The Tog & The Froad
by
Christina Ayckbourn
* * * * *
Copyright © 2011 Christina Ayckbourn
Smashwords Edition
License Notes: Thank you for downloading this free ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends and may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes.
* * * * *
The Tog & The Froad
"'Tis a very hard life," said the Tog to
the Froad, "to carry this load so far from
the sea to be squashed on the road."
"Never fear." said the Froad to the
worrying Tog. "If we just learn to jog
we'll get there in time. "
"That's a leap in the fog" said the Tog
to the Froad. "The sea's far from here
and we leap, we don't jog - so go it alone.
I'm off back to the pool where it's calm
and it's cool and I feel more secure."
Said the Froad, "You're a fool you've
got to branch out. The pond is alright
for a day and a night, but boredom sets
in when the light shines too dim. Our
vision gets blurred and the mud starts to cling."
So the Tog and the Froad set out
for the sea leaving comfort and tea, soft
lily-pad beds, the ducks and the coots,
minnows and newts, the familiar pond
and the good company.
The Froad jogged ahead at a
moderate pace (a smile on his face
and a song in his heart) with a very
small case - the merest necessities:
sponge-bag and purse, a slim book
of verse, toothbrush and comb…
The Tog bore his load with
grumble and curse. His knapsack
was full of knives forks and spoons,
kettle and crockery, packets of
prunes, a torch and umbrella, a
spare pair of boots, nose-drops
and eye-drops, refreshers and mints,
a booklet on 'Travel: Some
Useful Hints.' Postcards to send to his
friends in the pool, a compass, a
Primus, a hot-water bottle,
chocolate for energy, bottles of
pills, a book with the title,
'A Cure For All Ills', insect
repellent, cork-screw and crisps,
underwear, over wear, jam and
baked beans, a 'sing-along' sheet
of 'Favourite Tunes', treacle
and toffee, tissues and tea
and a long layman's guide on
'How to Cast Runes'.
So as time passed along (as time
always will) they sighted a hill.
The Froad was quite fit but the
Tog had a chill.
He lagged far behind, bemoaning
his fate. He cried,
"It's too late - just leave me
alone. I should never have left."
And he swallowed a pill.
The Froad jogged ahead loudly
quoting a verse from the very
slim book. He scarce gave a look
to his friend far behind - and
his friend got steadily worse.
Quoth the Froad, "The sea's on my
mind with its shallows and shores,
its rhythms and rhymes, its depth
and its wonder, its fish without
number, its sea-weed and mermaids,
its shell-fish and star-fish, its
soft golden sands and treasure sublime…"
Deep in a fever, the Tog sighed and
groaned. Bitter at heart his mind ran
apace. "What a futile race… What a
foolish decision to follow the Froad.
What a treacherous friend. Not a friend
but a foe - not a foe but a fiend… Oh
derision and scorn on my head to my toe.
Oh bitter my lot - Oh woe upon woe!"
When a voice close at hand intruded
his thoughts with a gentle command.
"Take off your knapsack and go it alone".
"What!" cried the Tog as panic set in.
"There's the pills, there's the prunes,
there's the bottle of gin, there's the
beans and jam, the knives, forks
and spoons, there's the…"
"I know" said the voice, "those favourite
tunes."
"That's right!" cried the Tog. "How can I
go on, how can I survive, if I haven't
my hand book on "How To Cast Runes'?"
"Leap" said the voice, "It's your natural way"
"Leap" echoed Tog, "How can I leap when
I can't even jog? Please leave me alone."
And the voice went away.
Far ahead jogged the Froad,
unmindful of Tog. The goal was in
sight, for round the next bend was
the sea and the light.
"'Tis the sea! 'Tis the sea! "Tis
the end of the road! Hurrah!"
cried the Froad. He jumped high in the
air, lost his balance and fell -
down a very sheer drop, down a very
deep well… Unconscious he lay on a
very sharp rock, stiff and inert
from the very bad shock…
Ill in a hole the tog lay alone.
Sometimes he slept-often he'd groan.
Sometimes he dreamt, sometimes he
woke, sometimes he'd shout, but
mostly he wept. "What a friend!"
sobbed the Tog, to leave me behind.
He'll be in the sea now. Oh cruel
and unkind!"
When just then on the wind, he
heard a faint cry - or was it a bird
overhead in the sky? No bird to be
seen and the cry came again,
a thin cry of anguish, a thin cry of pain.
A sound like, "Oh Tog, my erstwhile
friend, please help me, it's Froad.
I'm just round the bend."
"It's the Froad - he needs help! Yet
why should I?" said he, "Let him suffer
like me. No no, I've got to get up. I've got to go on.
I'm coming!: he cried. "Well done."
said the voice.
Tog cast off his knapsack and all it
contained. Cast his prunes to the wind
his pills to the earth, threw the whole
lot away - felt an upsurge of mirth.
And lighter in heart, in spirit and
mind he leapt to the rescue of Froad -
the Unkind.
And because he now travelled his
natural way, he'd soon leapt down
the well to where the Froad lay.
The following dawn the Froad said,
"I feel worse. Please read the last
poem from the slim book of verse."
"Of course!" replied Tog. He leapt
up the well in a terrible state.
"I must find the book before it's
too late…"
The Tog searched around under trees,
into holes, amongst thistles and
bracken, between rocks on the ground.
But the slim Book of verse couldn't
be found.
"I fear it has gone." The Tog told his
friend.
"My slim book of verse? Oh Tog, that's
the end."
There was a long silence, too deep for
tears, whilst the Tog and the Froad
mulled over past years, when times had
been better, happier far - in the pool
with their friends - etcetera…
High above the deep well in the
fathomless sky there twinkled one
star and a voice close at hand said,
"Here it is, look." And in front of
their eyes was the very slim book.
Said the voice, "Tog, the light of
the star is all you will need."
and quite shaky inside Tog started
to read.
The poem was long for a very slim book,
but it seemed to explain why
they'd travelled so far. Of others
who'd searched in strange far off
places, in strange far off places on
mysterious quests. Of miraculous
dawns on soft perfumed beaches, of
meadows and gardens, treasures and
gold. It was mystical, magic,
contained wonders untold - of ships
tossed at midnight on uncharted seas,
of ice-floes and dolphins, enchanted
forests, mythical animals, jungles
and trees. Of marvellous jewels in
dark secret caves, of sunsets and
twilights and 'in between' places.
It spoke about spaces…
this wonderful poem Tog read to the
Froad and he just kept on reading
till he'd reached the last word.
There was a long pause when
neither one spoke. Then the
Froad swallowed and said,
"Thank you good Tog. A very fine
poem - and if I may say so -
extremely well read. Now, I
think I can make it. Without
more ado, we'll leap to the sea."
Said Tog , "Ah - Aaatchooo!"
And very soon now the sea came
in sight, with its gulls and sea-
horses, its shimmering light.
And the Froad, as he leapt, made
a poem of his own, taught the words
to the Tog. Tog gave it a tune,
turned it into a song which they
both sang together.
And as to the rest of this story?
Well - good listener or reader -
it's now yours to tell…
###
* * * * *
At Smashwords: www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ChristinaA