Chapter Fifty-One
It was chaos as usual at the breakfast table that morning. Things exploded, penguins flipped, rats ate, and everyone argued, bargained, bet, bickered, cackled, chatted, clucked, flew, flung, fought, grabbed, grumbled, guffawed, heckled, hit, joked, laughed, meeped, screamed, shouted, smacked, snatched, squawked, reached, talked, and otherwise... Well, created chaos as usual.
Kermit walked in, and the chaos continued- mounted, even. He went to the phone, and the chaos continued. He checked a number on a business card, lifted the phone, and dialed, and the chaos continued.
"Hello, Major Thomas?" he said.
The chaos crashed to a conclusion.
"This is..." Kermit gulped. "Private First Class Kermit the Frog..."
The Muppets collectively winced. Kermit didn't see it, but he was perfectly aware of it. After all, he was a Muppet, too.
"Uh sir, I was just wondering, um- If I
did go uh, go back... Um, when would I ship out?"
The Muppets looked at each other, bit their lips, and shook their heads.
"I see," Kermit said. "...No sir, I haven't decided yet. I need to discuss it with- uh, with the rest of my family."
At this, a few faint smiles appeared along the breakfast table. The
rest of his family, naturally, because
they were his family, too, just as much as anyone in the swamp.
"I know, sir," Kermit said. "...Yes sir. I will, sir."
Those Muppets who had teeth gritted them. Yes
sir, no
sir, of course
sir, whatever you say
sir... Kermit was the
leader, not the follower, and seeing him as subordinate to
anyone was, quite simply, wrong.
"Thank you, sir." Kermit paused a moment, then hung up the phone and quietly looked at it. Part of him hoped the chaos would resume. Part of him was grateful that it didn't.
"Well Boss?" Scooter said, unintentionally putting a little more emphasis than usual on the word 'boss' and intentionally breaking the silence. "When would you go?"
"First of February," Kermit said quietly.
Miss Piggy looked at the ring on her finger. "You would miss Valentine's Day," she said quietly.
Kermit frowned distinctly, still looking at the phone, and then smiled faintly. "I usually forget it, anyway," he said gently.
"Well... You'd still be home for Christmas," Fozzie pointed out.
"Yup," Kermit said. "Christmas, and New Year's, and a whole month after." He thought for a moment. "If I go," he added. He turned around, smiled at them, and walked towards his chair. "Let's have breakfast."
"Yeah, before
breakfast has
us," Rowlf said, poking at his plate.
Clifford glanced at the unidentifiable substance on Rowlf's plate. "Ever wish you ate dog food instead?" he asked.
"Nope," Rowlf said.
"Really?" Fozzie said, not believing.
"Really," Rowlf said. "If this is what the people-food in this house is like, I'm scared to see the dog food."
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Miss Piggy settled down in her bed. Kermit and Robin had left for the swamp that day, which meant there would be no kiss good night for her tonight. Still, if she closed her eyes she could almost imagine the feel of his soft, froggy lips...
She rolled onto her side and tugged the blanket up to her neck.
Imagining wasn't what she wanted.
Imagining wasn't going to convince her that he was okay tonight.
She touched her newest, most precious ring, remembering. She thought about the way he paced when he thought about going back. She thought about his promise to be happy. She thought about the way her ring made little rainbows when light hit the diamond just so, and how Kermit smiled when she twisted the ring to sprinkle the rainbows over his face and collar. Robin was the one who had first noticed those rainbows, dancing around Kermit's neck every time she handed him another brochure.
Miss Piggy felt an ache in her heart as she wished those rainbows were a little less circumstantial.
There was a gentle, apprehensive knock on the door.
She ignored it.
It came again, with a touch of urgency.
She rolled over, cupping her hand over her ring.
The knock came again, gently.
She took a deep breath and prepared her ever-diva voice. "Who is it?" she strangled a trill.
"It's Fozzie," the muffled voice said.
She sighed and pulled herself out of bed. She snatched her robe, wrapped it tight around her, and yanked the door open, wincing at the hallway light.
Fozzie held his hat in his hand, looking apologetic. "Rowlf and I thought you might want to talk," he explained, shifting his weight.
She held perfectly still for what, to Fozzie, seemed like a very long moment.
"That was very sweet of vous," she whispered. She smiled, and they walked to Fozzie and Rowlf's room.
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Kermit sat on the big flat rock, watching the big pot of soup his mother was stirring and slowly adding to. Neither of them had spoken for quite some time.
