Piggy and Kermit were among the last to leave the kitchen. It was Kermit’s turn to wash, and—technically—it was Piggy’s turn to dry, but so far she had been standing in the corner with a cup of vanilla coffee and no sign of entering into work.
“You talked to him about the babysitting?” she asked.
Kermit made a noise. “Better not use that term in front of him,” he said. “You know it’s just going to start an argument.”
“Everything starts an argument nowadays,” Piggy said unhappily. “Honestly—it’s become impossible to say the right thing.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” Kermit groaned. “I seem to put my flipper in it every time I open my mouth. If you do something for him, he tells you he doesn’t need your help. If you don’t do something, you’re forgetting he’s alive. It’s a no-win some days.”
“But Kermie,” Piggy said gently. “Maybe he can’t help it right now. He’ll outgrow it, don’t you think?”
“I hope so,” Kermit said fervently. He looked so frustrated that Piggy leaned forward and pressed a comforting, friendly sort of kiss right on his froggy cheek by way of reassurance.
“He’ll come around. You’ll see.”
“Um, thanks Piggy. I…thanks for trying to cheer me up.”
“Of course, mon capitan,” she said softly, and was gone before he could remind her to dry the dishes.
“So—it’s been four days. What’s it like to be home, buddy?” Rizzo asked. Although he fully expected Gonzo to shoot him down, he was determined to be relentlessly cheerful. It was one way to deal with all the…intensity floating around now. Though no one had asked him—no one at all—Rizzo liked his way waaaay better than some of the other ways he’d seen people here try.
Gonzo actually appeared to be considering the question, which was good. That sharp, twisted little brain was still very much in evidence, and Rizzo felt his heart soar when I caught glimpses of it working.
“Well, the food’s bad.”
“Terrible,” Rizzo agreed.
“And there’s always a line for the bathroom,” he griped.
“Tell me about it,” Rizzo snorted.
“And our room has a strange musty odor all the time.”
“That’s you, buddy.”
“No,” Gonzo said. “Not that odor—the other one.”
Rizzo was thoughtful. “Oh,” he said. “I don’t knowwhat that is. The guys haven’t been over for poker in a while, so I don’t know. Anything else?”
“Beaker came running by yesterday with his hair on fire—again.”
“It is sooo hard to get good help. So…?”
“So…? Gonzo threw back.
“So…it’s just like old times, right?”
Gonzo was suddenly furious, suddenly ready to shout at Rizzo until the sound reverberated off the walls, but he looked at Rizzo’s hopeful, helpful face and suddenly could not do it. The anger was still there, however, crouched behind his tongue, so he gritted his teeth hard and counted to ten in his head.
“Not exactly,” he said at last, and though it sounded bitter, it was not designed to wound.
“Well, we’ll keep working on it,” Rizzo said. “Speaking of, um, Kermit talked to you about tomorrow, right?”
“He talked to me,” Gonzo grunted.
“About everybody going to the theater to get ready for the new show…?”
“Yes,” Gonzo said wearily. “He talked to me about babysitting.”
“Hey,” said Rizzo. “Don’t think of it that way. It’s not babysitting. It’s having a safe environment when the rest of the grownups aren’t home.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Gonzo muttered.
“Aw, c’mon—don’t be like that. You’ll be fine and it might even be fun.”
“Sure.”
“And I got you guys cheese doodles!” Rizzo cajoled, and saw a brief spark of interest flair.
“Goat cheese cheese doodles?”
“Um, sure—let’s go with that.” There was an awkward pause, but it was shorter and less awkward than other pauses had been. Things were definitely getting better, even if they weren’t good yet. “You, um, you want to go downstairs with me? I’m gonna look for a snack.”
“No, I’m good,” Gonzo said, patently unconvincing, but he was trying, and that was something.
Rizzo smiled. “You’re better than good, buddy. Glad to have you back.”
“So, like, are you ready for tomorrow?” Janice asked. She was tuning her two-toned guitar, listening for the hum of a loose string.
“It’s cool,” said Floyd, nodding complacently. “This hiatus has been a blast.“
“Especially that day we spent at the beach!” Janice interjected. She walked over and put a hand on Floyd’s bushy sideburn, turning his face so she could smile into his eyes. His arm snagged her around the waist and his bushy eyebrows rose.
“That was righteous, heh heh,” he murmured. “But I’m ready to lay down some bass again.”
“Can’t wait for the new show,” Janice agreed. She kissed him quick and then returned to tuning. “Did you, like, hear who’s gonna stay with Gonzo tomorrow while everybody else is gone?” she asked.
“Hard not to,” Floyd said. The entire house has been filled with worried speculation on how that idea would be received. Tomorrow would be the first time that Gonzo had stayed behind while Kermit and the regular cast and crew went on to the theater. “But it’ll be cool. Things change, babe, and we got to change along with them.”
