I Am, You Are, He Is, She Is, Everyone Is Frog
1
Like a colossal mirror, shiny, dazzling, almost phony (please forgive me for using it, since, I mean, you should come to look at it yourself, and I bet none of you would believe it is real, right in front of you, in the physical world), incredible that it is a man-made lake boasted by a newly-established resort, responding to “building a world of paradise”—the absurd scenario just came out from our “greatest” Mayor, who enjoys nothing but three things of all time—babbling, bullshitting, daydreaming.
And Beth, come on, this bimbo, who just keeping indulging in the stupid ad on telle, in the radio and on the newspapers (surely I don’t know how much amount the press took from those frauds), should booked the ticket for us three without even thinking twice. “You are absolutely duped, greenhom.”
“You idiot! You don’t even know how awesome the place is. You see, it’s …” Oh man, I forgot what she said, but her demeanor that she poked at the photoshoped pictures on the flyer and waved her other hand like antenna as if I had been blind really made me sick, always.
“All right, all right, you win. I’ll drive, and you take Jackson. Don’t lose him again.” I said, simultaneously clenching my teeth when I thought of “that” experience.
2
“And that is how I come, not why I come.” Holding a beer in my hand, I looked out through the window in this president suite, which I would rather call it a lake-view suite, talking to myself. Even when I am peering at this luxury sofa, I still failed to associate this room with “president”—all the leather, wood, metal, woollen carpet, sheet, pillow are stitched or seared with the image of frog. Even I had known that the Mayor was of French ancestry＊, the “avant-garde” design was still a conundrum for me. But seeing Jackson enjoyed the decoration so much, I soon set the conundrum aside.
“Actually, those frogs are quite lovely.” What Beth just said really surprised me. As I know, the most terrible things, save the insomnia that she’s been suffering for years, is the green creature with two convexity of flashlights and incessant croaks. (maybe for her it is more terrible than the day she croaks＊) “What kind of prestidigitators are the damn frogs that eliminates the inner demon of my wife?”
“Absolutely their adorability conquers every haze inside me.” Beth just girgled.
“Daddy, look, the frogs are so cute. They are alive. They’re hopping.”
“Dontito. They are just pictures, not cartoons.”
“But I…” Somehow, what Jackson said did arouse my interest, even Beth thought it was just the fantasy of a six-year-old boy after watching some cartoons, incidentally, the cartoons are going backwards these years. Nowadays cartoons are not for children, but moron. No wonder Beth would take it as a joke. “Take a good rest for the spectacular scenery tomorrow, especially you, Beth, take a good sleep as long as you can.”
＊French was offensively called by British as “frog-eater” for eating the legs of frogs.
＊The word “croak” means the sound that frogs make and that humans make when they are dying.
3
Unfortunately, it was equivocally an awful night for rest. I had been haunted by a nightmare the whole night—a lengthy, reddish, slimy, stinky, fleshy stuff dragged me into the abysmal darkness. The chamber was wet, scorching, oppressive, like the monsoon season in South-East Asia.
Soon, a green silhouette just crashed into my retina and sprinted on my nerve, as I clearly saw that hanged by the voluptuous but no longer flesh body that Beth boasts was a green head of two convex headlights and a slimy lengthy tougue! Croak!
The debut of such a play in my brain theater forced me to end this rediculous performance with a squeak that men could never let out in the absence of overdosed adrenalin. “Beth, Beth, my life is nearly to an end. I, I…” It must be hilarious to see a tough guy’s whimper.
“Shh, I feel you, honey, I feel you.” Interrupted by her geniality and caresses, I soon lost consiousness again, without even noticing the fetid saliva on my body and face. Croak? Croak! Oh man, I was just too sleepy to check out what was beside my bed which I was sure, was not Beth at all.
4
I don’t know what my parents was doing.＊
They just didn’t shut up. For the whole night they just gave out some creepy groan like I hear ago near the lake. I didn’t want to come here at all. It is just my mother which signed up for all of us three.
In fact, at the night before we came here, a woman just told me not to go. She said some confused words like I am still so young like the sunrise and, like what, let me think, err…, I will be influenced, I will lose my humanity and sanity (my teacher just told me about these two words, spelling them is so tough)I don’t know much about what she referred to. And, seems like I know her. I just nor remember her name.
