A wake-time story
Not written by AI but by AK
By Angeline Koh, January 1992. Updated 2024
Joey, the teenage bull frog lived in an Earthen Pot called Soupapore. Joey was an average frog with his everyday dreams, just like every one of his froggy friends. He completed his “A” levels. In a few months, Joey like all good citizens would serve his country. He had dreams of entering the NUS, ie. The Nations University of Soupapore to get a degree in Law. That’s what his parents wanted anyway.
While waiting for his results, Joey got himself a job serving as a waiter in the Western Hotel, a mighty prestigious hotel indeed. He was hoping to save up for his Reebeek flippers and his Orange iphone. He dreamt, “Someday, I will buy me a five room executive cranny and have me a wife and 30,000 tadpoles.” Joey was after all just an average teenage frog.
There were days when the pressure was up. Soupapore did seem to warm up a little hotter than usual. They said it was worldwide warming. But this didn’t seem to happen very often. Being an amphibian Joey adapted well. Sometimes Joey and his friends would even take advantage of the heat to have a sauna.
Little did Joey know however that outside the Pot lived an old cook. Some knew him as Ol’ Crook. Now Ol’ Crook lived up to his name. He had nothing but evil intentions of turning little frogs like Joey into his all time favourite Frog Stew.
“The secret recipe to good old Frog Stew,” Ol’ Crook remarked as he rubbed his hands together in glee, “is to spice it up with coupons and free cash, a gold card, a cell phone, some university degrees, job security, and yes, savings for the future… then let it simmer. Bring it to the boil, nice and s-l-o-w. Yum.” He grinned his crooked grin, as he smelled the brewing of little frogs. It was not just the taste that brought him pleasure, but the sight of little frogs writhing in pain as they slowly adapted to the boil that brought him sheer delight. He was evil!
On one of the days when Joey couldn’t bear the pressure any longer, he hopped so hard that he hopped right out of Pot. Fortunately for him, Ol’ Crook did not see him.
“Wow! This is really weird. Where am I? The Pot was all the world that Joey knew about. Being the curious teen that he was, Joey explored his strange new discovery. From a corner, he watched Ol’ Crook fanning the flames, mixing up his concoctions, preparing the dinner table. It made no sense to Joey. He got tired watching the senseless activity and decided to explore further. So he happily hopped along. The weather was a lot cooler. He felt so free.
“Hmm! That’s strange. What’s that I hear?” Joey stopped. He seemed to hear the sound of happy flippers pitter-pattering.
“Reebeet! Hello!” softly croaked a frog from behind him.
“Oooh!” hopped Joey. “You gave me a fright.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you by creeping up on you, but we do need to watch out for Ol’ Crook.”
“Ol’ Crook?” asked Joey.
“You don’t know about Ol’ Crook? Why he makes little frogs like us into stew!”
“STEW?!”
“Shh… not so loud! My name is Isaiah by the way.”
“Isaiah? What kind of a name is that for a frog? Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. My name’s Joey. Tell me more about Ol’ Crook.”
“Shh… not here. He’s got his spies everywhere. Follow me.”
Isaiah led Joey to a garden-like place. Isaiah told Joey that this was The Garden. “Garden is a happy place – lots of frog friends, lots of space, cool fresh air and um! Organic fly food! (In fact Joey had lapped a few on his way there). Garden-Keeper takes good care of us.”
“No one has to compete.” Isaiah further explained. Joey noticed that they all seemed to be croaking to a different tune; not the humdrum of the frog-race that Joey had become all too familiar with.
“Isaiah’s such a contented frog.” Joey thought.
Isaiah took time to explain all about The Garden and the Garden-Keeper. Joey’s eyes grew wider and wider as he heard horror stories about Ol’ Crook.
Beep! Beep!
“Oh no! I’d better be getting back into Soupapore,” cried Joey as his watch alarm went off. “It’s almost dinner. Mum’s expecting me. I’ve a water ballet class after dinner you know. Personal enrichment,” he explained proudly as he turned toward Pot.
“Hey! Wait a minute Joey. Haven’t you learnt anything from all that I’ve been telling you? There’s not going to be dinner. If you go back, YOU are going to be dinner!” Isaiah exclaimed urgently.
“Oh stop it Isaiah! That was a nice fairy tale you just told me. You are a good storyteller I must say. But I really do need to be getting back. I’ll be back tomorrow and we can play some more then. It’s been nice meeting you. Goodbye. Thanks for showing me around.”
Isaiah wept silently as he watched little Joey plop back into Earthen Pot.