Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12 Charlie's shouts brought Mama and Papa out the back door. Charlie stood there, pointing. "They're… fffffrogs!" Small brown frogs. The kind they always saw in the grass or the fishing creeks or the street gutters after an overflow. There was nothing weird

about seeing frogs—even three or four at once. But there were hundreds here! "Goodness!" Mama said. "Look at that!" Papa said. "I'm sure they're just trying to get off the wet ground. This rain is really coming down."

Papa wasn't worried, and even Mama just shook her head. "Go quickly and come right back," she said to Charlie. Charlie went into the privy and tried not to think about how many frogs might be watching him. He did his business—quick—and hurried inside. He went into his room and closed the door. He had to change again. Could this day get any weirder? He just wanted this storm to end. He decided to take Papa's advice and get into bed. He lay there a long time—it seemed like hours. But he couldn't fall asleep. So finally he cracked open his Meraki book. He turned to a random page and started reading about a young magician Meraki had met in New York City. His name was Harry Houdini. He calls himself an escape artist, and he has a remarkable act. He can free himself from any rope or chain, no matter how tightly it is knotted. I am

certain he uses no blade or any tool. He wouldn't tell his secret. But he did say one must not panic or struggle when trying to get free from a rope. That will only make a knot tighter. Whoooooosh! Wow! That was a big gust. The whole house shook. Charlie put the book down. Even Meraki couldn't distract him from this storm. And it made him nervous lying here alone. He found Mama and Papa in the sitting room. Mama was mending Charlie's torn trousers. Papa was now sorting through his box of nails. It was barely three o'clock, but it was so dark outside they'd lit the lanterns. "Gingersnaps are done," Mama said, pointing to a small plate on the coffee table. "Help yourself." Charlie felt too queasy to eat one. He went to the front window and peered out. Through the thick curtain of rain, he saw the dark steel-gray clouds tumbling around in the sky. They

hung so low Charlie felt like he could reach up and grab one. Whooooooosh! The house shook, even harder than before. But Mama and Papa didn't even look up from their work. Charlie peered out into the street. To his surprise, he saw rushing water. Had he ever seen so much water in the street in front of their house? Not that he could remember. "Papa," he said. "There's a lot of water in the street." Papa glanced up from his nails. "Makes sense, son," he said. "I haven't seen it rain this hard in years. I'll bet there are some pretty big puddles out there." Charlie looked harder at the street. The water didn't look like a bunch of puddles. It looked like… a river. He imagined that Sarah was right next to him. He heard her voice in his head.

Think about it… where could that water be coming from? Before Charlie even knew what he was doing, he had rushed out the front door. "What are you—" Mama called as the door closed behind him. There were more little brown frogs out here, all over the front porch. They seemed to stare at Charlie as he carefully made his way down the porch steps, trying not to slip. He pushed against the wind and stepped onto the street. He was shocked to find himself in water halfway up his thighs. It was rushing so fast Charlie almost fell over. This definitely was not a puddle. The wind and rain raked at Charlie's face. His heart pounded. What is happening? And then he had an idea, something Sarah would definitely do. He dipped his finger in the water, stuck it in his mouth.