A Heart of Gold

[TheWeirdoGirl]

Lisa, seeing that there is a new chapter on this story made my day go from decent to very good.

 

[Misskermie]

OMG, just caught up!


AHHHHH!!!


All I say to you is MORE!

 

[redBoobergurl]

I'm so happy to read an update in this story Lisa. It's still brilliant. Looking forward to more.

 

[Muppetfan44]

This is the one story that I promise, you should never give up waiting for until the day it's done.

will never give up on this story...it's one of my favorites!

Please post more soon and if you could, a little ush gush between Kermit and his fiancee back home wouldn't hurt either!!

 

[Muppetfan44]

putting one of my favorite fics to the top of the list.

Hope you update soon!

 

[Vincent L]

putting one of my favorite fics to the top of the list.

Hope you update soon!

Sadly, Lisa is last seen Jan 16, 2013.

 

[misspiggy5260]

Where is Lisa! WHERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

[TogetherAgain]

Chapter Eighty-One

It was the end of the day, and Chris was sweeping up Hooper’s Store, whistling to himself about the people in the neighborhood, when he saw a newspaper that someone had left on the floor. It was open to a page that had the headline SESAME’S FORESIGHT.

“Huh,” he said as he bent down to pick the paper up, thinking he would skim the article quickly. His intentions changed as soon as he saw the first sentence: Sesame Street made a wise decision years ago when they cut ties with Kermit the Frog.

Chris read the first paragraph of the article, and then the second. He gulped and stepped into a corner to keep reading, hoping no one would come into the store. He still hadn’t finished the article when he straightened up. “Alan? I think… we might have a problem,” he said nervously.

They skimmed the article together, and then they took action. “Let’s get everyone together. We need a meeting,” Alan said. Fortunately, it was late enough that everyone was about to close up, anyway, and it didn’t take much walking for Chris to either find or run into everyone he was looking for.

With the adults assembled in Hooper’s Store, they spread the newspaper out on the counter and gathered around to read the article together.

“Sesame Street clearly made an excellent judgment call,” Bob quietly, grimly read. “They must have seen years ago that Kermit was not the family-friendly frog he pretended to be, but a…” His voice trailed away, and he shook his head. “I can’t finish that sentence. I’m not saying that.”

“No,” Susan agreed, scarcely audible, and Gordon set his hand on her shoulder.

“They think that we think he’s a killer,” Maria said incredulously.

“He’s not,” Susan said firmly.

“Of course not,” Bob said. “But they think that we specifically… banned him from the Street, because we thought… They think that we think he’s a… a bad… person.”

“Which isn’t true!” Gordon said. “I mean, how they’re saying it is not what happened at all.”

“And we know that,” Chris said firmly, because he knew how much the people around him needed to know that someone knew that they cared about Kermit. “We just need to tell everyone that.”

The others all started to nod and try to think about how to tell everyone the truth, but Susan stopped and pressed her hands against the counter. “No… We can’t,” she said softly, and she looked around at everyone else. “We’ve all seen the news. We all know what the country thinks about this war, and how divided everyone is.” She shook her head. “If we announce that we support Kermit, the whole country will turn against us, too.”

A harsh silence settled over the store. Because it was true. It was painfully true.

“We can’t have the country turned against us,” Alan said quietly, reluctantly. “We can’t afford that. What we do is too important.” His shoulders slumped and his head dropped forward, because saying those words felt like taking a punch.

“Wait. They can’t…” Chris looked at his aunt and uncle. “They can’t take us off the air, can they?”

“It won’t matter, if people stop watching us,” Maria said, hugging herself tight. Luis wrapped an arm around her.

“And we’re not invincible, either,” Susan said. “If we’re on the wrong side of any controversy… And when it’s something this big… And—what people who support the war are being called, these days…” She shook her head. “We can’t risk it,” she whispered.

Bob stood over the open newspaper with his hands on either side of it, his head hanging low between his shoulders. He lifted his hand and pushed at the paper with a single finger. “So we have to let everyone think that this is true?” he said quietly, and then he straightened up and answered his own question. “No. We won’t.”

“But we can’t come out and say that we support killing children!” Gordon said.

“We don’t have to,” Bob said. “We don’t have to talk to anyone in public about any of this.” He firmly closed the newspaper and turned it over. “We just need to talk to Kermit.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

Like the rest of his unit, Kermit was keeping a watchful eye on the sky, looking for the first sign of a delivery. They were holding still today, resting and waiting to receive the food and water they so desperately needed—and with those supplies, hopefully, would come letters from home.

