Once the food and drink was done, Jake glanced over his wife. She had gone quiet for a little while now, stirring her coffee way past the point the sugar must have dissolved, and then distracting herself with a cake slice, before idly inspecting her reflection in her spoon.

Jake cleared his throat:

“Hey, Court,” he spoke up, “you want to show them that photo project you were working on?” He told the girls: “Courtney started a scrapbook photo album to commemorate the ten year anniversary.”

“Right,” she said slowly, coming out of herself a little. She rested her hands on the table, one on the other. “But why don’t you start taking them through it, and I’ll take the dishes away.”

He frowned.

“You sure? I mean…But you made it.”

“You’re in some of the photos, too,” she replied distractedly, getting up and leaning past him to collect the cups and saucers. “You could explain what’s happening in the photos just as well as I can.”

“Just seemed personal, that’s all.”

“I made it for you, too, Jake,” She said through pursued lips. “And you haven’t seen it since I finished. They’re your friends, too, remember?” Pausing to stack the used plates, she seemed to think a moment. Then, without looking at anyone, she said:

“I think I’ve poured over it a little much, and it’s in my head; really early this morning, for instance…” her words stopped short. She then smiled and shook her head: “Need to take a break. It’s weird without even talking about aliens.”

Kayla shifted guiltily in her seat, while Bratty’s eyebrows furrowed and quirked with puzzled exasperation, as if intuiting Courtney was the crazy one after all.

Jake’s tone changed as he realized her mind was decided.

“Well, come in when you’re ready.”

He and the teens left the table, Jake leading them to the drawing room on the other side of the house, leaving Courtney alone with you in the dining room.

Will met your eye and gave you an insistent look that said: Now! Get her attention!

Now?

You hesitated.

Now was the worst time. You were dainty and teaspoon-shaped, and had oily smudges of lipstick on your face. If Courtney thought you could possibly be alive out there somewhere, surely she didn’t expect her spoon to start talking to her, claiming to be you. She might think she was having a breakdown, freak out and toss you in the trash.

There had to be a better way to tell her.

You thought hard for some clue that would help Courtney put it together for herself. Only then, you decided, you would reveal yourself to her: when she called out your name. Then you would show yourself, only to confirm what she had already figured out. Just like at the birthday party, you only had the confidence to approach her when the moment practically demanded you to, and not a moment before.

Courtney lightly plucked you and Will up off the table. For a moment your shoulders were precariously held between her forefinger and thumb as she collected the other spoons, and piled everything on the empty cake platter. Next to you, Will, was smeared with half-licked cake icing. You lay on your back on the plate, staring straight up the sensational visage of his twin sister as she took you into the kitchen.

You kept imagining she would look down into your eyes and light up with recognition. But a tiny part of you didn’t want to be recognized. For an instant you thought what it would be like to be her spoon forever, being used and washed on repeat. The problem was, Jake would eventually use you as well, plus any guests they had over.

Courtney dropped the two of you into the sink and you were swallowed into a pool of hot soapy water. The saucers piled on top of you, trapping you to the bottom of the sink. She fished you up again, and swiftly scrubbed you up and down with a scour that grinded like sandpaper, making your tiny sensitive body tingle. Then you were laid on the dish rack to dry, while she left the kitchen to find the others, who were continuing their conversation in the living room. Will lay next to you, and the two of you slowly shrank in length and filled out, until you were once again a pair of walnut sized people. You gingerly stood up, and Will turned to face you.

“Do I look okay?” he said.

“You look normal to me,” you said, trying your best to ignore that the two of you were once again naked and walnut-sized. You had to admit your definition of ‘normal’ had changed radically since race day.

“I can’t believe it. I thought getting her wet willies was bad enough,” he muttered, “but she nearly sucked my head inside out.”

It had been Bratty who was sucking on him, who was a stranger. Confused, you said:

“Do you know her?”

He looked at you uncomfortably.

