Reflections in Foam

[Java]

Chapter 6

“So, you don’t remember it that way?” Kermit looked over at his friend, unable to make out the expression in the light of the campfire. “Funny thing about memory is that time changes it.”

Kermit continued talking as he got up to walk around the campsite they had made. “Take Scooter, when he joined us it was only going to be for a trial of a few weeks at my suggestion. If you ask him now, he swears he was the one who brought it up because he had just the skills we needed.” Kermit pause a moment before making his point “Sometimes things seem a lot easier when you get farther away from them, making it seem like you were wrong in the first place.”

A sigh echoed across the space. Well, that’s the best response I’ve gotten all day, he thought before continuing on. “At least let me get through a few more stories before you make a decision. But right now I think we should turn in before we’re greeting the morning sun.”

* * * * *

“Just wait.” Scooter said placing his hands over his eyes. “There has got to be a better way to figure this out.”

Fozzie was wringing his hat in his hands as he looked around the kitchen, unable to see anything past the table they had used only a simple reading lamp to light. Rowlf leaned in closer over the jumbled list they had made causing Fozzie to protest.

“Now I can’t see,” he was very close to whining as he scanned the room again and listened for the sounds of plops coming down the stairs.

“Foz,” Rowlf whispered, “I checked on him and he’s in bed, fast asleep dreaming about going to Sesame Street tomorrow. Now,” he continued turning to Scooter, “start over with the first call and go slowly.”

“Okay, Janice called upset because Rizzo had just found her and said that he had lost track of Gonzo,”

“Well, when you’re that concerned with your stomach all the time it’s easy to get lost from your group.” Rowlf muttered picking up the pad and turning to a new page.

“And Rizzo said that he had run into Bert as he was getting ready to leave without Ernie to go back to Sesame Street. Bert mentioned that he had seen Kermit driving away but couldn’t see who was in the car with Kermit.”

“Okay, stop right there.” Rowlf took a deep breath with the hopes to keep his wits about him as he had never seen Scooter this flustered. “We know that we can cross Janice, Rizzo, Bert and Ernie off of the list as to who Kermit’s with.”

“Wait,” Fozzie broke in, “Didn’t she say that Rizzo had only seen Bert because he was leaving alone, that Ernie was staying behind.”

“Right” Scooter started plowing back into the story as Rowlf dragged the eraser across the page. “Janice was sure that Rizzo hadn’t seen Ernie because there was a rubber duck convention in town and Bert just wanted to get back home.”

“Okay, so that leaves us sure that it isn’t Rizzo, Bert, Janice, or Gonzo.”


“But Rizzo had lost Gonzo,” Fozzie interjected.

Rowlf only sighed as he erased Gonzo’s name from the list. “What else did she say, Scooter?”

“Well, she started to say something about Camilla but was interrupted by Floyd who was adamant that she get off the phone because of something about Dr. Teeth and Zoot missing and they had a gig in two hours.”

“Did they find them?” Fozzie began scratching his head as he became lost in all the names.

“I don’t know, I haven’t talked to Janice again.”

“Maybe this would be easier to start if we list everyone that is in the Colorado area right now,” Rowlf muttered as he brushed off rubber from the paper he had cleaned again.

“Okay,” Scooter started, sure of this list. “Miss Piggy was going to be in the area for some ‘private family matters’ as she put it.”

“Right,” Fozzie drew his finger in a check mark through the air, “And Gonzo was taking Camilla to the lake where they where going to attempt to revive the water skiing act with the chorus of chickens clucking the William Tell Overture.”

Scooter picked up speed as he watched Rowlf list all the names. “And the Electric Mayhem are touring so that puts Dr. Teeth, Zoot, Animal, Janice, Floyd, and Lips in that whole seven state area. Bert and Ernie are on a fishing trip, Rizzo and Pepe are with Gonzo, Oscar may have decided to visit some of the junkyards in Arizona, Bear is camping in Wyoming, Bean’s in Kansas at a family reunion…”

They were interrupted when the back door let out a long squeak and the trio turned to see who was trying to sneak into the house at two am without disturbing the residents.

“At last!” Rowlf cried out in frustration, “we can eliminate Clifford from the list!”

“I didn’t think he was ever on it,” Fozzie replied warily as Clifford dropped his bags while exclaiming “What list?”

“At this point, Fozzie, I think everyone’s on the list,” Scooter sighed and slumped in his chair as Rowlf brought Clifford up to date with the latest Muppet news.

