A Little Frog's Heart: The First Steps Towards Maturity

A Jailhouse Story II-3

I wanted my lines to reach mother. It was the beginning of the year and I would have loved very much to know that her mind was at rest with regard to myself. I was assured her that, when I had a little free time, I would of course go home on holiday, to see her…

Then I went quickly to my bed. I undressed, took my shoes off and nestled in it thinking that I would fall asleep as soon as possible. I wanted to have strength in the evening, to continue my story. When I closed my eyes. I felt the wind immediately getting into my hair, starting to count strand by strand. He was counting slowly, so that he wouldn’t disturb me. I heard his whistling whispers and I let myself be caught in their enchantment. I let him play with my strands of hair, with my nose, with my ears… and so, enchanted by him, I fell asleep. This was the first time that I was falling asleep happy in that cursed cell with its cold concrete walls, as immobile as stones.

I slept for the whole day… And I had a strange dream:

It was as if I had managed to escape from prison with the help of a giant flock of cranes. It was as if I had returned to my native land, in the midst of my family. I felt myself to be free of cares and headaches, and I was telling everyone charmingly about the beauties of France, because I was not going to tell then I had just run away from prison:

“Imagine the most beautiful woman,” I was saying to my relatives. “And she is not just beautiful, on top of it all she also has the secret of the elixir of youth! Her delicate body exhales through every pore the intoxicating perfume of this magic liquor… Imagine the charm of music without equal, in whose rhythms the Elixir envelops the beautiful Girl, waving cunningly along that architectural body, dodging fearfully the always alert eye of the vulture who lords it over the heights… The meandering leads to her rich, delicate, shining hair, washed by the foam of the tumultuous waves, where the Elixir of Youth is cradled, feeling itself to be safe…

In this way I was describing another life to them, ruled by the essence of pleasure and richness, sketching out the contours of the luxurious existence in this beautiful country…

“When the wind unfurls the golden threads of her rich hair,” I continued, imagining France for them as a beautiful, spoiled young woman, “and spreads it over her perfect body, it makes her so provocative that in the summer, when the rays of the sun caress her thighs, the body of this lass is transformed into a treasury with shining precious stones! Tourists from all over the world, attracted by the mirage, come to see the jewels which are arranged in her rich chest. They represent castles full of history of the civilisation, which keep secret many life experiences, and were many times stained by innocent blood.

“Immense mountain chains crowned these castles for centuries, adorning the lands full of poetry, placed there by the Lord to protect them… They stay there proud, with their foreheads bathed by the Sky, waiting the strong drops of rain as a blessing that would wash away the bloody sins committed during the times.”

I was talking like this to my family, in my dream, describing France with boundless enthusiasm, as if I was speaking about the place where I myself had been born! But in the moment where my speech was at its most ardent, a tomcat, black in colour jumped into my arms from the roof of the house. It was a wild tomcat, which started to scratch my chest with its claws, until he drew blood! He was furious, as if I had stolen an object of great price, and now he had discovered me, wanted to take it back.

I got scared. I was trying with all my might to make it go away, I wanted to defend myself, but I couldn’t. With unimaginable force, the tomcat plunged its claws in my chest, and, grabbing my heart, started to pluck it out. He had vanquished me!

Overwhelmed, I had stopped fighting, and I was looked into his green eyes:

“Why don’t you leave me in peace? What do you want from me?” I asked full of pain, almost whispering.

“I want your goodness!” he replied through his teeth. “I want your vision of Life!” he added furiously.

Everything started to go round and round me. My family had wanted to jump to my aid, to take that black tomcat off my arms. But at the same time, the earth had split under me and I started to fall… I was going deeper into the darkness, I was disappearing in the abyss, continuing to see only the frightening shine of the terrible animal’s eyes…

At that moment I opened my eyes. Somebody was trying to wake me up, shaking me with a hand pushing on my chest. I gave a start! I sat up on my bottom and withdrew with my back to the wall, trying to defend myself from the tomcat in my dream. I rubbed my eyes and I looked with intently to see what was going on. In front of me there was a prisoner trying to wake me up from my sleep. He was looking at me, afraid:

“What’s the matter with you?” he asked, when he saw I had opened my eyes.

I was flooded with sweat. I wiped my sweaty forehead and looked at my wet palm… I looked around, frightened, and I realised I was in my cell.

‘I had a dream!’ was my first thought. I looked to my chest quickly and felt it with my hands: it was untouched. I breathed deeply, relieved.

In front of the door a warden was standing. He had brought me food, on a little table on wheels, a “mess kettle” as we called it. I understood it was meal time. The prisoner distributing the food had woken me up. Disorientated, I asked him, as I didn’t know what meal this was all about:

“What time is it?”

I had no suspicion that the time was past the afternoon hours.

“Six in the afternoon,” he replied assertively, sure of himself.

I understood then that I had slept the whole day.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him. “Why did you come in and wake me up?” I couldn’t understand what was going on.

“I followed the order of the warden. I brought your food, but seeing you talking and writhing in your sleep, fighting in your sleep, we couldn’t just leave you like that…”

Usually When a prisoner was found sleeping, he was not left food. He stayed hungry. At least this is what the majority of wardens did. It was pleasurable for them to see you waiting for them, begging them for the already disgusting food. They were satisfied then. The prisoners had the obligation to be awake. When they found you sleeping, they closed the door slowly, without leaving a thing for you…

“When I came at noon you were sleeping,” the prisoner who had woken me up continued. “I left your food in the cell. I decided together with the warden not to let you go hungry. But coming back now with dinner and finding you the same, we were worried. I found the lunch share untouched and you were very agitated in your sleep. We woke you up to see if you are well and to leave you fresh food. It has never happened with you not to wait for us with the meals… You always had your crockery ready…”

I was confused from the sleep. On the little table I did see food indeed. It was probably that from lunchtime. What they were saying was real.