Kermit had all ready confessed to putting off telling her the reason for this surprise visit. He had explained to her everything that Major Thomas had explained to him. He had told her about all the reasons he didn't want to go. He had told her that he had promised Miss Piggy to be happy. And he had told her that he did not know what to do.
Not a word had been spoken since.
Kermit tried to enjoy the relative quiet. It was nice and peaceful in the swamp, and that was an atmosphere hard to come by in the Boarding House and the theater. He found that he had a little too much on his mind to truly appreciate it.
His mother waited, stirring the soup, slowly adding one ingredient at a time.
Finally, Kermit sighed. "You're not going to give me any advice, are you, Mom?" he asked quietly.
"You haven't given me all the facts yet," she said gently.
He straightened up slightly. "I haven't?"
She gave him a soft smile. "You told me why Major What's-His-Face thinks you might want to go," she explained. "You didn't say anything about why
you think you might want to go."
"Oh," Kermit said, quickly looking down at his flippers. He thought for a long moment. "Guilt," he finally whispered. He looked at her. "I feel like I owe them something, Mom. I feel..." He looked down again. "I can't forget what I did," he whispered.
She considered this briefly. "If it's something you can't forget," she said, "That usually means it's something you
shouldn’t forget. Unless it's a bad hairstyle, or so I've heard." She stopped stirring and looked at him. "What is it, son?" she whispered.
At this, he quickly looked at his left hand. His lip began to tremble, quickly followed by the rest of his body.
She watched him, and her jaw slowly began to drop. She stopped it from doing so. "Kermit. Come here."
He dropped his head and tried to calm his breathing, holding back tears that refused to come in the first place.
She let go of the spoon and walked to stand in front of him. For a moment, she looked down at the way he sat, half-curled into a ball. She knelt down, wrapped a maternal arm around him, and wiped the tears that were not there. "Why can't you tell me?" she whispered.
"It's terrible!" he choked. "It's
wrong, and it's everything I'm
not, Mommy..."
The tears that refused to come to his eyes suddenly sprung into hers. She could not remember the last time her oldest son had called her Mommy.
He cowered in her embrace. "It… It's everything you taught me not to be," he whispered.
She hugged him tight and rocked him. "Kermit... Kermit, my son..." She hugged him tight and rocked him... and something occurred to her. She straightened up and looked at him. "You couldn't hold yourself as well as you do if that was the only way you felt about what you did," she whispered evenly.
At first, he didn't seem to register that she had spoken. Then his mind jarred, and he froze, his muscles tight and tense.
"Kermit?" she said, and she repeated herself. "You couldn't hold yourself as well as you do if that was the
only way you felt about it."
He slowly looked up at her, wounded and baffled and lost and a great deal younger than he really was.
She lightly stroked the edge of his cheek. "Did something
good happen because of it?" she asked.
He looked up into her eyes for a moment, then gulped and looked away. After a moment, he said quietly, "Bob and Craig are alive."
She smiled a small smile. "Well then, Kermit," she said quietly, "If that's the case... I think you
did do what I taught you."
He looked at her. "...I did?"
"I think you did," she said matter-of-factly. She kissed the top of his head. "Think about that." She stood up and resumed stirring the soup.
He did.
It was a long while before he stood up again and stood beside the big pot and looked at the soup.
He was quiet for a long time.
"It's an awful price to pay," he finally murmured.
She nodded, stirring the soup. "Son," she said quietly, "Saving two lives is worth an awful lot."
He was quiet. "Yeah," he said quietly. "But we can't forgive ourselves, Mom." He looked at her. "All three of us. It follows us around all the time..." He looked at his left hand. "But
I’m the one who pulled the trigger," he said.
She looked at him.
He was staring at his left hand. He gulped. "I'm glad for Craig's sake it wasn't him," he murmured. "It's hard enough for him." He thought for a long moment, and sighed. "And Bob probably would have decided to go back, anyway, so- I'm glad it wasn't him, either." He gulped again. His entire face was frowning.
His mother stared at him. "Kermit the Frog," she said softly, "How on earth, do you dare to say a thing like that, and then turn around and think you're
not what I raised you to be?"
He smirked at her briefly and shifted his weight. "Bob and Craig are gonna be in town tomorrow," he said quietly. "I- I called them before I came... I'm gonna talk to them about it."
"That's very good," she said. After a brief moment, she stopped stirring the soup and looked at him. "And then you'll decide?" she whispered solemnly.
Kermit looked at her, looked down, and nodded. "And then I'll decide," he whispered weakly.
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Tradition is tradition- This here be my 4,000th post, and just like my 3,000th, 2,000th, and 1,000th... it's fanfic.
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