Kermit was writing a letter while he waited. Geraldson and Larsen were both on computers, e-mailing their loved ones, and Holt was filming—well, digitally, anyway—a game of catch between Pine, Plank, Casper, and Emerson. Cogswell was sitting next to Kermit, carefully rubbing his shoulder and stretching it.

“Think we’ll get any painkillers this load?” Cogswell asked with a sigh.

Kermit looked up from his letter and gave his fellow Marine a sympathetic smile. “Probably,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean you’ll get any. That’s up to the Corporal in the med tent.”

Cogswell groaned and laid down on the ground. “I… really hate this shoulder.”

“Yup,” Kermit said. “Sounds about right.”

“At least you had meds.”

“At least you don’t have to fly with that shoulder,” Kermit countered. “With the pressure change? There wasn’t anything strong enough to take care of that kind of pain.”

“Yeah, but you got to go home,” Cogswell said softly, and he stared up at the sunny sky.

Kermit gave him a curious look. “You never talk about home,” he said. “You always just say how you want to see the country.”

“I want to see everything,” Cogswell murmured. “I want to see the Northern Lights. I want to see Mount Rushmore. And the Rockies. And the Empire State. I want to see the Golden Gate Bridge. I want to see the Sequoias. I want to see the Hollywood sign.”

“The Hollywood sign isn’t that great,” Kermit said.

Cogswell groaned. “C’mon, Frog. Let me have my delusions,” he said.

“Sorry,” Kermit said. “But it’s just a bunch of giant letters.”

“Alright, so what is worth seeing in LA?” Cogswell asked.

“The Muppet Theater,” Kermit said wistfully.

Cogswell turned his head to look at him. “I think you’re biased.”

“Yup.”

“I still want to see the Hollywood sign.”

“Suit yourself. You should stop by the theater while you’re in town.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

Kermit chuckled. “Finish your stretches, Cogswell,” he said.

Cogswell groaned, mostly from pain, as he slowly pushed himself upright again. “Yes sir,” he muttered.

“Don’t call me sir,” Kermit said automatically.

“I will call you sir. Just because it annoys you,” Cogswell said, grimacing as he resumed his stretches.

Kermit scrunched his face. “So?”

“So, you’re annoying. Nagging me about stretches,” Cogswell said.

“I’m not annoying,” Kermit reasoned. “I’m a big brother.”

“That’s the same thing,” Cogswell said, and he reached over to give the frog a hard shove.

“Hey!” Kermit shoved him back—careful of the injured shoulder, of course—and they both laughed.

The conversation meant that Kermit didn’t notice when Geraldson got up from his computer and addressed Major D. in hushed tones, with Larsen attentively listening in.

It wasn’t long before some of the Marines started noticing something in the sky, and soon they were all looking up and pointing. They had confirmation long before their eyes could quite identify what they saw, but still they watched the approaching black shapes.

“Look, it’s a bird!” Emerson said playfully, pointing with exaggerated enthusiasm. “It’s a plane! It’s—It’s FOOD!”

The other Marines either laughed or groaned, and then Casper eagerly pointed up. “It’s WATER!” he shouted.

“It’s MAIL!” Pine declared.

“It’s work, boys. Hop to it,” Major D. said sternly, and they were all on their feet to retrieve the new delivery. All of the essentials had to be packed into place before the parcels marked MAIL could even be opened. With that kind of incentive, the work went quickly, and finally they heard the announcement of “MAIL CALL!”

They scurried into line for their letters. Kermit tried to be patient as he waited for his turn, but he was still empty-handed when Major D. called out, “FROG! Come here a minute. We need to chat.”

Kermit froze and felt a twist in his stomach, knowing that obeying would mean losing his place in line. Major D. knew that, and he knew how important a letter could be. He never interrupted a mail call…

“FROG! NOW!”

Kermit gulped. “Yes sir,” he said. Quickly but reluctantly, he left his place in line, and the camera automatically followed.

“Holt! You get your mail,” Major D. ordered.

Kermit felt another twist in his gut, but he nodded to Holt, who also looked uneasy about this. “Yes sir,” Holt said, and he got back in his place in line.

Kermit didn’t waste another second rushing to stand at attention and salute the Major. “Sir,” he said. Only then did he notice the thick stack of envelopes in the Major’s hand; but of course, he was at attention, and he pretended not to see it.