“Don’t wait because of me,” I told them, not feeling as if I was going to come to myself very soon. “Leave the lunch share for me, I will eat that one. Don’t waste your time.”

I just wanted to be left in peace. I didn’t feel like food, I didn’t feel like anything…

“No,” they refused. “Go and throw away that food. Don’t be lazy. And bring me the plate to give you fresh, hot food. It’s steamy,” the prisoner insisted. “It will give you strength!” he also added.

He was right. I agreed.

“Thank you,” I replied, looking at him with appreciation.

I got up, threw away the lunchtime food, washed the dishes fast so they would not wait for long, because they had already gone over the scheduled slots because of me. They left me the evening meal. It was tepid. The warden looked at me with curiosity. He rolled his gaze suspiciously through the cell.

“Are you all right?” he asked when his eyes reached me.

“Yes,” was my short reply.

“Why didn’t you come out for the walk? Not in the morning, nor in the afternoon?” he also asked. “Maybe this stale air from the cell makes you ill. And you only have two hours a day when you can get out.”

“I slept the whole day,” I replied. “I celebrated till dawn, together with my Candle. It was New Year’s Day, wasn’t it?” I asked in my turn.

“If this was the reason for you lack of sleep, that is OK!” he smiled.

They were getting ready to leave, when I saw them frowning. The warden said to the prisoner:

“You go out first.”

The prisoner obeyed. I was scared. What had just happened?

The warden came close to the window. He took the towel hanging there in his hand and asked me, waving it in front of my eyes:

“What is this? You didn’t just want to hang yourself?” he opened his eyes looking at me.

“No!” I replied, shaking my head vigorously. “I tied it like this so the Wind can swing on it. He kept me company. I humoured him.”

“What wind? What swing? Are you out of your mind? You can be serious!” he said, full of suspicions.

When I realised what I had told him, I realised that he might have thought, with good reason, that I was mad.

“You know.” I started to stutter. “I tied one to another so I wouldn’t feel alone on New Year’s Day. They say that your year will be just like you spent this night. And I thought it would be hard for me to endure all this loneliness: for a night, I considered it to be my friend,” I told him, pointing at the towel he was holding in his hand.

I didn’t even know what I was saying. I realised I was blabbing words that didn’t make sense. I knew that many prisoners didn’t resist the prison’s harsh regime and hanged themselves instead. The insults, the humiliation, the inhumane rules, these exhausted their strength. That is what the warden had been afraid for me.

He looked at me, lost in thought. It seemed to me that in his eyes there was a flicker of mercy. He said quietly:

“If this really is the reason, it’s all right. Farewell. Eat and get some strength and we’ll see each other again tomorrow. I will be on duty again.”

He untied the towel with slow movements, folded it and handed it to me:

“Do not tie it to the bars of the window because you might get ideas from the Dark One. Do not transform a simple joke in something bad for your life,” he advised me, without looking at me.

Then he laughed as he discovered the sock.

“Good night,” he said, going toward the exit, without any other comment. “We’ll see each other again tomorrow morning.”

The prisoner was waiting for him in front of the cell. They locked the door and left to take their food to the others. I stayed there looking in a void. I thought that he probably was one of the most humane wardens. You could discuss with him, ask him now and then about what was happening out there, in the world of Freedom. He had the patience to listen to us, and, unlike from his colleagues, he considered us as humans as well.

“Lord, I started this new year enjoying a crumb of mercy! Thank you! Maybe the whole year will be like this!” I said to myself.

I was again left alone with my things. Loneliness was watching me from the sides. I turned and sat down at the table. I ate everything, with appetite, as never before. I looked from time to time to see how the Wind was swinging on my sock, as we had decided together in the morning.

I then washed the dishes and put everything in order. I had come back to myself. I wanted to change my clothes and enjoy the cool air that enveloped me. I turned my gaze to the window and I understood it was time to close it so that I could keep the warmth in the cell for the whole of the night. I also looked at the Wind as he sat under the bed, looking at me with a sidelong glance. He had been scared by the warden’s presence. I nodded to him that it was time for him to leave. He didn’t say a thing, but he answered in the same way, nodding his head, and left silently. I went near the window and locked it, telling the wind we were going to see each other again the next day, in the morning. The wind looked at me now from the other side of the glass pane, watching to see what I was going to do next in the cell.

I dampened a towel with water and wiped my body with it. I got dressed and stayed for a little while in front of the improvised “mirror”, thinking about my dream. I wondered what was the meaning of that big black tomcat with green eyes? Why did he want my heart? “For my kindness and vision?” I asked myself in my head.

“I don’t think so,” I replied to myself aloud. Aaaah! I then realised, soon remembering that I had reached home for New Year’s Day with the help of the cranes!

I looked quickly at the parcel hanging by the door. My letter was no longer there! It had left Home…

I shall stop here. “The Jailhouse Story” will also continue in volume III.

I now invite you to accompany the heroes of the story “A Little Frog’s Heart” in their mysterious adventure. Volume II – “The First Steps Towards Maturity” will introduce you to the world of a trial of justice in which, because of an unhappy event, the Flea was the defendant. Then, together with him and the little Silk Worm you will take “The First Steps Towards Maturity”. A world full of mystery awaits you…

We now say farewell, reminding you that I am waiting for your impressions at the e-mail address: oinimadebroscuta@gmail.com

With serene thoughts,

The Author