the most."
"I heard you!" said Jennifer. "I just didn't dare say anything because you told me not to interrupt."
"Don't be silly. Answering a question isn't the same as interrupting."
"Well, I thought you might be trying to trick me."
"What kind of a toad do you think I am?"
"That's what I'm trying to find out."
"Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you."
"Then tell me!"
"Then which one do you think the mother loved the most?"
"She loved the ugly one," said Jennifer hopefully.
"Don't be silly. She loved the pretty one."
"But
Jennifer and Bufo sat side by side on the top of Jennifer's dresser.
Sharra and Ellen were in Jennifer's bed. Somewhat to Jennifer's satisfaction, Sharra was snoring. Loudly.
Brandon lay on the floor next to them. He had wandered in about midnight, as he often did, clutching his blanket and his favorite pillow. Plunking himself down on the floor beside her bed, he had inserted one thumb in his mouth and immediately fallen into a deep and peaceful sleep.
Skippy was in his own room--maybe sleeping, maybe not. Jennifer hoped not. If there was any justice, his conscience would be keeping him awake.
Her parents were most likely asleep as well. They
82
had come in shortly after Brandon, counted heads, assumed the two kids in Jennifer's bed were Jennifer and Ellen, and gone to their own room.
"Bufo," whispered Jennifer, "are you asleep?"
"Merely resting my eyeballs," he replied, using the voice of W. C. Fields.
"Bufo, I'm so frightened."
Bufo opened his eyes. "I don't blame you, kid," he said. "I probably would be, too. But look at it this way: It's not a bad life, being a toad. You live off the land, go where you want. Work for a wizard now and then if you feel like it. As long as you watch out for snakes and other things that want to eat you, it has some real benefits."
"Were you always a toad?"
"From the moment I happened."
"Happened?" asked Jennifer. "Don't you mean hatched? Or meta ... meta ... you know, changed from a polliwog into a grown-up."
"Never was hatched," said Bufo. "Never metamorphosed from a tadpole. I'm one of the Immortal Vermin, and I just--happened."
"What do you mean?"
"It's a long story."
"You planning on going anywhere soon?" Jennifer asked, her voice stubborn.
Bufo sighed. "I suppose you have a right to hear it."
"Under the circumstances, I think that's true."
"All right. But if you want to hear it, settle down and listen. No interruptions."
83
Jennifer thought about pointing out that, of the two of them, Bufo was far more given to interrupting than she was. She decided she was more interested in getting the story than in having a manners contest, so she simply nodded her head and said, "No interruptions."
"All right," said Bufo, "Then here we go. Once upon a time--"
"Wait a minute, I want the real story," said Jennifer, "not some fairy tale."
"Most real stories start that way," said Bufo sharply. "And I guarantee you that this story is more real than your promise not to interrupt has turned out to be."
"Sorry," said Jennifer, angry at herself for letting Bufo lure her into an interruption so quickly. She had a sense that he was testing her.
"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, once upon a time there was a woman who lived in a forest. She had two daughters."
As Bufo spoke, Jennifer could hear him altering his voice, not in an imitation of anyone specific--at least, not anyone she could identify--but so that it had a storyteller's qualities. She could feel the words and the way he spoke them drawing her in. She decided to relax and enjoy the story and wait until later to decide if it was true.
"Now," continued Bufo, "one of these daughters was as good and as kind as anyone could wish, though she was surpassingly ugly. The other girl was vain, cruel, and foul-tempered, but she had a
84
face like a nightingale's song. Guess which one the mother loved the most?" Jennifer didn't speak.
"I said, guess which one the mother loved the most."
"I heard you!" said Jennifer. "I just didn't dare say anything because you told me not to interrupt."
"Don't be silly. Answering a question isn't the same as interrupting."
"Well, I thought you might be trying to trick me."
"What kind of a toad do you think I am?"
"That's what I'm trying to find out."
"Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you."
"Then tell me!"
"Then which one do you think the mother loved the most?"
"She loved the ugly one," said Jennifer hopefully.
"Don't be silly. She loved the pretty one."
"But
Similar Books