“Come here, Frog,” Major D. snapped, and he turned on his heel and started marching away from the other Marines, towards the privacy of a large tent. “I need to have a word with you. You’ve been taking my fork again, haven’t you?”

Now? The Major was doing his interrogation routine now? It was supposed to be a game to keep their spirits up, not a delay to a mail call; but there was no choice but to go along with it. “No, sir. I haven’t touched your fork,” Kermit said resignedly.

“Frog, my fork has been missing,” Major D. said sharply.

“I don’t know anything about that, sir,” Kermit said.

“I know you don’t, Frog,” Major D. said, suddenly soft and quiet, which was almost more alarming than the shouting was. He led Kermit into the tent. “I do need to talk to you, though. Seems that nephew of yours is starting quite the little movement back home.”

Kermit’s every nerve had gone on edge at the word nephew, and he wasn’t sure if it was from panic or excitement. “Robin?” he said.

“Darndest thing,” the Major said, speaking more as if he were addressing the tent wall than the Lance Corporal. “Guess he somehow got everyone to notice how bad people have been treated if they support the war. Now they’re all talking. Saying how families—spouses, kids, parents—are all getting a hard time if they’ve got a family member in the service. Harassment, even. They’re all coming forward now, saying how they’ve been treated. And I guess the country’s figuring out that it’s not quite right how—oh, in some cases, for instance, people have had to ask for police protection, just for supporting the war.”

Kermit tried to swallow the very large lump that had somehow formed in his throat. “I didn’t realize it had gotten that bad at home…”

“Oh, it isn’t like that for everyone,” Major D. said dismissively. “Won’t be like that for anyone soon, the way things are headed now. Thanks to your nephew, I guess.”

And that was the intriguing part. “What… What exactly did Robin do, sir?” Kermit asked, watching the Major intently.

Major D. folded his arms and tilted his head, still staring at the tent wall like it was a fascinating painting. “Seems to me… He got angry,” he said. “Something about… some kind of protest, somewhere by his school? I guess it pushed some buttons, and he wanted to do something about it.”

Without even realizing it, Kermit slid his hand into his pocket and touched what he knew just by feel was the picture of himself with his nephew. Robin was… taking a stand? Pride and worry swelled up against each other in his chest.

“Of course, those… folks you live with, they’ve been pretty protective of him. Keeping him pretty sheltered,” Major D. said.

And just like that, pride won, because he knew his nephew was safe. Kermit stood a little straighter.

“But he’s a brave little fella,” Major D. mused. “Rumor has it, he wants to do an interview about the whole thing. And I guess they might let him. With supervision, I would guess.” He finally looked at Kermit. “At any rate, Frog, my point is that nobody wanted you to worry about him. But I thought you should hear all of that before you got your mail.” He handed over most of the stack of envelopes in his hand.

Kermit felt his jaw drop. This was his mail! He didn’t have to go wait in line to get it; the Major had gotten it for him, and the letter on top of the pile was from Robin. “Oh—thank you, sir!”

Major D. barely nodded. “Dismissed, Frog. Go read your mail.”

“Yes sir!” Kermit saluted so hastily that he nearly poked himself in the eye before he darted out of the tent and tore open the first envelope. He read slowly and walked even slower. The first six words were always the same:

Dear Uncle Kermit,

I MISS YOU!

We are all at the swamp now. I wish you were here, too. It’s lots of fun! It’s crowded. But we’re all happy. I think Zoot and Uncle Noah are friends now. They both don’t talk. And Gonzo and Croaker get along great, wich witch which (Dad is helping me spell) Uncle Todd said is danjerus dangerous. And Aunt Maggie said to tell you she doesn’t like Pepe, but I think she does like pushing him in the pond. She does that a lot, and Aunt Piggy cheers. Aunt Piggy and Aunt Maggie are friends now, too. Dad said that shood should scare you, but I don’t think so.

We were here for my birthday! We had a great big party for me and my brothers and sisters. It was FUN! We sang and played games and Grandma made lots and lots and LOTS of cake! I ate your pee peace piece for you. Don’t tell. Can you beleev believe I’m finally six?

“No, Robin,” Kermit murmured to the paper, “I can’t believe you’re six.” And he kept reading.

 

[misspiggy5260]

LISA!! YOUR BACK!! WOO HOO!

 

[Twisted Tails]

Wow! I am now all caught up with this story already. Thanks for posting, Lisa!