Frog and Bunny is what they called one another in high school and still do when they’re together. However, high school was close to fifteen years ago and to Bonnie these names no longer fit.
Frank (or Frog) likes to recreate the old days whenever they happen to meet. Using those names helps him to imagine they’re watching the same inner-movies together as he narrates their past. Bonnie (or Bunny) lets him talk because she can see how his worn-down tattered face lights up when he does.
After years of dead-end jobs, two years ago Bonnie saved enough to buy a five-year old Camry and become a Realtor. She hand waxes her Camry every month and keeps the interior smelling fresh and spotless. She has her picture on-line and in a magazine, too. Her Realtor smile gives no hint of a life before selling real estate or of her run-down two room apartment, or that anyone has ever call her Bunny, but rather it portrays a radiant, youngish, successful woman who wants nothing more than to make your life as grand as hers. Her clients want to think of her as one of their own, that she too believes that appearance and status and sharp looking lawns and shiny cars really do matter. They do not have friends named Frog.
Weekly sales meetings, quarterly sales rallies, and mentorship by her sales-team have groomed Bonnie to meet the sort of people that will make her rich, and Bonnie is fast becoming the sort of person she at first was pretending to be. Status, appearances, and who can help and who can hinder have become the ties that hold her world together. Her constantly ringing phone keeps her in check.
Bonnie’s friendship with Frank has become a strain. She is tired of pretending that she hasn’t changed. The last time she and Frank met on the sidewalk outside city hall and he called her Bunny she was reminded of how self-conscious she is of her large breasts. She had been considering having them reduced and formed. She is not Bunny, she is Bonnie and Bonnie is on her way to success.
The last time they met Frank was enjoying his morning wandering around chatting with most anyone that happened by his view. He was in love with the morning, the sidewalk, the people, and the mysteries that were unfolding with each step he took. He was hurt by Bunny’s discomfort when they met outside city hall. He felt bad for her. It reminded him of something he had read years ago; be careful who you pretend to be because in the end that’s who you are.”
Frank was glad he had a past. Frank and Frog were woven together. The name Frog gave weight to his step. Even though the town was filling in with new people it didn’t occur to him to change to fit their image of success. He told them his name was Frog. He worked hard and he got paid a fair wage, simple as that. He liked his rowdy ways. He owed a smile to no one and could care less if his truck smelled nice. He kept his word, and he kept his past alive. He wasn’t changing for no one. He watched the world pass by. He had hoped Bunny would be his friend forever but lately she has been acting like a real dipshit.