That's what I'm here for
An air of suppressed excitement filled the set. Although everyone but Piggy—and of course Kermit and the crew—had the morning off, the place seemed crowded, and infused with an almost festive air. The ladies from Charlie’s Water Ballet had arrived to considerable fanfare that morning, and Kermit was willing to wager that every single single male associated with the film was on hand to catch a glimpse of the bathing beauties. Scooter, who was usually hovering helpfully at Kermit’s elbow, seemed more than a little distracted. If Kermit hadn’t been so miserably nervous himself, he would have teased Scooter a little.
“Ten minutes,” Scoter said, “and Miss Piggy says may she see the director in her dressing room, please.”
Kermit looked a question at Scooter, but he was already moving off. Kermit hopped down from his directro’s chair and made his way to the room that had been set aside fro Piggy. He knocked once and, hearing no response, opened the door tentatively to find Piggy in an almost hysterical state, wringing her hands and placing nervously back and forth.
“Hey Piggy,” Kermit said quietly, and she started violently and gave him such a pitiable look of agitation that he stepped inside and shut the door firmly to keep any gawkers at bay.
“I must have been crazy,” she wailed. “I don’t know why I let you talk me into this. I don’t know what I was thinking! I cannot do this—I, I can’t! I am going to make a fool of myself and ruin the whole movie and—“
“Piggy,” Kermit said soothingly. “Calm down—it’s okay. You’re going to be fine. You’re going to do fine. You’re just—“
“I can’t!” she insisted stubbornly. “I’ve forgotten everything you taught me.” She covered her face in her hands, almost panting in her distress. “It’s all gone—everything’s gone.”
Guided more by instinct than reason, Kermit came up behind her and put his arms around her waist. Piggy jumped in surprise at the unexpected contact, but Kermit held her tight.
“It’s not gone,” Kermit said firmly. Very briefly, he touched her forehead, put his hand lightly over her heart. “It’s here, and here. And I’m here.” He tightened his arms around her, pulling her back against him until her center of gravity shifted and she leaned against him. “Trust me,” he murmured.
“I’m, I’m scared Kermit. What if I can’t—“
“Shh. Don’t be scared. I’m right here. Close your eyes Piggy. That’s right—keep them closed. Now take a deep breath. Hold it—that’s right. Now let it go and take another one. Good. That’s great.” He felt her relax a little as the breath shuddered out of her, and she stilled a little in his arms. His voice in her ear, his warm breath on her neck, the comfort of his embrace were calming her little by little. “Now,” Kermit continued, “just think about the night you learned to float. Remember?”
“I—yes,” Piggy whispered, eyes closed obediently. “I remember.”
“Just lean on me, Piggy,” Kermit murmured. “Just relax and remember what it felt like to lay back on the water, to float. Do you remember?”
“Yes.”
“Remember all the stars that night? Remember how peaceful and calm it was?”
“Yes.”
“The water was warm. Remember how safe the water felt, holding you?”
“Yes.”
He fell silent for a moment, letting her remember.
“Now, remember the night you nailed the high dive?”
“No, I—“
“Try—try to remember.”
“I, okay—yes. Yes, I remember. It was, it was scary but—“
“But you didn’t fall.”
“No. I didn’t.”
“You did wonderful. You were amazing.”
“No,” Piggy said, but her voice was wistful.
“Yes,” Kermit maintained firmly. “And you’re going to be wonderful and amazing today.”
Kermit fell silent just holding her in the quiet, until Piggy took one last, shaky breath and opened her eyes. She was calmer now—he could feel it in the relaxed set of her shoulders, could feel that the swiftly beating pulse in her neck had slowed.
“Piggy?”
“Yes—I’m okay now.” She sounded calm, composed.
Kermit held her for a few beats longer, then set her back on her feet. Piggy turned, intending to thank him, but Kermit had not stepped back yet. She turned right into his arms. Blushing, they tried to disentangle their limbs, but turned in the same direction once, twice—a third time, laughing nervously. They held on to each other, trying to regain their balance as they bodies bumped together. Piggy had been looking down, flustered, but she looked up in surprise, bringing their faces close together.
She would have taken a step back, but now she was entangled in the sling Kermit still wore around his neck for when his arm grew tired or achy. “Sorry,” she murmured. “Sorry.”
Kermit reached out and caught her arm to steady them. “No,” he said softly, looking into her eyes. “Don’t be sorry.” There was such a short distance between them, it was no trouble for Kermit to close the gap, leaning forward and kissing Piggy’s mouth. It was a short kiss, but it shook them both a little, and Kermit pulled back and looked at her. “For luck,” he said solemnly. “Just for luck.”
‘Oh,” Piggy said, cheeks pink. “Yes—for luck.” They continued to stare at each other. “Maybe we should do that one more time,” she whispered. “You know, just to be sure the luck holds.”
What the hey, Kermit thought, casting caution to the wind. He stepped forward boldly, swept Piggy to him, and kissed her until everything happening outside their little circle of two faded away. His left arm, still stiff from the fall, held her close. His other hand slipped beneath her golden curls to cup her neck so he could kiss her trembling mouth. After a moment of stunned surprise, Piggy lifted her arms to his neck and kissed him back with almost desperate abandon, drowning in his embrace. Gradually, reality intruded, and they pulled away self-consciously.
“For luck,” Kermit repeated, his mind pleasantly fogged.
“Yes,” Piggy said, laughing nervously as she withdrew. “For luck.”
“Did that—did that help?” Kermit asked, trying to regain his composure.
“What? Oh—yes, yes—I feel much calmer now.” Her eyes were down, her cheeks flaming pink. Kermit looked down to catch her eye—made her look at him—then smiled.
