Peanut Butter Hill

A spy, taken prisoner, is released.

While in the midst of maneuvering his army of plastic toy soldiers on a battlefield of dirt clods and divots, nine-year-old Richie Hollings happened upon a toad. The toad was small, but larger than any of the soldiers who were engaged in fierce combat to take Peanut Butter Hill: a strategic plot of ground positioned between two small shrubs in Mrs. Hollings’ garden.

The toad was a drab shade of olive green in color and its back was speckled with gold-colored warts: the uniform of a spy. Unaware he was nothing more than a toad, the enemy spy was quickly captured and taken to headquarters. After a short interrogation to which the tight-lipped prisoner of war remained silent, General Hollings ordered Toad have a special tracking device implanted for the purpose of keeping tabs on his future movements.

The prisoner was transported to the field operations hospital, Richie’s bedroom, where surgery was immediately scheduled. Extreme caution and state-of-the-art medical equipment were utilized to exercise the complicated surgical procedure. The task of performing the implantation was assigned to the number one specialist in the field of secret device implantation surgery: Doctor Richard Hollings.

Dr. Hollings administered the anesthesia: a cotton ball saturated with lighter fluid and placed it over Toad’s nose for a period of five minutes. Satisfied his patient was sedated, Dr. Hollings swabbed the area where the incision was to be made with rubbing alcohol to kill any germs that might be present. Dr. Hollings proceeded to sterilize his scalpel: a razor blade, by holding it over the flame of a lit match. With doctor and patient now ready, the surgery began.

Dr. Hollings opened Toad by forcing the scalpel in short cutting strokes into his underbelly. With competent dexterity, a three-inch incision was made. A pair of needle nose pliers was used to retract the gristly hide. Utilizing the same pair of pliers, Dr. Hollings implanted the tracking device: a penny, into the body cavity of the unfortunate prisoner of war. The incision was sutured with needle and thread purloined from Mrs. Hollings’ sewing box, and a liberal swabbing of iodine applied. Toad was taken to ICU: a shoebox, to recover. The day following surgery, Toad sat in ICU, moving very little. His recovery, however, was rapid.

On the fifth day following surgery, the spy attempted a daring escape from the confines of ICU by climbing the south wall. Luckily, Lieutenant Hollings was able to foil the attempted breakout. Toad was transferred to maximum security: a birdcage, less bird for the remainder of his convalescence. After a month in captivity, a fully recovered Toad, with the secret tracking device in place, was released into the wilds of Richie’s backyard. Toad promptly vanished from sight into the lush vegetation of Mrs. Hollings’ garden.

From time to time, Richie would search the garden for the toad, always hoping it would be alive and hopping. With time, Richie’s search for the elusive toad became less and less frequent.

As the years passed, feelings of guilt over what he had done to an innocent animal plagued Richie in the form of nightmares: armies of giant toads chased him. Each toad held a razor blade and a can of lighter fluid. Richie, so ashamed of his torturous deed, never told anyone what he had done.

Yesterday, while riding his bicycle home from school, Richie happened upon a dead toad in the street; the unfortunate victim of a hit and run. Richie stopped at the place where the dead toad met his maker. Although the toad was flat in the road, it looked familiar to Richie; it had unusual gold-colored warts on its back. In a voice exuding a degree of puzzlement, Richie stammered, “Toad, is that you?”

Richie let fall his bicycle, and bending down on both knees, leaned his head closer to the road-killed toad. Richie flipped the dead animal to reveal a three-inch long scar on its underside. Tears began to well, and soon they were streaming down Richie’s cheeks. With mournful hesitation to accept the dead toad’s fate, Richie whispered, “Oh, Toad, it is you.”

As Richie gazed at Toad, the memory of that time so many years ago flashed anew. A smile of acceptance, slight as it was, acted as a buffer for Richie’s falling tears; Toad had survived. The guilt feelings that a young boy carried into his mid-teens began to lessen. Richie lifted Toad from the street, wrapped him in a sheet of notebook paper, and placed him in his backpack. Richie then swung his leg over the bar of his bicycle and swiftly pedaled home.

Toad was laid to rest at the site where the battle for Peanut Butter Hill took place. A red brick with TOAD scratched on its surface serves as its marker. The tracking device was left in place.

WC: 806