I cannot fall asleep today. They say my mother has, the name is just at the tip of my tougue, insom-what, but I think now I should be the patient. I just want them to take me home, I cannot stand anymore. The hopping frogs really scared me and mom just ignore it. Why adults always turn a deaf ear to children’s words?
Wake up, daddy, you just make me sleepless. Too loud. Just when I pushed onto his body, I feeled a chill—not my daddy! And my hand can not take away from it. Slime’s coming! And my back, my hair, my face, feel like the swine Thomas＊applys glue to my body. Miss Friendy just telled us about monsoon season. (Miss Friendy, can you see it? I can spell the word correctly.)
Monsoon season, mom. I tried to tell her, but always the croaks on my ear. And it is more complex now. Do they have language like us?
Outside is a little light. I just don’t want to sleep on this bed.
＊This chapter was written by their six-year-old son, Jackson, so don’t be surprised if there are any grammar mistakes.
＊The guy who keeps bullying Jackson at school.
5
The sky has been clear, with azure curtain and mashmellow as the ornaments, combining with the energy of Apollo with which I could almost feel the quantum photon as our main character today. No more sheet of murky gray up high in the sky! Not another single day would be more suitable for hanging out! And this is not bombast, I promise all of you who are reading the chapter.
It seemed Jackson enjoyed outdoor fun more than we two, who just sprinted out with a kind of nearly missionary zeal and we had no choice but to follow him to the lake, out of breath, suspecting in my mind if this brat had a conbustion engine but heart.
However, upon reaching the lake, my mind quickly became a blank sheet, and some other artist painted on it with the ultimate pigment and the perfect craft—the reflection of the big sky connected with the sapphire dome, like a magician taking the horizon away from such a spectacular scene. The lakeside condos are of sophisticated design, the amalgamation of tradition and avant-garde, like the masterpiece made by Gaudi＊.
Such a l'heure du plaisir＊came to an end when we walked towards the lake and took a look at the limpid-but-not-limpid water. The water was clear, but none of us could see what was under it, just like a mirror…a mirror with three frog-heads inside! I felt faint and the palpitation of my heart as if my consiousness had been instantly swallowed by the mercury-sque stuff!
“That can’t be true!” screamed Beth. Currently, that woman was in hysteria, just like a big frog painted by jalapeno sauce croaking. Soon, we got our audience who took pictures of such a tragicomedy of boisterousness and irony. There were no longer bonhomie and compassion surrounding but tease, sarcasm and indifference as if we had been the frog family in the acrylic cube exhibited in the zoo. Their countenances of arrogance and condescend-ness started to distort, together with their acrimonious words and presumptuous laughters and turned into a group of frogs croaking at us, tougue in the cheek. Around me, also, were the crying and screaming from Beth and Jackson like the Bgm almost being killed by these “frogs”’ snapping and laughting, just for adding annoyance to my despair which accelerated my process of collapsing. And my mind and sense stalled now.
＊A Spanish architect.
＊French, which means “happy hours”.
6
I couldn’t remember what I’ve done, what we’ve done now. It just hurt in my ears and within my mind. Jackson and my husband disappeared. Booking such a resort with horrible surreal power and some extraterrstrial creatures was almost tempting fate. I shouldn’t have been faith in those fxxking flyers in our mailbox. I didn’t even check the F＊ ID of the sender. It’s a pretty long name and I failed to re-check it due to my laziness. It was dark, without stars, moonlight, or even neon lights, like a whole another world when Edison＊ hadn’t been born. The sound of burp started again, but more clearly than I had heard in our room.
It’s here. I said to myself and turned around towards the lake—the tranquility remained, but resonated with the belch—something was beneath the water! I had no time to think about what was wrong with me but to jump and dive into the lake with the manipulation of ,what I usually call it, intermittent abnormality. Surrounded by darkness and freezing bitterness, with the evanescence of a beam of light, I saw a big frog crounching on a golden terrace—its cheek puffing up, foams blocking me from peering its face carefully, drinking the water of the lake and then spitting it out. What a big frog!
F off, mortal! I am Sakyamuni! Without seeing anyone talking, I just heard the voice, like the stereo in my living room playing audios in my mind. Prior to my surprise, it suddenly occurred to me that the sender of the flyer called himself Sakyamuni, a name from Sanskrit, literarily means Buddha. So you are the Buddha of frog?
