Chapter 14

Freeing a Frog

Gentry nodded at Ty’s request and without the puppet having to say a single thing, the boy checked that his spear was safe in his belt loop and that he had a solid grip on his puppet friend. Gentry smiled, released his hand from the ceiling, and immediately shot it back up, pulling them higher once more. He flipped around, placing his feet on the “sky.”

“I'm assuming you have a plan to get back through?”

“Oh yes,” Gentry said.

Inside his legs, strings twisted and turned, forming what could be best described as springs. Then they hardened, closer to the firm feel of metal than string.

For once, Ty was ready.

Gentry released the tension, the springs shooting back and sending them down into the cloud so fast Ty wouldn't have been surprised to hear a sonic boom.

Inside the cloud, Gentry's cloak again wrapped itself protectively around its master and the boy. Unlike the first time, the cloud wasn't closing in around them. They caught it by surprise, entering the fluff at a speed too fast for the cloud to detect them.

They cut through as cleanly as a knife through running water. Ty managed to turn his head back around just enough to get a glimpse of the cloud moving and rumbling, turning a darker, almost angry color. It noticed them now, furious that they passed through without harm. If the air slamming against his face wasn't so powerful, Ty would have laughed at the temper tantrum.

He faced the ground again, staring at the street flying up to crush all of his bones. He was almost calm. He’d done a lot of falling and flying in his short time with Gentry, and grew almost used to the sensation.

Gentry was as silent and sure of himself as always. If one was able to get a closer look at his eyes, you would see them flashing with precise movements as they calculated the best tactics and timing. And then they would stop as he came to his best course of action—in this case, his left hand shot out and down, latching onto a piece of building. He let out an exact amount of string, then used the hand to pull them into a swing and back into the sky. The cloak spread out into the makeshift wings again, using their momentum and the air to hold them in a forward glide over the city.

Ty let in a much needed breath.

Gentry looked back at him and cracked a smile. “You're getting good at this.”

“Falling off of stuff looks like it'll become a thing with you, so I figured I needed to get used to it.”

Gentry smirked at that. Ty allowed a slight smile to creep onto his face as well, but he wasn't quite able to work up a laugh. His heart ached for the frog, his mind constantly reminding him that it was his fault.

“What are you planning to do?” Gentry asked as if picking up on a little of Ty's thoughts. “You aren't interested in the door right now, are you?”

“No. I want...” What did he want exactly? The first thing to come to mind was, “I want to free the plush creatures.”

Gentry shook his head. “Impossible.”

“I've got to try.”

“No, you don't understand. It is physically and mentally impossible for them to leave San's side. They wouldn't know how to function. They were created to work and build, or to fight and protect; without that, they wouldn't know what to do with themselves.”

Ty gritted his teeth. Was there no way for him to make up for what happened? How could he just leave these animals to a life where their only future was to work until they collapsed from hunger and reprocessed as knock-off snowflakes?

He didn't know the answer to either question. But he was going to find a solution. He had to.

#

It didn't take long to make it back to the factory. This world—room—was a tiny place, and flying on the back of a puppet was a fast way to travel. Gentry pulled them down onto a rooftop on the far side of the Town Square, the factory directly ahead.

Plush creatures walked the streets but saw or heard nothing as Ty and Gentry landed without a sound. Gentry's cloak fell back into its usual shape, and Ty hopped off the puppet's back. He walked closer to the edge of the building and looked up at the factory, his eyes drawn to a horrible sight.

Above the giant front doors a sign read:

Remember the frog

Or this will happen to

YOU

Below, the frog's lifeless body hung from a rope, flopping back and forth with the wind.

Ty reeled around to face Gentry, anger in his voice. “Get him down.”

Gentry's eyes remained on the body, anger and disgust showing clearly, and then said, “Are you sure? San has not noticed your absence—but he will soon. The door is yet unguarded. You could slip through right now. If I get him down, I risk being seen in the process, or at the least wasting the already small amount of time left before the alarm is raised and a whole army comes looking for you.”

“I'm sure.”

“You can leave through the door first, and then I can—”

“No. I have to see him for myself.” Ty’s hands clenched into fists.

Gentry patted him on the back, “I understand. And I'm proud of your decision.”

He raised his hand to the factory and then he was gone, flying up toward the sign. He was silent, fast, and with the cloak covering him, he blended almost seamlessly with the night. He didn't give himself enough credit—there wasn't a chance of him being caught in the act.

Ty looked across the square, into the windows of the factory. At first he saw only the usual plush creatures roaming the halls, but then he caught sight of sock monkey guards, walking fast and panicked. San couldn't find his guest, so he sent his armada to search for him. Time was their biggest worry.

Ty returned his gaze to the sign, but it, the frog, and Gentry were no longer there. He heard a ruffling noise from behind as Gentry landed beside him. Ty knew that the noise was intentional, made so as not to scare him. The puppet could have done it in complete silence.

With the body draped over one shoulder, Gentry handed Ty the sign with his free hand. The boy tore it into pieces and tossed the shreds into the air for the wind to do with what it pleased—even if that meant landing on someone down below, giving away their position. Ty didn't care anymore.

Gentry knelt, placing the frog onto the roof with great care, almost lovingly. Ty threw the last piece of the sign away and walked over to the body. He was on his back, the slit down his torso fully revealed and wide open, most of the stuffing gone. Likely back in San's office, a pile of makeshift blood on the floor.

Gentry looked up at him. “You know this one, don't you?”

Ty nodded. “He... sort of tried to eat me. I understand why now; he was starving.” He swallowed, finding it hard to talk, but working up the strength to press on. “San... he ripped him open. I saw, I watched it happen. I just sat there and watched.”

