Chapter 8

Chapter eight, We ran all the way to the corner of 78th and Amsterdam Avenue. It's only half a block away, but it seemed like a hundred miles because I was so worried about Fred. When we got there, Mr. Park was outside his grocery store, putting water into the buckets that held all the flowers for sale. He looked at the three of us wearing rubber gloves and carrying our supplies. "Are you going fishing?" he asked with a laugh. "No, Mr. Park," I answered seriously. "We're going frogging." He looked puzzled. "I've never heard of this sport," he said. "It's not a sport," Ashley explained. "We're

on a mission to find a lost tree frog named Fred." "You didn't happen to see him hopping by, did you?" Frankie asked. "I see many strange things on this corner. I see dogs wearing red boots. I see ladies wearing the same boots. I see children with shoes that light up. But one thing I don't see is frogs." Mr. Park went back to watering his flowers, and we gathered around the puddle to check it out. The puddle had started out pretty big, but it was getting even bigger from Mr. Park's watering hose. If we stepped in it, it would probably come up to our ankles. "So what's your plan, frog finders?" Papa Pete asked. "First, we check it out with our eyes," I said. Frankie, Ashley, and I all stared down into the puddle.

"Anybody see anything frog-like?" I asked. "Does a green leaf count?" Frankie said. "No." "Then I don't see anything." "So now we have to use our nets," Ashley said, pulling the strainer out of the shopping bag. She put the strainer at the edge of the puddle and pulled it through the water. I could

hear the metal scraping against the pavement. "Look what I found!" she exclaimed. "Is it Fred?" Frankie and I asked at the same time. "No. A nickel." Papa Pete laughed. "This frog search pays well," he said. "Find another nickel and you can buy yourself a gumball." Ashley continued to scrape her strainer around the edges of the puddle. She found a soggy candy wrapper, a gray pebble, and half a yellow crayon. "If Fred is in here, I think he'd be in the deeper part of the puddle," I said. "In the middle. I'm going to use my net. It has a longer handle." I took a step or two into the puddle. "Don't get yourself wet, Hankie," Papa Pete warned. "Don't worry," I told him. "I have my boots on." I leaned over and held my net out as far as

it would go. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw something move. Could it be Fred? My heart started to race, and I reached out to dip my net into the water. WHOMP! Before I knew what had happened, I was facedown in the puddle. When I looked up, I saw a French poodle in a pink sweater zooming by me. "What happened?" I said. "That little dog cut you off at the knees,"

Frankie said, laughing so hard he was almost crying. "Fifi!" a woman called. "Get back here at once. Look what you did to that nice young man." Fifi zoomed by me again, dashing through the puddle and splashing me in the face. Now it was Ashley's turn to laugh. "I'm sorry, Hank," she said, trying to control herself. "It's just that you look so funny sprawled out in that puddle." "It's a good thing Fred isn't in there, or you would have crushed him Frankie added. Papa Pete reached his big, strong hand out to me. "Let's get you out of there," he said. "You're soaked." When I stood up, I was covered with puddle water. "Look, there's hardly any water left on the pavement," Frankie said. "The puddle's all over you." "Check your pockets for Fred," Ashley