Frogs of Rayne

Date: 9.28.2224

Location: St. Joseph's Catholic Church, Rayne, Louisiana

The morning hymn still drifted through the sanctuary as we packed our gear.

Larry broke the silence.

"Mike..."

I looked up.

"You notice all those frogs outside?"

"I did."

He grinned.

"They're our way in."

"Our way in?"

"Them things are delicious."

Clancy looked at him.

"...I'm already regretting this conversation."

Larry laughed.

"I'm serious. Fried frog legs. Best thing you'll ever eat."

Clancy turned pale.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

Larry ignored him.

"Rayne's been Frog Town for longer than anybody here has been alive. Rayne... Crowley... all through this stretch. You'll find little frogs, big frogs, ugly frogs..."

He held two fingers apart.

"...and some that'll kill you if you don't know what you're looking at."

Pinball's eye rotated toward him.

"Exaggeration probability detected."

Larry pointed a finger.

"It ain't an exaggeration."

He leaned against one of the old pews.

"My mama used to fry 'em up all the time."

For a moment, the swindler disappeared.

He sounded like somebody remembering home.

"Rayne was always quiet when I was growing up."

Pinball paused.

His antenna twitched as archived information synchronized.

"Historical records indicate Rayne was repeatedly described as 'a good place to raise children.'"

A pause.

"That phrase appears often."

Larry smiled.

"See? Even the little floatin' encyclopedia knows."

He looked toward the broken church doors.

"Bet none of y'all noticed there ain't many bugs around."

Nobody answered.

Larry folded his arms.

"You can thank the frogs for that."

I shook my head.

"I don't eat frogs."

Larry looked offended.

"Why not?"

"They all look strange to me."

I adjusted my satchel.

"And besides..."

"It's against my religion."

Pinball immediately spun toward the altar.

"Conflict detected."

I looked at him.

"Conflict?"

"Religious statement registered."

"Location confirms church."

"Correlation unclear."

Larry burst out laughing.

Clancy sighed.

"Enough about the frogs."

He picked up his rifle.

"I've got a feeling we're going to be seeing plenty more of them before we leave Frog Town."

Pinball began zipping excitedly between the pews, making cheerful electronic chirps that echoed through the sanctuary.

I slung my pack over my shoulder.

"Time to move."

The hymns continued behind us as we stepped back into the Louisiana morning.

As we stepped outside, the ditches were alive with frogs.

Hundreds of them.

Singing louder than the birds.

Funny thing about the end of the world.

It couldn't convince the frogs that anything had changed.

We started walking east.

— Big Chief Mike Marcel