I am Sakyamuni! I am Sakyamuni! I am Sakyamuni! …These words blew my mind and almost made me collapsed. It was not a resort, it was just an abyss! I shouted it out in despair, but it turned out that I could not give a word. Later, the Sakyamuni just went near until it gobbled up all the foams and me myself…
“Shit, Beth, how would I have such a nightmare?!” I jumped out from my bed, but saw nothing—not the furniture, nor Beth and Jackson—It was just darkness.
“There was no moonlight tonight.”
“So disappointed. I’ve been expecting to see the spectacular scene of the brilliant moon into the picturesque lake!”
“Look, mum, sis, it is moving!”
“Kidding me? Ha ha. It’s just the image. It is frog-themed room.”
＊F equals a “four letter words”.
＊Thomas Edison
Epilogue
“How can you achieve such an Hercules’ Task in such a short time, Monsieur le Maire?”
“Efforts. We have used some strategies, but in the end, efforts beats everything.” Standing by the lake, accompanied by exuberance of frog croaking, the Mayor told it on the camera and sneakily slithered into the roomy and luxury backseat of his limousine with the help of the security, lifted up the electronic sun visors and tore out the human skin mask sticking on his face, and took out a bust of a buddha, looking into its convex eyes, stroking it with fingers and webs＊, with some incantations spilled through his lips.
＊The film growing between the fingers of some animals like frog.
译文
你看，大家都是青蛙了
1
这闪闪发光令人炫目的湖泊活像一枚巨大的镜子，在我看来甚至有些虚幻，请原谅我使用这个词，我的意思是，你们都应该来亲眼看看这个湖，我敢打赌，你们所有人都不会相信这样的湖泊会出现在现实中，就在你们的面前。你不会相信这其实是人造湖泊，它位于一座新建的度假村中。新建这座度假村也是为了响应我们“最伟大的”市长大人提出的“人间天堂”这一荒唐远景。这市长没别的爱好，平生就爱干三件事，说废话，说胡话，说梦话。
但是，我的天，贝丝那个傻女人居然犹豫都没有犹豫一下就给我们一家三口订了票。她就是一个整天沉溺在各种脑残广告里的人，电视上的，收音机里的，还有报纸上的，我真是不知道报社收了这些骗子多少钱。“你这个洋葱头，绝对受骗了。”
