Barney the Frog's Arc

Chapter 4 of 5

Frank Rabbit stopped in the mud beside Barney, panting. Rain ran off his hood. "He's got the door blocked with a log. Won't even show his face. Billy's up there arguing through the crack." Behind Frank, the line of animals had halted on the slope. The rabbit with the kits sat down on a wet stone. That was the sitting Barney had promised to prevent. "Take me up," Barney said. He turned to the shed and called for a lantern. A squirrel passed one out. Then Barney hopped after Frank through the marsh grass, past the low pools of the swamp flat, up onto the drier ground where the leaning rocks rose out of the trees. Billy Bear stood at the mouth of the hollow with his torch, one huge paw braced on the pine log wedged across the entrance. Sammy Snake was coiled on a flat stone above the door, tongue flicking at the gap. A small fire burned inside the shelter. Barney could see clay jars stacked in the shadows, and a bundle of dried reeds. Someone had lived here a while. "He says he'll bite," Billy rumbled. "Won't say who he is." Barney hopped onto the log. "I'm Barney. I'm the frog who runs the shed down the slope. We have kits out here in the rain." A voice hissed from inside. Old. Cracked. "I know your shed. I know your crowd. They'll eat my winter stores in a night." "Show yourself," Barney said. A hedgehog shuffled into the firelight. Grey quills. One clouded eye. He held a walking stick like a club. "Nine days of rain. I counted. You've been loud about it. Everybody's been loud about it. I stocked this hollow for myself." "Sammy said it was empty," Barney said. "Empty in cold weather," Sammy answered from the rock. "I was wrong for now." Barney looked past the hedgehog at the jars. Then at the rabbit sitting on the stone below. He hopped down off the log. "Your stores are yours," he said. "Nobody touches them. Billy stands at the door all night. Frank writes down every jar before anyone steps in. When the rain stops, we leave and we replace what the room cost you. Firewood. Dry reeds. Berries from the ridge." The hedgehog's stick lowered a finger's width. "Who signs for that?" "I do," Billy said. "Bear's word." The hedgehog stared at the fire behind him. Then he stepped back and dragged the log sideways with his stick. "Kits first. Wet ones by the fire. Don't touch the jars." Billy lifted the log clear. Frank waved the line up the slope. The rabbit stood, gathered her kits, and walked in. Barney watched them file past the jars into the dry. He had two shelters now. And he had promised a stranger a debt he did not yet know how to pay.