“Seriously?”
Georgia nodded.
As a candy connoisseur herself, Sylvie understood the attraction.The crunch layer of sugar and chewy fruity center is delicious.
Georgia tossed the Mento end of the string deep into the vent. “They tend to like the orange ones best.”
“I get it,” said Sylvie, “that sweet-and-sour citrus tang.”
“Exactly!” Georgia cupped her hands back over her mouth and chirped. A noise like a bow pulling on violin strings echoed out. Sylvie thought she heard the thump of feet moving closer. The cord gave a wriggle.
Georgia slowly reached into the vent. “Gotcha!” A broad-faced frog squirmed in her hands, the Mento clasped tightly between its lips.
Sylvie did a double take. “It actually worked!”
“Told ya!” Georgia shoved the roll back into her pocket and gave it a pat. “Yet another reason to always keep a supply of candy in your pocket.”
Sylvie stroked the chirping frog. “And here I thought Mentos were only good for making soda geysers.”
Georgia laughed. “Mentos and a bottle of Coke definitely feels like magic.”
“Yup!” Sylvie had learned about soda geysers on an episode ofFreaky Food Facts.“I guess sometimes all you really need for a spell is a bit of science. So, what do we do with this guy?”
Georgia lifted the frog into the air, inspecting it more closely. “We should take him back to the garden. Then, we can finish cleaning up this mess.”
Sylvie was about to say, “Okay,” when the door of the food truck opened.
Kitty materialized, wearing her trademark frazzled expression. “Georgia? Sylvie?” She moved closer, squinting around the room. “I’d hoped after your fight you would’ve had a change of heart. Learning to work together is a critical part of the Brindille curriculum. But this place is still a mess!”
“We were working together,” said Sylvie. “But then we heard—”
“It’s my fault,” said Georgia. “I got distracted.”
“I’m disappointed.” Kitty stared unhappily. “Sounds like more excuses. What could be more important than proving to me that you two don’t need to spend eternity scrubbing pots and pans together? I hope this distraction wasn’t another argument.”
“No. Honest, it wasn’t,” said Georgia, lifting the frog. “We were rescuing this guy.”
“He got stuck in the vent,” Sylvie added.
Kitty pulled a thin-framed pair of spectacles from her enormous sagging pocket and muttered, “Death… . Resurrection.Could it be?”
The frog let out a throaty chirp.
Kitty gaped at him. “A soul … reborn again. Jingles is atoad!”
Georgia clutched the squirming frog. “Actually, Jingles isn’t a toad.”
Kitty stared at Georgia, wide-eyed. “I have studied Samsara. Life continues.Thatis my Jingles.”
Sylvie glanced nervously at Georgia. This wasn’t the time to question Kitty’s beliefs.
“Errr, of course,” said Georgia. “What I’m trying to say is, this is a frog.”
“My baby is a frog?”
Georgia nodded. “See, frogs and toads differ in several—”
Sylvie elbowed her in the ribs.