“你傻啊！你都不知道这个地方有多好。你看……”天呐又来了。我已经忘记她说了什么，我只记得她指着广告传单上的精修图，手像个天线一样挥来挥去，当我瞎了一样，这种举止令我十分厌恶。
“行了行了，都听你的。我开车，你带好小杰，别再弄丢他。”每每想起那次经历，我不自觉地咬紧牙关。
2
“是我老婆把我拖过来的，不是我想来的。”我手拿啤酒，透过总统套房的窗户欣赏着窗外的景色，自言自语着。与其说是总统套房，我更愿意称之为湖景房，因为即便是我紧盯着那豪华的沙发，我也没有半点把它和“总统”扯上关系的意思—所及之处，皮质，金属，木饰，羊绒地毯，枕头和被子都饰上了青蛙图案。即便我知道我们的市长有法国血统＊，我还是对这样前卫的设计摸不着头脑。但是，管他呢，只要小杰喜欢就行了。
“其实吧，这些小青蛙还是挺可爱的。”贝丝的话真的震惊到了我。就我所知，除了困扰她多年的失眠症之外，她最害怕的就是这种长了两个像外凸的手电筒一样的绿色玩意儿，还有就是它们发出的呱呱叫声。可能对于她来说，青蛙的叫声比她自己哼哼唧唧快要死的时候还要可怕＊。“所以这些鸟青蛙到底施了什么法咒战胜了我老婆多年的心魔？”
“那当然是因为它们它们太可爱了啊。看到它们，那还有什么心魔。”贝丝咯咯地笑道。
“老爸快看啊，那些青蛙好可爱啊。看呐，它们在动，它们在跳。”
“傻孩子＊，这些是图案，又不是动画片。”
“但是，我真的……”不知怎的，这回，虽然贝丝一直认为这只是一个六岁小孩看了动画片之后产生的幻想，但小杰的话还是让我在意了起来。顺便提一句，这几年动画片的水准每况愈下，现在的动画片根本是给傻子看的，也难怪贝丝会这么想了。“好好休息吧，明天还有美妙的风景在等着我们呢。尤其是你啊，贝丝，还是尽可能多睡一会儿吧。”
＊英国人由于厌恶法国人吃青蛙腿的行为会将法国人蔑称为“青蛙佬”。
＊双关语，详见“croak”释义。
＊原文为西班牙语。
3
很遗憾呐，那天却是个不眠之夜。我整夜被噩梦所萦绕。在梦中，我被一条长条形的肉状浅红色东西拖入了无尽的幽暗世界，那玩意儿真是恶心，黏糊糊的，臭烘烘的，拖我到的这个鬼地方也是又湿又热，活像东南亚的雨季。
很快，一道熟悉的身影映入我的眼帘，但却是强大冲击，直冲脑门—那属于贝丝的丰腴肉体之上长着的赫然是一只绿色的，长着两只凸出的大圆眼睛和吐着黏糊舌头的青蛙头！我甚至听到了那个东西在叫。
第一次遇到这种景象的我着实被吓得不轻，以男人极难发出的（除非像我一样肾上腺素急剧分泌）尖叫声结束了这一切。“贝丝，贝丝，我，我……”堂堂八尺硬汉此刻居然说话都带着哭腔。
“什么也不用说了，宝贝，我懂你，我都知道。”在贝丝温柔的呓语和轻软的抚摸中，我又沉沉睡去。这一睡，我居然都没有注意到我身上挂着散发腥臭味的动物唾液，更没有精力来关注我身边这个早已不是我的贝丝的东西究竟是什么。
4
我真的不知到我爸妈在高什么。＊
他们真的好吵。晚上还发出奇怪的呼噜声，就像我之前在湖边上听到的那种奇奇怪怪的声音。我其实一点也不像来的，都是我老妈。
其实那天晚上，就有一个女人告诉了我一些话。她说的一些话我啊其实都听乌隆，什么“我还很年轻像早上的日出一样”还有什么“我会被影响”的什么来着，会失去人性和理智（这两个词老师刚刚教过我，好难写啊。）我不知道她要说申么，我只觉得好像认识她，但是不知道她名字。
我今天是真的睡不着。他们都说我妈妈有那个申么毛病，叫申么郑啦，也记不得了，但是我觉得我更有这个毛病了。我只想知道我们申么时候回家，我已经待不住了。那些会动的青蛙已经吓死我了，妈咪居然都不信我的。为申么大人都不听小孩子的话呢？
醒醒啊，老爸，你吵得我睡不着啦。我推推老爸，才发现手被黏住了，而且冰冰凉—这不是平常的老爸！是史莱姆来了。我的后背，头发，脸也都很难受，就像被那个讨厌鬼托马斯＊涂满了胶水一样。弗兰迪老师刚给我们讲过季风气候。（老师你看，我记得这个词欸）
妈，季风气候来了。我叫她，但除了奇怪的叫声外没一点声音。声音好像还变复杂了。我一直在想它们是不是也和人一样说各种国的话。
外面有点天亮了，我终于可以不用再张着眼睛忍了。赶紧起床吧。
＊本章叙述者为他们的六岁儿子小杰，因此可能会有一些错误，恳请读者原谅。
＊ 托马斯经常欺负小杰。
5
