“YOU’RE TALKING TO ME?!” Elle gasped loudly, unable to control herself. The frog cocked its head to one side as if listening. Then she heard, "You're talking to me?" The words echoed in her head.

  Elle ogled the frog and whispered, “What in the world…?”

  The frog stared at her a moment and then to Elle’s amazement, she heard her own voice echo in her mind, “What in the world…?”

  The frog was imitating her, using her own voice, in her own mind.

  Elle tried to calm down, which was difficult under the circumstances. She thought for a moment and then gestured for the frog to wait a moment. She quickly perused a few books in the vicinity and then snatched a heavy book from a dusty shelf: “Common English Phrases.”

  She opened the book and pointed at the page. The frog looked at her and then leapt lightly onto the page. He studied the page for a moment, absorbed in the words. Then he gazed around and hovered over to a small computer behind her. He landed lightly on the hard drive, and for a few moments, he glowed a soft pale green. A minute later, words fell into her mind, "Hello, friend!"

  "Oh my gosh!" she squealed as quietly as possible. She couldn’t believe that she was actually talking with a frog! Ok, Ok, so she had talked to a few frogs in the past (who hasn’t?), but none of them had ever talked back!

  “You speak a different language now? No longer speak Latin?” the frog asked.

  “N-no…..Elle stammered uncertainly. “I’ve never been able to speak Latin, actually,” Elle said. “But my mother can,” she said proudly. “Could, that is,” she quickly amended, turning red. “I can speak Pig Latin, though,” Elle said.

  “Ahhh…so the pigs are in charge now? Interesting. Although not surprising. Very well, take me to the pigs,” he said.

  “Pigs? No, no, they aren’t in charge, I just meant I could speak…never mind. I don’t speak Latin. I speak English—the language we’re using right now,”

  “Humans change languages frequently,” he observed.

  Elle nodded, not sure how to respond. She had a flashback to a history lesson with Mr. Dr. Wu, and she was pretty sure that he said that Latin was the major spoken language several centuries ago.

  "But how did you learn English so quickly? What were you doing on that computer?” Elle asked, nodding at the computer.

  "I was obtaining information about humans," he said. "It is interesting that still speak with your mouth,” he said.

  “Well, it’s not just me,” Elle said, defensively. “All humans use their mouths to talk,” she said. "But how--how can I hear you? It’s like you’re talking in my mind, but you’re not actually talking,” she asked.

  "Yes, it is Dicere. Communication without sound," the frog said. "Everyone does it on my planet.”

  “Your planet? Wait. You’re from a DIFFERENT PLANET!!??” Elle asked, completely flabbergasted. “What’s your planet’s name? What’s your name? Why are you here?” Elle was bursting with questions.

  “My planet is called Linith and I am called ‘Moon-That-Rises-Over-The-Simple-Yet-Ever-Faithful-People-Of-The-Blessed-Planet-Linith,’” he said.

  “Well, Moon-That-Rises-Over-The-Ever-Simple-People-Of-The-Ever….um….can I just call you "Moon" or "Moonie" or something?” Elle asked.

  “Yes. Or, you could call me ^^^,” he chirped outloud. “It’s my actual name,” he said, resuming the telepathy.

  “I’ll stick with Moonie, if it’s all the same,” Elle said, realizing that she didn’t have the right vocal anatomy to reproduce the sounds. “So what are you doing here on Earth?” she asked excitedly.

  “My Mission!” Moonie said. He assumed an attentive stance, and bowed his head so somberly that Elle had to stifle a giggle.

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  “What’s your mission?” Elle asked after what she hoped was a respectful moment of silence.

  Moonie’s beady black eyes glistened, “Cannot say. It is a secret.”

  “Ok. So you’re a telepathic alien on a Top Secret Mission. Of course. I should have guessed,” Elle said sarcastically, slapping her forehead. “But why did you come to Clark if you are on a Secret Mission? Nothing ever happens in Clark.”

  “Unfortunately my ship got off course and I crashed,” Moonie said.

  “Ohhh---you got lost,” Elle nodded. “That makes way more sense.”

  “Negative. Not lost,” Moonie said reproachfully. “I did not get lost. I am NEVER lost! Just off course. But as soon as I get back to my ship, I will correct the coordinates and depart.”

  Elle noticed how touchy he got when she mentioned the word “lost,” and made a mental note to try to avoid the term.

  From a distance, she heard a shuffling noise approaching through the stacks of old reference books and had the sinking sensation that The Librarian was on their scent. Elle had a horrible flashback to her previous scrapes with The Librarian for talking in the library.* *Let’s just say that there may or may not have been a strip-search involved.

  “But wait--weren’t you DEAD yesterday?” Elle asked, uneasily aware of how loudly her voice echoed in the murky gloom.

  “Negative. I use pseudo-somni to travel through the vast distances of space,” he said.

  “Pseudo-somni? What’s that?”

  “It is…how do you say…the sleeps? Space is very large, and pseudo-somni preserves body functions,” he explained.

  “Oh, yeah. I have Math with Mr. Johnson. I know ALL about that!” Elle said, before she could stop herself.

  “Math with Mr. Johnson? I do not know this entity,” Moonie said, confused.

  “No, no. It's just a teacher. Go on. You were saying?” Elle said, hurriedly.