“Man,” Clifford began at almost a whisper, “at this point I think all you can do is to collect stories and eliminate people one by one that way. Your list should consist of only those you know are not in trouble.”

“In that case,” Scooter said as he ripped a page off of his clipboard, “the only ones we know for sure are Kermit, me, Fozzie, Rowlf, Clifford, Robin, and the Swedish Chef.”

“That’s a lot of Muppets we’ve left off.”

“If that’s the case than we should only take group vacations from now on,” Rowlf chuckled, “then we won’t give anyone the chance to get in trouble.”

“Man, that’s worked so well for us before.” Clifford moaned as he thought of all the stories he’d heard of all the Muppet outings over the years.

“Well, I guess we should call it a night then,” Scooter mentioned with a yawn. “After all someone’s got to take Robin to Sesame Street tomorrow.”

The house was eerily silent as they headed off to bed, minds still churning as they felt unable to help a friend.

 

[The Count]

Tired... Own list... Thank you.

 

[Java]

Tired... Own list...

Yea, that's how I felt as this chapter came to life. And Robin's excitement about Sesame Street can almost be as overwhelming, but you'll see that when I'm able to finish editing it.

 

[Java]

Has Robin ever been in a Sesame Street skit?

 

[Skeeter Muppet]

Has Robin ever been in a Sesame Street skit?

I don't think so.

-Kim

 

[The Count]

Not unless you count the times he's visited in our fanfics. The closest approximation to Robin on Sesame Street, in my estimation, would have to be a completely different character named... The Caribbean Amphibian, from the song of the same name.
Hope this helps.

 

[redBoobergurl]

Hadn't had a chance to read the latest chapter until now, but it's great! I love how the suspense keeps building as to who is actually with Kermit in that car! I just can't wait to read more!

 

[Java]

Thanks for the answers! That's what I thought but wanted to double check.

 

[Java]

oops.

 

[Java]

Chapter 7 -Cliffords Story

The purple foot started taping gently on the bass drum as he cradled the guitar in his lap waiting to pick up on the chords that gave the song an edge. Behind him Scooter was wrestling Robin into a jacket while Fozzie worried his tie again.

Rowlf stood at the top of the stairs, waiting to hear what Clifford would sing, and hoping the day on Sesame Street would be a good one for the trio.

“I must’ve dreamed a thousand dreams
Been haunted by a million screams
But I can hear the marching feet
They’re moving into the street.”

“Do I have to wear the jacket, it really is warm. Oh, do you think that I’ll be able to talk to Big Bird? I wonder if Grover is there. Are you sure that Bert and Ernie have really left for a fishing trip…”

Rowlf smiled as he listened to the unending list of questions that were only quieted by the slamming of the Studebakers doors as Fozzie readied to pull away from the boarding house. He listened as Clifford’s voice rose and took on an edge not normally heard. Sitting back on the couch, he closed his eyes and let the sounds of the music flood over him.

”Now did you read the news today
They say the danger’s gone away
But I can see the fires still alight
There burning into the night.”

As he picked up speed rising into the crescendo of the first chorus, Rowlf wished that he were more skilled on the guitar so that Cliff would have been able to concentrate on the drums, but he was faring well just taping the bass drum and working the melody on the guitar.

“There’s too many men
Too many people
Making too many problems
And not much love to go round
Can’t you see
This is a land of confusion.

This is the world we live in
And these are the hands were given
Use them and lets start trying
To make it a place worth living in.”

Rowlf knew of two versions of this song, one by Genesis and one by Disturbed. Clifford easily rivaled both, he thought noting it at the top of his clipboard.

”Ooh superman where are you now
When everything’s gone wrong somehow
The men of steel, the men of power
Are losing control by the hour.

This is the time
This is the place
So we look for the future
But there’s not much love to go round
Tell me why, this is a land of confusion.

This is the world we live in
And these are the hands were given
Use them and lets start trying
To make it a place worth living in.

I remember long ago -
Ooh when the sun was shining
Yes and the stars were bright
All through the night
And the sound of your laughter
As I held you tight
So long ago –“

Clifford broke off as he went into the musical solo, staring straight at Rowlf, unable to shake a feeling of uneasiness.

“You know, sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had remained at the school. Life sure would have been different.”

“I can imagine. How did you come by us?”