天空湛蓝湛蓝的，像蔚蓝色的幕布作着棉花糖般朵朵白云的陪衬，白云们又围簇着那光芒万丈的太阳神，好像把他当成了今天的主角一样。天空已经再也不是一片灰蒙，没有哪天比今天更适合外出游玩的了。我向读者保证，这真的毫不夸张。
看起来小杰比我们俩更期待外出。他径直冲出了房间，含着满腔的热情冲向湖边。我俩没有办法，只能气喘吁吁地跟在后面，心里不由得怀疑小杰胸腔里不会是装着一台发动机吧。
然而，当我们到达湖边时，我的大脑瞬间一片空白，任由一支充满艺术想象力的画笔以精湛的技艺将最好的颜料铺画在我脑中—宝蓝色的天空倒映在湖水里，水天一色，远处的地平线就像是被魔法师抽走了一般。湖边的公寓也是匠心独具，那美妙的设计感融合了传统与前卫，让我想起了高迪＊的作品。
然而，这样的美好时光在我们走近湖泊时戛然而止，那清澈的湖水清澈又不清澈，明明很干净却完全望不见底，特别像涂了汞的镜子……等等，这面镜子可不得了，里面还倒映着三只青蛙头呢！瞬间，我大脑一阵眩晕，好像意识只在一瞬间就被这个湖抽干了似的。
“不，这不可能！”贝丝大叫起来。现在，这个女人已然是精神失常了，活像一只涂上了墨西哥辣椒酱呱呱乱叫的青蛙头。很快，我们就被围观了。围观群众纷纷掏出手机记录下了这场喧闹又讽刺意味十足的悲喜闹剧。我们听不到任何温柔的抚慰，只有揶揄，挖苦和冷漠，搞得好像我们是动物园里关在亚克力笼子里供人观赏的青蛙一家一样。他们的面孔上写满了“目中无人”和“趾高气昂”这几个字。霎时，我感觉他们的面容似乎在扭曲，他们尖酸的话语和放肆的笑容也都听不见了，取而代之的是一声声的蛙叫，和一条条挂在面颊上的细长舌头。耳畔响起的还不止这些，还有小杰和贝丝的哭喊，但是它们几乎都被蛙声掩盖，听起来就像是背景音乐一样。而且，这样的背景音乐只能让我在绝望中又生出了一分恼怒，变成了压垮骆驼的最后一根稻草。我就是那只骆驼。我感觉我的思绪和感官全部宕机了。
＊西班牙著名建筑设计师。
6
我已经想不起来我们干了些什么，只觉得耳朵和脑袋特别疼。小杰和我的丈夫都不见了。定这种度假村真是玩命，里面充斥着骇人的超自然力量。我真的不能相信这些突然出现在我信箱里的广告。我他喵的甚至都没有验证寄件人的身份，因为太懒了所以就懒得记下那么一大串名字，现在想来真是肠子都悔青了。今天外面居然是漆黑一片，没有星星，没有月光，更没有路灯。咕噜咕噜像打嗝一样的声音又响起了，但是比我之前在房间里听到的更清楚了。
就在那里。我自言自语道。我终于找到了来源，声音在水下产生，湖面依旧平静，但是回荡着咕噜咕噜的声音，水下有东西！我甚至都不知道我脑子里到底在想些什么，一股莫名的力量就驱使着我跳入湖中，我经常称之为“间歇性癫狂”。水下一片漆黑，冰冷刺骨，唯有的微光束也是转瞬即逝，在微光消失的位置，我看到了一只巨大的青蛙蹲坐在金銮宝座上。它腮帮子鼓起，吞噬着湖中的水，又把它们往外吐出，气泡挡住了它的脸。好大的青蛙！我感叹道。
愚蠢的人类。我是释迦牟尼！释迦牟尼！我没有看见任何人或动物在动嘴，但是我就是能听见这句话，而且效果特别像在脑子里开了我家的立体声音响一样。就在此时，我突然想起，那个寄信人好像就是署名为“释迦牟尼”的。这就是梵语里面“佛祖”的意思。它难道是青蛙中的佛祖？
我是释迦牟尼！我是释迦牟尼！你听到了没？！……这样的声音不断轰炸我的大脑，几乎让我崩溃。这里根本不是度假村，简直是人间炼狱！我试图发出绝望的呐喊，但是无济于事—此时我根本发不出任何声音。很快，那只青蛙离我越来越近，直到它和着湖水把我吞噬。
“哦天杀的，贝丝，我怎么会做这种噩梦？”我腾地从床上跳起，但是什么都看不到，眼前只是一片漆黑。
“今晚没有月光呐。”
“真令人失望。我还很期待今晚能看到壮观景象哩。你们想想，如画一般的湖泊当中倒映一轮明月，啧啧啧……”
“老妈，老姐，青蛙在动！”
“你又想骗人了哇！这只是青蛙主题的图案而已。”
终章
“您是怎么在这么短时间完成这么一项大工程的，市长先生？”
“当然是依靠努力。我们确实用了一些招数，但是到最后，你就会发现努力才是必杀技。”市长站在这座湖前，对着镜头说。这座湖现在焕发出了别样的生机与活力，听取蛙声一片。说罢，在保镖的簇拥下，市长如蛇一般钻到了自己的礼宾车里，坐在了那宽敞舒适奢华的后排座上，然后，他升起电动遮阳帘，撕下脸上的人皮面具，拿出一尊半身“佛像”，直视着它那凸出的眼球，用他那长着蹼的手一边摩挲着它，一边念起了咒语。
