by Patrick Siniscalchi
As quickly as Kayla opened her eyes, the disturbing dreams fled her memory, yet the sense of unease remained. To comfort herself, she reached under the covers across the king-size bed to touch her husband. She reeled her hand back when, rather than the warmth of Nathan’s skin, she felt something cool, damp, and bumpy. Her body sprang into an upright seated position, and she yanked the covers off. Kayla let loose a scream and then stifled it with her hand, for where her husband of ten years should have been sat a large toad.
The greenish-brown amphibian regarded her, his eyes protruding like two half spheres. He took one hop closer and said, “Ribbit.” Her heart raced nearly as fast as his pulsating throat.
Kayla’s eyes went wide as she called out for her husband, who typically woke well after her, “Nathan. Nathan!” With each shout, the toad jumped closer, causing her to retreat and stumble off the bed. She hesitantly poked her head up above the edge of the mattress to find the toad had ventured to her side.
Keeping her stare fixed on this early morning intruder, she called toward the open bedroom door, “Nathan.” The house returned silence as the toad leaped nearer.
With their eyes level, he said, “Ribbit.”
Kayla tilted her head like a confused puppy. “Nathan?”
“Ribbit.”
“What the Hell?” Kayla had long wanted her husband to change back to the man she had married, the driven man who would run four miles before most rose from bed, who did considerate things without being asked, who didn’t hide in his man-cave most evenings—the man she fell in love with. She shook her head at her toad-husband. “This is not the change I wanted.” Kayla held his amphibious gaze. “Nathan, what happened?”
“Ribbit.”
“Great, it was bad enough when you stopped having meaningful discussions with me. Now I won’t even experience your trivial chats.”
As daylight swept into the bedroom, she searched her brain for the cause of this transformation. After a few moments, she said, “Maybe it was that Sylvia down the street. She always wears a witch costume at the Halloween block party.” Kayla chuckled. “The other women and I maintain it was one of her normal outfits, that she has a closet full of them. Several times, I caught her flirting with you.” Her tone grew soft, yet serious. “Nathan, did Sylvia do this to you?”
“Ribbit.”
“I knew it! That bitch, I mean witch!” He took a short hop backward. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Kayla reached out her hand, palm up, sliding up to his bulging belly. He hopped on, but since one rear leg dangled off, she brought her other hand under to support him. Gently, she stroked his side with her thumb. “There’s got to be a way to change you back.” Kayla fuzzily recalled a fairy tale from long ago about a toad turning back into a prince with a kiss. “I guess a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”
Kayla brought him up to her nose, closed her eyes, and pressed her lips to his cool mouth.
“Ribbit.”
“Oh, you want more. Okay.” She repeated the kiss over and over until she heard her husband’s voice.
“Hey Hon, I decided to get back into running this morning and ran at the park. Then I picked up bagels on the way home. Um, why are you kissing that frog?"
Patrick Siniscalchi is a former electrical engineer living in Asheville, North Carolina, with his wife and scruffy dog. His work has appeared in Bright Flash Literary Review, The Sunlight Press, Great Smokies Review, Suddenly And Without Warning, and others.
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