“Fuzz…that’s my little cousin. Lara.” He added: “I guess not so ‘little’. You met her a few times already. Hope she’s not too bummed I missed a couple of birthdays.”

It hit you like a slap:

Lara Rugger. Will and Courtney’s kid cousin. Last seen at the race, plus a handful of times when you visited Will’s house. She was a precocious little know-it-all seven year old who loved gummi bears.

Now it was more obvious than ever – undeniable – ten years had passed. Of everyone Lara had changed the most; she wasn’t a tiny seven anymore, but a tall seventeen –only a few years younger than you and Will. She had sulky good looks, wore earrings, a choker and a little too much eyeliner and pouted a lot. Her black combat boots made more noise than Courtney’s elegant heels, and when the teens got up and left the table, her tread had echoed through your body with each step.

Lara was a teenager now, and in one year she’d be an adult. This was real; you thought despondently, everyone was older. You were not.

Will tapped your shoulder, pointing at something. Across the other side of the sink, there was a phone on the counter.

“This is our chance,” he said.

The two of you moved beyond the drying rack and inched around the sink, which created a narrow pass alongside the stainless steel basins, which went deeper than any swimming pool.

“Whose phone is that?” you asked.

Will jumped on the screen and began flipping through apps.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, “as long as it works.”

He seemed to have forgotten that the people you knew had changed their phone numbers, so you couldn’t dial anyone. You needed a phone with a useful contact list. Kayla’s phone would be no good, possibly not Lara’s either. It needed to be Jake’s or Courtney’s phone. You said this out loud to Will.

He opened the phone account settings and then looked up at you:

“It’s my sister’s.”

“Then we can’t call her,” you said obviously.

“Why call?” said Will. “Who’s going to believe us? We’re just going to leave a message explaining the deal, on a phone memo. So, you type and I’ll dictate.”

“We need to prove it’s really us,” you pointed out. “Not a prank.” It pained you to imagine Courtney thinking she was getting pranked by someone pretending to be her missing brother.

“We’re not ourselves.”

“You know what I mean.”

He shrugged.

“We’ll talk to her when she comes. What’s better proof than that? And you’re the one who’s going to get her attention this time,” he quickly added.

The scene from that early morning flashed in your mind: Courtney leaning over in bed to take a good look at you. The feeling of dread as you realized you were stuck in her hose. Only because the bedroom was dimly lit she didn’t get a good look at you.

You were grateful you had hid under the bed, as much of a blow it was to your goal of being discovered. You had been worried she wouldn’t recognize you. She would pick you up, look you over, like the college guy had, and put you away in her bedside drawer, like an interesting keepsake. If you were going to get her attention, the moment had to be perfect. She had to be able to see and hear you properly otherwise it was too risky. She couldn’t be sleepy or distracted; you needed her full attention.

Will glanced at you.

“Don’t hold out on me.”

You said:

“I’ll do it.”

He picked up your hesitation.

“Hey, I think I get it,” he murmured. “You can’t stand her right now. And that’s cool.”

“I-I don’t – ” you said quickly.

“You were really into her,” he pointed out solemnly. “And she done backflipped. I mean…”

“She’s your twin sister. Of course I don’t blame her. I don’t. It’s been a long time for them.”

But it wasn’t a long time.

It sounded like she got together with Jake the race night. Probably after arriving at the fancy restaurant. Waiting alone. Being unable to call you or Will. Remembering how Will tried to brush her off. Deciding you were colluding against her. Finally, being found by Jake. Feeling relieved that he was just as confused as she was; that maybe she wasn’t the only one being stood up. Offering to drive him home. Taking him inside her place, at 1.30 AM, for coffee and revenge. They were just kids too. She regretted it now.

None of this made you feel better.

“It’s been ten years,” you insisted. “She dated someone else, so what?”

“Jake’s not someone else. He’s your best friend. Our best friend.”

“He didn’t know I liked her.”

“He knew she’s my sister.”

“So, you think he dated her just because you disappeared? Jake would never do that.”

“Maybe you’re right. He would never do that.”

