A Heart of Gold

[Vincent L]

*blink blink*
Huh? Am I awake?

 

[TheWeirdoGirl]

*passes out from surprise/disbelief*

 

[TogetherAgain]

Yes, Vin, you ARE awake! But TheWeirdoGirl isn't. Or at least, not anymore... Oops.

Ready for the next shocker? The next shocker is... I'll probably post more tomorrow! I say "probably," because it depends whether or not I shoot my computer first. I'm having some issues. Microsoft Word keeps freezing up on me, so I have to close and reopen the document after every two or three sentences. RIDICULOUSLY frustrating... But I've still managed to write over a thousand words tonight, so assuming I get back on track again tomorrow... good things will happen.

 

[misspiggy5260]

Just a question but Did anyone else break into song when You saw that Lisa posted? Cuz I did!

 

[JimAndFrank]

OMG! You're back, you're back, you're back. Yaaaaaay! This story was FAR too Muppetational to leave in the dust!!!!

 

[lady piggy]

Like omg your back and not just back ,but your continuing this beautiful and wonderful story yeaaa !!!!!!
See even kermits happy (points at kermit smiley)

 

[Vincent L]

It's amazing that Robin spelled "dangerous" correctly, I can't do that without autocorrect.

 

[Slackbot]

Lisa! Welcome back! Welcome to more fic!

 

[Misskermie]

*jaw drops*

Update?
...
D: WAT?



What's more surprising is that you might post tomorrow too.

But hey, Kermit can't believe he's six...
I can't either.

More please!

 

[TogetherAgain]

Chapter Eighty-Two

Kermit read on and on as Robin’s letter described his birthday celebration and how all of the Muppets were getting along with all of the inhabitants of the swamp—and the swamp itself.

They don’t all like sleeping on the ground, so we made beds! I helped. Not everyone wanted one. Rowlf likes the ground, and not all the monsters fit on beds. It’s really weerd wierd weird to see beds in the swamp, but Aunt Piggy likes it and Grandma says it’s really nice to have all of us here. We made the beds by your log, and we all sleep around it. But sometimes I sleep with my brothers and sisters. But last night everyone said I could sleep on your log and I did and I missed you lots and lots.

“I miss you, too, Robin,” Kermit whispered to the paper, and he pressed his unopened letters against his heart. He missed all of them, and now he even missed his old log. He had never thought to miss his log.

I think I miss you more here in the swamp, because you always get it when I’m homesick for both our homes. I was REALLY REALLY glad to come here, and now I really want to leave. I don’t want to tell anyone because they won’t get it like you do. I miss you.

I’m really excited for when we leave because we are going to New York! I’m doing a real interview! I will be on The Today Show and I get to talk to Matt Lower Lauer. Aunt Piggy and Fozzie said to tell you not to worry because they will be with me the hole whole time. But I really want to do it because the whole country will see me and I want them all to see because lots of people are talking about me.

It started because there were mean people who were angry about the war and they were yelling by my school. (Dad says they might not be mean. But I think he thinks they are mean.) Everyone says not to tell you I was scared because it will make you upset. But I think you shouldn’t be upset because I’m not scared now.

At that, Kermit forgot about the blazing sun beating down on him. He felt cold—very, very cold. But he kept reading.

I want to tell everyone that I’m not scared now, because I won’t let them scare me. And I think they scare other kids who have parents fighting. I don’t want them to scare anyone anymore. And I think if I tell them that, maybe they will listen, because they are talking about me and they usually listen to you.

Everyone says that I’m being brave. I don’t feel brave, Uncle Kermit. I feel excited for my INTERVIEW! And I feel mad at the mean people. And I feel really proud of you. And I feel proud of Uncle Greg, but more proud of you.

Am I brave? I think you are. I wish you could be there for my big INTERVIEW! I hope you will be proud of me. I will try really hard to do a good job so you will be proud. Aunt Piggy and Fozzie say you will be proud, and Rowlf and Scooter say I will do really good.

I MISS YOU! I LOVE YOU!