“It was the frog…” he muttered closing his eyes and thinking back.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *​

Jefferson HS, WashingtonDC, 1988

Chaos reigned in high schools, but more so during the last week than at any other time of the year. Most teachers were struggling to keep their audience of those that they felt were moody know-it-alls. Most teachers kept their distance from students and didn’t want to be involved with personal affairs or the current music scene and trends that their students wanted. But there were always a select few who remained part of the cool crowd when teaching.

Even if you didn’t enjoy classes, the cool teacher made them bearable to get through. As it was with Mr. Cliff. At least that’s what he let his students call him. As an English teacher he thought to inspire but used all available resources – including his minor degree in music.

The bell rang and Clifford watched as most of his students jumped up and sped out of class and a handful remained firmly glued to their seats, watching his every move. He took his seat and crossed his legs as he watched the rest of his drama club meander into the room, take their seats and stare intently at him.

He shook his head, remaining silent as he thought of these students. This group that was a catch all for those that didn’t fit in anywhere else. Writers, poets, actors, singers, puppeteers, artists, technical crew – all of them fit comfortably into three or four to the categories and uncomfortably everywhere else in the school. They were his greatest pride, a secret one that he molded and worked hard to change their lives for the better.

Clifford raised his eyebrow gently before speaking, “You know, we don’t have our end of year party until Friday.”

The group remained in their seats and he looked for the one that would be brave enough to ask him if the rumor that was floating around the school was true.

Finally, Marilyn, a quiet girl who mostly did tech work, took the plunge; “Mr. Cliff, please tell us that what we hear isn’t true. You aren’t really leaving, are you?”

They had to wait on his answer as the group erupted into shouts – “How could you? Your not going to? You have to be with our graduating class, just wait one more year, please? Mr. Cliff now, don’t do this to us? They’re just rumors, right?”

He held up his hand, silence falling slowly across the room, looking each in the eye before speaking. He sighed, steadying himself. Of everyone he taught, these were the only he felt a connection to anymore. They were the only that mattered. Unfortunately, the group was thinning and his purpose was becoming lost. “This had not been an easy decision for me but the rumors are true and when the year comes to an end next week, I will be moving on from teaching.”

Clifford expected the room to riot in noise again, but instead, his heart fell into his stomach as they sat silently digesting what he had said.

“You all have taught me a lot but I certainly think that my talents would be better placed elsewhere at this time. I’m sorry.”

He watched as they were uncertain of what to say next and as the wheels started to turn in their minds as to how they would see him off at their party on Friday. Gently he picked up his guitar and started to sing Every Rose has its Thorn, one of the newly popular songs that didn’t quite fit the situation but that they could appreciate anyway.

Clifford looked up after playing a few more songs and saw that all the students had trickled out of the room and he placed the guitar on the floor, starting to pack up for the day. He was startled as a voice floated to him from the back of the room.

“You would fit in well with us. Reaching those who need it, teaching, keeping up with the latest trends. Yes, you would fit in well with us.”

Clifford raised his eyebrow gently as he looked at the frog that had made his way to stand beside him.

“You think?”

“Oh,” Kermit looked quizzically at him, “no. Not really. I was just thought it would be nice to say that.”

Clifford gently laughed, smiling at the dry wit exuded from the amphibian. “I have so many other offers though.”

“Yes, and they won’t fit you. But you’re welcome to try them out if you want. We’ll keep your place open.”

Clifford watched as Kermit walked out the door. There was something to the offer, but he couldn’t shake the thought that the frog might be mistaken.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *​

“Yea,” Rowlf spoke for the first time interrupting the telling of the story, “I remember thinking that Kermit had to be out of his mind if he thought I would fit in. There weren’t as many of us when he approached me. I can only imagine the same thing going through your mind.”

“And I was foolish enough to fight it by trying other bands. I delayed joining up for almost a year.”

“What was it that convinced you?”

Clifford went back to picking gently at the guitar his foot tapping the rhythm on the bass drum once again. “Solid Foam,” he whispered before sliding back into the song.


”I wont be coming home tonight
My generation will put it right
We're not just making promises
That we know, well never keep.

Too many men
There’s too many people
Making too many problems
And not much love to go round
Can’t you see
This is a land of confusion."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *​

The figure stood alone on the mountain top, looking as the sun broke through the clouds almost overwhelming the area by drenching light. Looking back at the campsite, the colors were fading and memories were changing.

The voice carried from another place entirely, locking the figure in place, unable to choose one path or another.

”Now this is the world we live in
And these are the hands were given
Use them and lets start trying
To make it a place worth fighting for.

This is the world we live in
And these are the names were given
Stand up and lets start showing
Just where our lives are going to.”