Page 108 - November 2020
P. 108

                                                                                       November 2020

                                                      An Army of Frogs
              Greg  made  an  incision  with  his  dissecting  scissors  into  the  lower  abdomen  and
              then  cut  along  the  sides  of  the  frog  to  make  a  flap  of  the  skin  and  abdominal
              musculature.    He  then  lifted  the  flap  back  and  cut  it  off,  exposing  the  internal

              organs that his teacher called the viscera. The exposed innards of the frog were
              such an appalling sight that it made Greg want to heave his breakfast.

              “Now cut off the intestine and urine duct from the hip to free the viscera from the
              body,” said Mrs. Worton.

              “Be careful not to touch the nerve when cutting.”

              Many  nerves  were  touched  in  the  classroom,  and  most  of  them  belonged  to  the
              students. As he snipped through muscle fascia, hemostats, and the sciatic nerve of
              his frog, Greg felt
              terrible.  He thought about the trauma he underwent weeks earlier, the day he had
              to get a stupid TB test. And that was simply a prick of his skin while his frog, who

              was  alive  and  breathing  when  he  first  held  him,  was  now  dead  and  Greg  was
              ordered to remove its skin because Mrs. Worton said the skin represented one of
              the ten body systems a frog needs in order to survive. One of the ten body systems
              they needed to expose and explore.  She called the skin the Integumentary System,
              but flaying the frog proved too much for Greg.  He lay down his scalpel and put a
              paper towel over his torn, mutilated amphibian.

              “Hey, Mrs. Worton,” said Victor.  “What are gonna do we do with all of these frogs
              after we’re done?”

              “Victor, do you know what you call a group of frogs?”

              Victor shrugged.” What do you mean?”

              Mrs. Worton smiled.

              “Well, a group of fish is called a school.  A group of geese are called a gaggle.  A
              group of birds are called a flock.  A group of horses are called a herd.  But what do

              you call a group of frogs?”

              “Butchered,” muttered Greg.

              Mrs. Worton once again ignored Greg’s comment. “A group of frogs are called an
              army. An army of frogs.”
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