Love,
Robin

Kermit didn’t notice the tears in his eyes until the letter started to blur in front of him, and he didn’t realize that he was back among his unit again until Geraldson and Larsen were both next to him, each with a hand on his back, asking if he was alright.

He laughed. “Great,” he said, wiping his eyes. “I’m great.”

None of them looked convinced—and they were all looking at him, all of them worried, and the amazing thing was that none of them gave him a hard time for being a big softie and crying over a letter from home. He laughed again, and Geraldson and Larsen both visibly relaxed.

“Robin…” He tried to explain, but the words wouldn’t come quite right. He just grinned and held the letter up while a few more tears trickled down his cheeks without his notice. “Robin. My Robin,” he said. “Interview… He… He wants to know if I’m proud of him.” He wiped his eyes. “I could burst, I’m that proud.”

“You’re always that proud,” Geraldson said with a smirk, but there were some relieved sighs around them.

“Well yeah, but this is different! He’s… Oh, sheesh.” He sat down and hugged his letters to his chest. “There’s… Some stuff lately… I guess… some protesters…” And then he took another look at the faces around him. “You guys already know, don’t you?” he said softly.

Many of them looked away. Geraldson held his breath—and, behind the camera, so did Holt. But Larsen just said, “Yeah, we know. He’s had a rough time of it lately.”

Kermit nodded. “He’s gonna do an interview about it. He wants to do an interview,” he said eagerly. Then he wistfully added, “And he wants to know if that makes him brave.”

“Nah. Just makes him like his uncle,” Larsen said, and they laughed. “Now come on, Frog. Are you gonna read the rest of your mail? I’ve got five letters from my siblings. How many did you get from yours? You’ve got that great big one in back there…”

“Alright, alright…” Kermit flipped through his unopened mail while the others around him started to return their attention to their own letters. At the bottom of his stack was a big manila envelope, which did seem unusual. He gave it a perplexed look, and then he looked at the return address and had to stare at it for a moment before he could quite comprehend. “Oh,” he said, and then, “Oh!” and he grinned. “Well, Larsen, if you’re worried about this envelope… It’s not gonna change how many letters I got from my siblings.”

“No? How come?” Larsen asked skeptically.

“Because none of my siblings live on Sesame Street!” Kermit said cheerfully. He opened the envelope and dumped the crayon-covered contents into his lap.

All eyes were on him again, and mouths slowly opened. Emerson edged forward. “Sesame Street?” he reverently breathed. “They’re still…”

“…Real?” Casper finished. They were all moving in now, sitting close to Kermit and staring in awe with their own mail half-forgotten in their hands. Holt sat right down with them and zoomed in on Kermit without quite realizing he did so, and it took a moment before he remembered to keep some of the other Marines in the shot as well.

“Still real,” Pine murmured, rubbing his fingers against one of his letters. “My Eva has an Elmo bib.”

Larsen nodded. “My brother likes to watch them.”

They watched as Kermit carefully leafed through these papers, straining for glimpses of lopsided lettering and crayon drawings that had all been made with love, and a few neatly handwritten notes from the adults as well.

“It’s hard to believe,” Cogswell murmured. “Hard to believe… with all we’ve got here, every day, and back home there’s still… There’s something that’s so…”

“Safe,” Kermit said, looking up for the first time since he’d opened the envelope. “They’re safe. Really, truly… Always.”

Plank hugged his legs and settled his cheek against his knees, his whole face clouded and dark. “Safe,” he repeated, and the word sounded foreign to all of them.

Casper put a hand on Plank’s shoulder. “We’re not used to safe,” he said.

“No. Not here,” Larsen quietly agreed.

“Not even at home, really, anymore,” Geraldson said. “But… But there it’s… It’s still safe?”

“It’s still safe,” Kermit nodded. “And still sunny. It’s incredible, isn’t it?”

“Incredible,” Cogswell whispered, and he shook his head. “I can’t believe it…”

Kermit grinned at him. “Well, I guess you’ll have to add it to the list of places you want to see when you get home, huh?”