Puzzled, you stared at him.

“What does that mean?”

He looked away.

“It means I don’t think Jake did that. I think Courtney did that. She jumped all over Jake just because we disappeared. Gross. Why did I say it like that?”

“Maybe it looks like that to you,” you said, “but, I’m sure it’s much more complicated.”

Will changed the subject:

“You think Lara was kidding about Ash?” he remarked, “She has kids now. That’s so weird—”

You were again struck how young you sounded. You had the whiny strain of youth, to remind you how little you aged. Will’s voice sounded closer to a kid’s than Jake’s deep, mature voice. If he recognized you, would he treat you like kids, or like adults? Would Courtney?

“How old do you think they are?” Will wondered aloud. “Ten?”

“No way,” you said. “That means she was pregnant the same year we left.”

“We’re talking about Ash,” he said calmly. “It’s not that weird. She needed a guy there all times, even in her dreams.”

He seemed oddly dispassionate. You asked if he was okay with it.

“Are you serious?” he exclaimed. He held his palms up as if weighing two alternatives: “Kids. No kids. I’m young and single again, man.”

His voice was drowned out by a resonating sound; the sharp tap of incredibly large footwear over tiles.

The two of you had assumed Courtney had gone off to find the others. Now it occurred you made a grave error of judgment. She had only disappeared to use the bathroom, and had just finished. Now she was washing her hands and the piping sounds of water flow ran through the wall. In a minute she’d be done, and you guessed pretty soon she was going to appear to get her phone back.

In a state of growing panic, you looked across at Will. He gestured you to hurry up, but there was no time. You were still thinking up what to say via note on her phone, and ‘oops, we’re shrunk now’ wouldn't cut it.

“Leave it!” Will said. “There’s no time to type, you basically gotta her draw a diagram!”

That gave you an idea. You quit the memo app and opened a drawing pad app, then began swiping letters out, trying to make them as big as possible.

Will wasn’t even looking anymore; he was starting to edge back over the kitchen counter. The piping sounds shut off.

“Get out of here Fuzz!” he yelled back at you.

But you needed to set an alarm on the phone, to distract Courtney while you ran for cover. You scrolled through her music playlists.

"What's her favorite song?" you asked Will.

"How would I know?" he said with irritation, "Fuzz, we have no time for this."

You saw:

Walnut Tree by Keane
Moon by Sia
Losing My Religion by R.E.M.
How Soon Is Now? by The Smiths
Pictures of You by the Cure
A Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton
From the Sea by Eskimo Joe

You chose one. Maybe you liked the title. Maybe you closed your eyes and pointed at one. Maybe the choice was obvious, or maybe it didn’t matter which one you chose, because all of Courtney's songs were the same song.

Then you maxxed the volume and pressed play. Even before the soundwaves rippled through the air, you and Will had begun to run like it was race day again, and he was still faster than you.

*

At first she thought one of the girls had left their phone out and it was ringing, even as she felt a weird shimmery feeling, like a ghost had touched her shoulder.

It was coming from her own phone, and it wasn’t a ringtone. It was one of her ‘special’ songs that she never played except on those ‘red wine and bathtub’ nights that happened more often than she told Jake about, but she thought he’d begun to suspect.

With an eerie feeling, she burst into the kitchen, only to find it empty. Jake and the teens were on the other side of the house, in the drawing room where she kept her photo journal. Her phone lay on the kitchen counter, and when she picked up it, she noticed strange tiny markings dotting the screen, like miniature hand and foot prints. They went all over the screen.

She was just about to swipe them away with her thumb, but stopped, feeling weird again, remembering what she’d seen early that morning. Or, what she told herself she had not really seen.  

The drawing pad app was open and there was a weird message drawn on it that puzzled her even before she read what it said. First of all, it was in a loopy childlike scrawl, like the writer couldn’t write very well. Secondly, even more puzzling, it was very tiny. Absurdly tiny. It made no sense a messy writer could also write that delicately.

Then she read it:

hi court
it was me
the frog