Chapter 13: Peaseblossom

For the past few days, Mote and Mustardseed, upon seeing me, reminded me of my promise to provide a Morsel that was as delicious as cake for their birthday.  

On the evening of the 19th, I brought with great anticipation a present home to Mote and Mustardseed.  Upon returning, I found my friends at the edge of their Dwelling, pent with anticipation at what treat I had chosen for them.

I reached into the box and snatched it.

Up went their heads.  Out came my hand, closed.

Frog-feet tensed.  Eyes scanned.  

I could feel it squirming.  I lowered the present into the Dwelling.  I let go.

Frog-fast, my friends lunged and battled over the Morsel, wrenching and writhing, like Achilles and Hector.

The Morsel made a noise.  The Frogs froze.

It tastes like Me, said Mustardseed with a full mouth.

It seems awfully Big, said Mote, lolling her words.

The Morsel croaked.  The Frogs looked at each other.  They let it slide out of their locked maws.

Out came a small Frog, clay-colored and spry, with two green spots on his back that looked like epaulets.  He looked left, and then right, and then said that his name was Peaseblossom, and he demanded to know what was going on.

Peaseblossom demanded to know what was going on

Mote looked at me with incredulity.  She had been looking forward to Morsels.

I said that this was the best kind of gift, and that birthdays were in actuality about all of the people who know the person who is becoming a Fuller Frog, and that a Frog without friends is certainly not becoming Fuller.  I said that I had learned this recently, and that this was my motivation for providing them with a new friend. 

Looking at me, Mustardsaid said that the Dwelling seemed a little Crowded.

Mustardseed said that the Dwelling seemed a little Crowded

Mote seemed agitated, but summoned some words.  She hopped over to Peaseblossom and said that she was glad to meet him, and that her name was Mote.

Mote said that her name was Mote

At that moment, I opened a large bag over the opening of the Dwelling, in an effort to give the three companions something.

Peaseblossom's jaw dropped.  Mustardseed smiled.  Small insects fell from the bag, as many as there are stars in the heavens.  Awed and inspired, Mote's mouth moved with precision, singing:

My Haiku, my Haiku,

My Haiku is coming true!