You shove the key in your pocket and take off after the squirrel. He's FAST. He zigzags through the ferns and over a log and under a blackberry bush (ow) and you follow him all the way down the hill to the creek.

The squirrel hops across the creek on the rocks like it's nothing. Halfway across, he drops the tag, and it lands on a big lily pad right in the middle of the water. Sitting on the lily pad is the fattest, greenest frog you have ever seen in your life. He puts one foot on the tag and looks at you.

The squirrel is gone. The frog is not.

• Cross on the stepping stones to get to the lily pad.
• Build a raft out of sticks. Like a pioneer.

You hop from stone to stone. The fourth one wobbles and your left sneaker goes SPLOOSH into the water, but you make it to the big flat rock next to the lily pad.

The frog clears his throat. "Ahem. I," he says, "am Sir Reginald Puddlebottom the Third."

(Wren named him. I'm not allowed to change it.)

"This tag is now the property of the Creek," says Sir Reginald. "But I am a fair frog. Answer my riddle and it's yours. Get it wrong and... well. We'll see." He puffs up his throat. Here's the riddle:

• "Your shadow!"
• "The wind!"

You find some sticks and tie them together with vines. It looks great. It floats! You climb on.

It floats for about four seconds.

Then it comes apart and you're sitting in the creek holding two sticks while the current carries you down around the bend, past the frog (who is laughing), past the big rock, all the way to a beaver dam. Three beavers pull you out by your shirt.

"Oh good, a helper," says the biggest beaver. "We have a leak."

So you spend the afternoon packing mud into the dam with the beavers. It's actually really fun. When the leak is fixed, the littlest beaver hands you something she found floating in the water this morning. It's the TAG! On the back, in tiny letters, it says:

You walk home soaking wet and happy. Your mom is NOT happy about the mud.

"Hmph," says Sir Reginald Puddlebottom the Third. "Correct." He looks disappointed but he's a fair frog, so he flips the tag over to you with his foot.

On the back of the tag, in Grandpa's handwriting, it says:

You run all the way up the hill, past the oak, past the treehouse, and in the back door of Grandpa's house. Grandpa is at the stove in his old flannel shirt flipping pancakes. There's a stack about a foot tall.

"Took you long enough," he says. "Wash your hands. How's Reginald?"

"THE WIND?" says Sir Reginald. "THE WIND?!"

He starts laughing. He laughs so hard his throat puffs up like a balloon. He laughs so hard he rolls over on his back. He laughs so hard he rolls right off the lily pad and falls in the creek. SPLASH.

The lily pad bobs. The tag floats off it, right across the water, and bumps into your sneaker.

You pick it up. By the time Sir Reginald climbs back on his lily pad, dripping and still giggling, you're already halfway up the hill.

"That DOESN'T COUNT!" he yells after you.

It counts.