“Cause we could do that again if—“
Piggy shot him a look of pure exasperation, but she couldn’t hold it. She began to smile. “Get out,” she growled, but her eyes were warm. She pushed him toward the door.
“Cause hey—the director is here for you—“
“Out!"
“That’s what I’m here for—“
“Go!”
Kermit stopped in the doorway, smiling back at her.
“You’re going to do great, Piggy. I know it.”
She pushed him into the hall and shut the door firmly behind him. Her head was spinning, her heart was thumping loudly against her ribcage, but she was smiling and she felt calm, she felt exhilarated, she felt—she felt amazing. She took a deep breath and went to reapply her lipstick before the shoot.
“Oh, good—there you are, Kermit,” Scooter said, relief in his voice. “Looks like everything’s ready to begin.” He gave Kermit a thoughtful look.
“Everything okay with Miss Piggy? They’re ready any time she’s ready.”
“What? Oh—yes. Miss Piggy is fine—we were just, um, going over some last-minute discussion about the scene.”
“Uh huh,” Scooter said, and something in his voice made Kermit stop and look at him guiltily.
“Scooter?”
Silently, Scooter handed him a clean handkerchief.
“What’s this for, Scooter?”
“Um, Boss—you’re wearing lipstick.”
“Oh.” They looked at each other for a moment, Kermit wiping self-consciously at his mouth.
“Um, thanks.”
Scooter had the good grace not to grin, but his eyes were merry. “Sure thing,” he said. “That’s what I’m here for.”
It was a grueling shoot, but the scene went wonderfully. The ladies from Charlie’s were true professionals and, although Piggy was nervous about hitting her marks, they made it easy for her. So used were they to moving in synchronization that accommodating Piggy was easy for them. Two hours into filming, Kermit could tell that Piggy was enjoying herself, not to mention the murmurs of appreciation from the spectator crowd. They wanted to try the underwater sequence one more time to be sure they had everything they needed, and then they would break for lunch. The stylists would mob Piggy, drying and styling her hair, while she tried to eat lunch, and then it would be time for the high dive.
Fozzie sidled up alongside Kermit while they were waiting for the camera crew to reload.
“How’s it going, Kermit?” Fozzie whispered. Even when the filming light wasn’t on, Fozzie tended to whisper on stage.
“I think it’s going great,” Kermit said, speaking normally. “How’s it look from the sidelines?”
“Super.” Fozzie took off his hat and played with it, a sure sign something was up. “Um, Kermit?”
“Yes, Fozzie.”
“Are you—are you sure you’ve been teaching Piggy to swim?”
“What? Um, yes Fozzie. Why?”
“Cause she is doing really well.”
“What—I’m a bad teacher?” Kermit said irritably.
“No—no, it’s just that….” He trailed off uncomfortably. “Nothing.” He began to slump away.
Kermit stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Fozzie—I wouldn’t lie to you. Piggy’s just a really quick study.”
“Frog scout’s honor?”
“Frog scout’s honor.”
Fozzie relaxed, smiling at Kermit, and Kermit smiled back. “We’ve still got to get through the high dive,” Kermit reminded him. Fozzie looked up, up, up to the high ceiling towering above them.
“Oh, wow,” he said softly. “I hope you’re a really good teacher.”
Yeah, Kermit thought nervously. Me, too.
Thank heaven for small graces, Piggy thought with relief. Unbeknownst to her, the special effects crew had nixed the idea of the sparking headdress over her own hair and attached it instead to a wig. Piggy was able to eat her lunch in peace while they put her own hair up in a wig cap. Only when she took of her terry robe and readied herself for the shoot did they put the crown on her head. Once she was standing on the fountain platform, the press of a button would light the thing and she would be on her way. Oh, please, she thought desperately, let this be perfect on the first shot.
Kermit, watching from the elevated director’s chair, gulped nervously. Oh, please, he thought anxiously, let this be perfect on the first shot. The first shot didn’t do it, but the second one did. Piggy emerged triumphantly out of the deep—water streaming off her—to the applause and cheers of everyone there. Wardrobe came and took the headdress away, wrapping her firmly in a warm towel while someone else fetched her robe and sandals. It was over, it was done, it was in the can. Piggy felt weak-kneed with relief.
Kermit had to elbow his way into the throng surrounding her to offer his congratulations, but it was well worth the effort. Piggy leaned forward and kissed him—chastely—on the cheek but her eyes were bright, thanking him for everything.
“And to think,” Fozzie voice carried clearly over the lull in conversation. “That Piggy just leaned how to swim.”
There was a moment’s stunned silence. Fozzie, realizing what he’d done, clapped his hat over his mouth. Kermit and Piggy stared at each other.
“Um, what Fozzie means—“ Kermit began, looking to Piggy for confirmation.
“What Fozzie means is that Moi just learned how to swim,” Piggy said firmly. It was over, her face said plainly. No need to hide it now. “Didn’t look like it,” Dr. Teeth said. “You nailed that routine pretty sweet, pork stuff.”
“Like, for sure,” Janice chimed in.
Piggy smiled graciously, holding court. “Thank you,” she said sweetly. “It was a lot of hard work, but I couldn’t have done it without my coach, Kermit the Frog.”
The crowd suddenly turned to him, patting him on the back, pumping his good hand. In the enthusiasm, they were carried from each other. Through the crowds and over the heads of well-wishers, Kermit looked over at Piggy and smiled.
“You did it,” he mouthed.
She shook her head and accepted a hug from one of Charlie’s girls. “No,” she mouthed back. “We did it.”
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