Janice gave him one of his beatific smiles. “Ooh, like, honeybunch. You are soooo deep.”
Kermit finally made himself let go of the porch rail. He was glad to see himself do it, because he had been afraid, for several awful moments, that they were going to have to come and pry his little froggy fingers off the rail and drag him, their fearless leader, down to the theater over his protests. Good. Letting go was good.
He turned and walked down the walk to the sidewalk, climbed into the van, and let Fozzie drive him away. He worried and wondered about how things would go, with Gonzo at home and all of them at the theater, but he gritted his hard palate and tried not to fret.
“They’ll be fine,” said Fozzie, reaching over and patting Kermit’s shoulder with one big, furry paw. “Gonzo will do fine.”
Kermit let out a huge sigh. It wasn’t just Gonzo he was worried about.
“So,” said Gonzo.
“So,” said his companion, without enthusiasm.
“What do you want to do? Do we, like, have an agenda or something?”
“What’s an agenda?”
“Oh, um, it’s a list of things you’re supposed to accomplish.”
“No. I don’t think so.” There was a small huff. “I don’t have anything I’m supposed to do. This whole babysitting thing is stupid.”
“Tell me about it,” griped Gonzo. There was no response from the other figure in the room, and Gonzo had a sudden inspiration. “Why don’t you call the theater and tell them you don’t want to babysit me? I’m fine—I don’t need anybody.”
Two bright eyes looked up in disbelief. “Me? Babysit you? But—“
“Yeah, look, kid,” said Gonzo breezily. “You’ve probably got things to do, people to see. You probably didn’t even want to stay and watch after me today.”
“But—“
“And I don’t need, anybody—see? I can take care of myself when everybody’s gone.”
“Yeah, but—“
“Except for the feeding part,” Gonzo muttered with apparent resentment. “Darn,” he griped. “And Rizzo said their were cheese doodles.”
The bright eyes widened. “I—I could get the cheese doodles, Gonzo.”
“No, no—you’re probably busy. I don’t even know why they asked you to babysit.”
“But—I don’t mind, Gonzo. Really.”
Gonzo looked at his companion doubtfully. “Are you sure?”
“Sure, Gonzo. Besides, Uncle Kermit said I can’t come to the theater today because it’s the first big rehearsal after the break.”
“And because they’re fixing that big hole in the floor.”
“Yeah. That too. He said I have to stay here and be baby--, stay here and babysit, er, stay here and hang out with you today.”
“If you’re sure it’s not too much trouble,” Gonzo said.
Robin shook his head. He ran to the kitchen and came back with the bag of cheese snacks.
“Up here, buddy,” Gonzo said. Obediently, Robin hopped. Sitting cross-legged in Gonzo’s lap, Robin opened the bag and they both inhaled and went, “Ahhh.”
Inwardly, Gonzo smiled. Everybody else was at the theater, getting ready for the next performance and he was here, useless and depressed. Well, not entirelyuseless, he thought dryly. Kermit had been adamant that Robin not come to the theater until the hole in the floor had been repaired, and since Beauregard was doing the repairing, well, it might be several days. Kermit had fretted all weekend about hiring a strange sitter to, well, sit until Gonzo offered.
“Trust me,” he’d dead-panned. “I’ve got this sitting thing down pat.”
“I don’t know,” Kermit had said. “Robin is pretty ticked off at me for not letting him come. I don’t know how he’ll behave.”
“Eh, c’mon—the kid’s a brick, right? He’ll do what I say.”
Kermit had remained doubtful. “But—but what if you need help? With, um, Robin?” Kermit had added hastily at the flash of anger in Gonzo’s eyes.
“I’ve got my emergency button,” Gonzo insisted. “It’s voice activated.” He gave Kermit a look. “Call Rowlf!” Gonzo said, and they both heard dialing.
“Um, hello?”
“Um, hi Rowlf. This is Gonzo.”
“Oh, hi Gonzo. What’s up? You need anything?”
“Nope. Just checking out the phone. Okay?”
“Sure—no problem.”
“Good-bye.”
“Later, Gonzo.”
Gonzo looked at Kermit. “Look—I know your first choice would be a responsible adult, but you may have to compromise. How’s this—he’s responsible, and I’m the adult.”
Kermit smiled tentatively. “If you think you’re up to it, I’ll talk to him. He, um, won’t like the idea of a sitter.”
“Me either,” said Gonzo. “We’ll have that in common.”
Now, however, Robin seemed not only content but happy with the arrangement. He reached in the bag and pulled out a crunchy, cheesy morsel and held it up to Gonzo’s nose.
“Cheese doodle?” Robin asked.
“Sure kid,” said Gonzo. “Don’t mind if i do!"
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