“Hey,” Gentry was on his feet in an instant, putting a comforting hand on Ty's shoulder. “It isn't your fault, you hear me? There was nothing you could have done. San would have just locked you away somewhere. That wouldn't have helped anyone. But now, you can help.”

“How?” The word all but leaped out of his mouth.

Gentry went back beside the body and beckoned to the boy.

He didn't want to—was terrified of what he would see—but if there was a way for him to help, he would, despite the growing urge to run and puke. Ty stopped just a foot or so from the frog but he didn't join the puppet in a crouch beside it. His legs shook. Maybe he would end up on his knees after all.

“Do you see?”

In truth, he didn't. He saw the rip in the chest, the few loose remains of the stuffing around the wound; the tongue that tried to kill him, unrolled and hanging out of the mouth... and the eye—the eye.

It moved.

“He's—”

“Still alive,” Gentry finished for him. “Yes. Apparently death is not punishment enough for San.”

Ty's hatred for San flared up, bringing with it an anger almost as strong as when he blew up in the toy store. San could not treat these creatures like this, it was sick, and twisted, and downright wrong.

“There's more,” Gentry said.

Ty squatted down beside the puppet, anger overriding his fear of the body. He was uncomfortably close to the eye. It spun around in its socket, unable to focus on any one thing for too long. Ty felt the same and turned away from it, instead looking to where Gentry gestured: the chest wound.

He leaned over the body and peered inside. This time, what Gentry wanted to show him was apparent right from the start. In the very center of the frog was an orb about the size of his fist. It pulsated with a weak red light, flickering on and off.

“What is it?” Ty asked.

“Their heart, of sorts. Every plush creature has one and as long as it's still intact and inside of them they can keep on living... even in a ghastly state such as this. It is one of San's more cruel ideas.”

“You said we can help, right? So we can bring him back to life?” The excitement in his voice grew with each word.

Gentry shook his head. “I did say that we could help—but not in that way. All we can do is destroy it and set him free.”

“No!” Ty shouted. “There has to be another way! Can't we, like, sew him up or something? We could sneak into the factory, look for a needle and some yarn and stuffing and—”

“It won't work, Ty... the orb—again, like a heart—only keeps them alive. It's the stuffing that holds who they are, their very essence. What you're proposing to do would be like trying to bring you back to life by putting another person's soul into your body.”

Feeling defeated, Ty went silent. He became aware that he was bleeding, small trickles of blood ran from his hands. In his anger, he had closed his fists tight until his fingernails tore deep into his skin. He did nothing to stop the blood from flowing.

Breaking the silence, Gentry said, “I'm going to take it out now, all right?”

The puppet's hand closed around the orb. Ty grabbed his wrist before he started to pull.

“Stop,” he said. “I'll do it.”

In truth, he didn't want to do it one bit. The thought of taking the frog's life was frightening and awful but... it somehow felt right, and the rightness of it brought him acceptance.

“Are you sure?” Gentry asked, looking deep into his eyes as if he could also find the answer within them.

Ty stared back. “Yes.”

Gentry released the orb and moved aside, giving Ty more room to work as the boy took his place beside the frog. The eye, amazingly, followed him for a few seconds before reverting back to rolling around in all directions. Ty couldn't shake the feeling of someone else watching as he prepared for the horrible thing he was about to do... directly to the only member of his audience.

Ty put his hand into the wound, found the orb, and closed his fingers around it. He paused, long enough to notice two things. First, the feel of the orb. He thought that it would be like touching a human organ, but it felt solid and plastic—like a toy. And secondly... the frog's breathing and the widening of his already massive eye.

Ty yanked back as hard as he could, wanting to end it quick and clean, mortified to realize that the orb stuck to the inside of the frog by a few strands of vein-like strings. The frog's body broke out into convulsions, flailing around the rooftop.

Gentry was there in an instant, a wooden finger at the ready to slice the strings in half.

“No!” Ty shouted, stopping Gentry in his tracks. “I've got it.”

Still holding the orb with one hand, Ty used his free one to pull his spear out of his belt loop and bring it around, cutting the strings with one swipe. Ty fell backward with the orb and the frog's body returned to a calm, motionless state.

Ty sat up, clutching the orb and breathing heavily. It was over.

Or so he hoped.

His gaze lowered to the “heart” in his hands. The light inside no longer flickered, only glowing weakly, so dim that he had to squint to see it at all.

Without warning, it went out; there and gone in the blink of an eye. Darkness rushed to fill the light's absence, becoming thicker and deeper from within. Without even thinking, without even asking for Gentry's permission, Ty crushed the orb. It held against the force of his hands but soon gave, cracks spiraling out all along the surface and with one last squeeze it shattered into thousands of dust specks.

“Hold it out in front of you,” Gentry said.

Ty did, the particles already slipping through his fingers. He didn't attempt to stop the flow, knowing this was something that needed to happen. He watched it fall and, as the first red speck was about to touch the roof, a breeze sprang to life and lifted the orb's remains into the air. He could see the wind's work but couldn't feel it for himself; his clothes and even Gentry's cloak remained still.

The frog's body caught Ty's eye and the boy watched as it began to disappear as well. As the breeze carried the dust higher into the air and farther away, more of the body vanished.

Ty came again to crouch beside what was left of the frog. His enormous eye still open, staring blankly up at the sky. With a slight tremble in his hand, Ty closed the eyelid.

“Goodbye, frog. I'm sorry that this happened to you, and who knows how many others... I promise, I will make San pay.” As soon as the last word escaped his lips, the vanishing act made it to the frog's head.

Ty and Gentry were once again alone on the rooftop.