Cogswell gaped and his eyes went wide with wonder at the idea that, not only did a place like Sesame Street still exist, but he could go there someday. Then he started to smile and whispered, “Can you tell me how to get there?”

“Sure!” Kermit chuckled. “But only if you say please.”

They laughed. “Please and thank you!” Pine said.

“Yes—thank you,” Kermit said, looking straight into the camera, and he nodded faintly before he looked at his fellow Marines again. “You guys wanna hear what they wrote?”

They burst with loud, eager agreement, all pressing even a little bit closer, and then Emerson laughed. “We just turned into kids ourselves, didn’t we?” he groaned.

“Nothing wrong with that!” Casper said defensively. “Read ‘em, Frog, read ‘em!”

“Please,” Cogswell prompted.

Kermit chuckled. “Well, Grover wrote, HEEEY FROGGY BABYYYYYYYY!”

They laughed, and Geraldson gave Kermit a hard slap on the back—so he wouldn’t feel homesick, of course.

They admired all of the drawings and read through all of the notes—except for the ones from the adults, which Kermit set aside to read to himself later. But for a little while, the horrors of the war disappeared, and the men had a taste of innocence. They all helped to unfold the banner-sized note from Snuffleupagus, which Kermit assured them was “small” and which they agreed to hang on the wall of the mess tent. And when the note from The Count ended with, of course, a count of how many words were in the note, they all stared up in disbelief as thunder and lightning cracked across the clear blue sky.

“Alright, last one,” Kermit announced as he reached the bottom of the stack. He skimmed the note and smirked. “Geraldson! Have you been talking to Elmo?”

Geraldson laughed. “What?”

“Dear Green Frog,” Kermit read. “Elmo heard that Green Frog is in a place that is not very safe. Elmo thinks Green Frog should always wear a helmet so Green Frog will be safe.”

And all of them laughed again. “Green Frog should wear a helmet!” Geraldson said.

“Green Frog does wear a helmet!” Kermit said.

“You took it off in combat!”

“Only once! One time, and it saved your neck!”

“It cost your shoulder!”

“So?”

“You guys fight like a married couple!” Pine groaned. “What else did Elmo say, Frog?”

“Hm? Oh.” Kermit cleared his throat. “Elmo hopes Green Frog can come and play soon. Elmo loves you! Love, Elmo.”

“Elmo writes pretty good for a three year old,” Cogswell said.

“Three and a half,” Kermit said. “And he lives on Sesame Street. And… he had help.” He let a grateful hand rest on the few unread notes.

He read those silently to himself after dinner. Bob, Susan and Gordon, Maria and Luis… They had all written. Their notes included phrases like We love you and We miss you and We hope you’re alright and We believe in you.

They believed in him. He wondered if they knew how much that meant.

He also wondered if they knew how much it could cost. He suspected that they did… but he wondered if he really knew. There had been protesters by Robin’s school. Between what Major D had said, what was written in his other letters, and what he was slowly drawing out of the others in his unit, Kermit was starting to piece together a grim picture of the home front and what it held for anyone who dared to show support for the war.

Sesame Street had managed to stay safe from all of that. For everyone’s sake, they needed to stay safe. And for Kermit’s own selfish reasons, for his own peace of mind, he needed to know that they were safe. So when they sent off that week’s footage, Kermit attached a note for the editor insisting on something he had already discussed with his unit: that the broadcast show not include any mention of the fact that he had received a package from Sesame Street.

And there was another equally urgent thing. As soon as possible, Kermit needed to send a very long letter to his little nephew Robin, but “as soon as possible” wouldn’t be quite soon enough for his liking. For now, he sent a quick e-mail to all of the Muppets, so that whoever saw it first could relay the message.

Dear Everyone,

Please give my love to Robin. Tell him I’m proud of him. Tell him I wish I could be there in person with him for his interview. Tell him I’ll try to watch it online. Tell him yes, I think he’s brave. And tell him thank you.

Yours,

KTF