Still Life With Woodpecker by Tom Robbins

Author:Tom Robbins
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Tags: Contemporary, Humour, Adult
ISBN: 0553348973
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 1980-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“‘That which you have promised you must always honor and perform,’ said the king sternly. ‘Go at once and let him in.’

“So she went and opened the door. The frog hopped in, following at her heels until she reached her chair. Then he looked up at her and said, ‘Lift me up to sit by you.’ But she delayed lifting him up until the king ordered her to.

“No sooner was the frog in the chair than he demanded to get up on the table, where he sat, looking about hungrily. ‘Push your plate a little nearer so that we can eat together,’ he said.

“Reluctantly, she did it, and the frog feasted heartily, although for her part, every morsel seemed to stick in her throat.

“‘I’m stuffed,’ said the frog at last. ‘And I’m tired. You must carry me to your room and make ready your silken bed so that we can lie down and sleep.’

“The princess began to fret and moan and cry and complain. She didn’t want that cold, creepy frog in her pretty, clean bed. The king became angry with her. ‘You made a promise in a time of need,’ he said. ‘Now, as unpleasant as it might be, you must honor it.’

“Making a terrible face, she picked up the frog and carried him upstairs, where she placed him on some soiled linen in a corner. Then she slipped into bed. Before she could fall asleep, however, the frog came pitter-patter up to her bedside. ‘Let me in with you or I will tell your father,’ he said.

“She had had enough. Flying into a rage, she grabbed the frog. ‘Get out of my life, you slimy frog!’ she shouted. With all her strength, she threw him against the wall.

“When he fell to the floor, he was no longer a frog. He had become a prince with kind eyes and a beautiful smile. The frog prince took her hand and told her how a vengeful witch had bound him by her spells and how the princess alone, in her innocent beauty, could have released him. Then he asked her to marry him, which, with her father’s consent, she did. And they went off to the prince’s country, where they became king and queen and lived happily ever after.”

As the story ended, the way that even that unhappy fartre Sartre knows that stories ought to end, a guard strode up to Bernard and tapped him on the shoulder, signaling him to return to his cell. Bernard appeared to be lost in thought. He continued to stare at Leigh-Cheri, smiling all the while, and ignoring the guard. The guard gripped him by the collar—which wasn’t black—and yanked him to his feet. It was too much for Leigh-Cheri. Shrieking, she sprang up and flattened herself against the window, as if she spread herself thin enough she could squish through the loose-knit silicone molecules the way that mayonnaise squishes through the holes in Swiss cheese. Bernard elbowed the guard in the jaw and seized the telephone.

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