  “When I reached your planet, I was reanimated," he explained. "I woke up,” he interpreted, when he saw Elle’s blank look. “But I was trapped inside my ship, and my body is very sensitive to moistures,” he said, "I must be careful to always have access to water. Unfortunately, the fluid in my ship was depleted, and I lost consciousness." He looked at her somberly. "If you had not removed me from my ship when you did, I probably would have died. The water that fell from your atmosphere helped rehydrated me. I am forever in your debt,” Moonie said, bowing his little head low.

  "Oh, no problem," Elle said, half-listening. She was concentrating on what she thought was the distant squeak of a library cart approaching. Or maybe it was the sound of an ax being sharpened on the skull of the last person who had been found talking in the library. Elle involuntarily shuddered, but not because the library was kept at a chilly 59 degrees (The Librarian had to have some way to keep the public away from the books, after all).

  “Maybe we shouldn’t talk here,” whispered Elle, nervously. “People might notice. It looks slightly suspicious,” she said, having a horrible vision of what The Librarian would do to them if she found out that not only was there someone talking in the library, the talker wasn’t even human. Elle couldn’t even imagine. The consequences were too gruesome to contemplate.

  “I am not talking,” Moonie pointed out, reasonably.

  “Yeah, Ok, but I’m talking because….that’s what humans do. But maybe we should go somewhere else….besides, it’s better to maintain a low profile if you’re on a Top Secret Mission, right?” she whispered urgently, glancing behind her. Was the shuffling getting louder? Maybe it was just another person trying to find a Latin phrase book. There was probably a huge demand for that type of material. Animae and Latin phrases were all the rage with the younger generation.

  “Good point,” Moonie thought in Elle’s head, to her secret relief. Her ears pricked up. Now she was sure that someone was moving behind the adjacent stack of books. Footsteps shuffled, and then stopped. Then shuffled again, louder this time. Elle panicked, frantically searching for a place to hide Moonie. The shuffling was getting closer and closer. Elle took action.

  She was attempting to nonchalantly hide Moonie under the cover of the Latin phrase book just as the New Kid stepped around the corner, noticed Elle and gave her a friendly wave.

  “Oh, hi, Elle. How’s it going?" he asked, and looked down at the frog. "What are you doing?"

  “I’m just making a pressed frog collection…” she flashed a fake smile at Juan.

  “Really? With a live frog?” he asked, looking at Moonie. “Wow—what kind of frog is that? I’ve never seen anything like it--! It’s beautiful!” He said, holding his hand out in front of Moonie. Moonie looked pleased, and crawled onto his palm. Juan turned him this way and that admiring him from all angles. “Hey—if you don’t want this guy, I’ll keep him for you!” He offered.

  “NO! Um…I mean…You can’t because…he’s a… Brazilian spitting frog,” Elle said. “Yeah. Highly poisonous. Much too dangerous for a pet.”

  “Oh…of course,” Juan looked at her, his eyes twinkling. “But I thought Brazilian spitting frogs were nearly extinct.”

  Silence.

  “Well…” started Elle.

  “…And, of course, can only be found in the rainforests of Brazil,” he continued, “As they can only survive in certain latitudes.”

  Elle mentally cursed Juan’s scientific prowess and her total ignorance on amphibians. “Look.....he got lost. I mean off course! Off course!” she raised her voice to drown out the internal echo of Moonie’s indignant protesting, “I am NOT lost! The Moon-That-Rises-Over-The-Simple-Yet-Ever-Faithful-People-Of-The-Blessed-Planet-Linith is NEVER lost!”

  “Ok—ok, you don’t need to yell,” Juan said, gently handing Moonie back, giving Elle a quizzical look. “It’s easy to get lost around here—bathrooms are especially tricky, I hear.”

  “MmmmHmmm. Yeah, that’s very funny,” Elle said dryly. “And what are you—some sort of an expert on frogs now?” She asked as she carefully accepted Moonie back onto her palm. “What are you doing here, anyway?” Elle asked as she set Moonie on the book shelf.

  “I’m doing some research for the science fair project,” Juan said. “Ms. Schmidt is starting to throw around subtle threats about finishing the project on time. Speaking of threats, you’d better watch out. I saw the librarian a few rows over,” he said.

  “Does she have her ax?” Elle asked quickly.

  Juan giggled, “Nope, but she doesn’t look happy,” he warned in a whisper. “Then again, she never looks happy,” he said.

  “It’s a medical condition. She was born without a sense of humor,” Elle said. “It’s tragic, but I hear they might find a cure yet,”

  Juan laughed again, “Yeah—hanging out with you would definitely cure her.”

  Elle blushed and noticed that Moonie was watching their conversation with beady-eyed interest. Elle had the feeling that if he could have winked, it would be right now. Instead, he licked one eyeball. Elle cleared her throat.

  “Well, see you around,” Elle said, picking up the frog. “I better get this guy back to his Brazilian rainforest before he becomes extinct,” she said, smiling wanly.

  “Yeah---and let’s hope we never bump into each other again,” Juan said, turning his back and thumbing through the giant Latin book at the top of the stack. Elle felt a slight pang of disappointment.

  “At least not during lunch,” Juan added, looking up, winking.

  Elle smiled and backed down the aisle. She bumped into the bookshelf and almost fell over. She regained her balanced and nonchalant speed-walked towards the exit.

  “Well that was awkward,” she said, looking down at Moonie.

  “Yes. Most awkward. And so I will reiterate for your understanding: I am not lost. I do not get lost.”

  “Of course not, but until you are even more not-lost, you better stick with me. Come on,” Elle whispered to the little alien as she left the dark stacks behind.