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Ruahnna
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Chapter 21: Surprises
Scooter ran into Kermit outside the sound booth.
“Hey Scooter—I’m just going to get Robin. Who’s up now?”
“Johnny’s on stage for Christmas All over the World’ with the Amy Lu and Gloria Jean and Sally Ann and Laura May.” He looked at Kermit. “How do you think this is going to fly?”
Kermit shrugged, complacent with the inevitable. “Ought to be okay, I think. Howard’s still grumbling but the girls know the routine and Johnny ought to be able to sell it okay as long as he doesn’t just stop in the middle of the song.” He smiled. “Sal’s making cue cards, I hear.”
“Johnny can read?” said Scooter wickedly, and they both laughed before opening the door of the sound booth.
Robin bounded up at the sight of his uncle. “Hi Uncle Kermit—this has been great! Dr. Teeth is showing me what all the buttons do!”
Kermit smiled and put a fond hand on Robin’s head. “Thanks so much, Dr. Teeth. I want to keep Robin close because of the, um….” Robin looked at him inquisitively, aquiver with curiosity. The men exchanged a look, and Kermit trailed off and changed topics.
“Because I promised my brother I’d look out for him.”
“No, no—it was my pleasure. Robin is a seriously cool little dude,” said Dr. Teeth. "He’s learning how to run the sound system.”
Kermit smiled. “Yeah, heh, heh, right. Thanks again, Doc. Piggy and I sure appreciate—“
Dr. Teeth put a hand on Kermit’s arm. “No, seriously, my main frog. Your nephew can almost run the sound board by his lonesome.”
Kermit stared. “Are you, are you serious?”
“As the IRS. Check it out.” He turned to Robin, who looked up inquisitively. If he’d had whiskers, they’d have been quivering. “Hey there, my little green man. Bring up the sound on the main mike, won’t you? And fade in with the peripheral mikes to we’ve got the full chorus range, won’t you? Now—can you bring up the main mike again and give it some reverb. That’s right—not too much.” For the next five minutes, Kermit and Scooter watched, thunderstruck, as Robin followed every direction perfectly.
“Kid’s got a good ear, too,” Dr. Teeth said. “He doesn’t have perfect pitch, which is good, cuz it makes it hard to sing in a group, but he’s got an excellent ear. Um, so to speak,” he added, remembering that frog’s aural organs weren’t actually ears.
“That’s fantastic,” Kermit said. He looked at Robin. “Next thing you know, you’ll be running the sound board.”
“Could I really run the sound?” Robin asked excitedly. “For the show?”
“Well,” Kermit hedged. “Not tonight, of course. Maybe some other time.” Robin looked disappointed, but brightened visibly at a new thought.
“Maybe later in the week?” he asked.
“How about maybe before this show closes, hm? How about that?” What would it hurt? Kermit thought. Robin could sit in the booth part of one performance, push the occasional button, throw the occasional lever. It would be a good experience for the little guy.
“Uncle Kermit!” Robin demanded. “Were you paying attention to me?”
“What? Oh no Robin—sorry, I wasn’t. I was thinking.”
“About the confetti?”
Kermit sucked in his breath. Kid didn’t miss much. “Why would I be thinking about the confetti?” he asked carefully.
Robin looked up at him uncertainly. “Aunt Piggy was upset.”
Kermit put his arm around Robin’s shoulders. “Well, Aunt Piggy is just fine now. Why don’t we go find her and have a little snack, hm? Mabel had some cookies in the kitchen a little while ago.”
“Mabel makes good cookies,” Robin said happily. “Just like Aunt Piggy.”
“Um, yeah,” Kermit said. “Let’s go get one, now.”
Floyd rounded the corner and stopped abruptly. Janice stood at the end of the corridor, leaning casually against the wall, but the bass player was positive he’d seen Clifford disappear around the far corner as soon as he’d rounded the curve
“Hey, Babe,” Floyd said. “Waiting for someone?”
“Just you, Honey. Doc says the band’s getting together in—“ She consulted her watch. “Um, ten minutes.”
“Yeah—I came to tell you.”
Janice smiled, reaching for Floyd’s hand and holding it between her own. “Let’s go together,” she said warmly, leaning against him. “This is going to be such a rockin’ show.”
Floyd put his arm around Janice and felt himself visibly relax.
“I’m an idiot,” he thought grimly. “Getting all worked up for nothing.” He pressed a kiss into Janice’s shining hair. “Janice is still my woman. I got nothin’ to worry about.” Together, they walked toward the stage.
When Kermit and Robin found Piggy, they both had cinnamon on their lips from one of Mabel’s snickerdoodles. Piggy kissed Robin on the cheek and Kermit on the mouth, tasting cinnamon on both of them. When they got to the stage, Thoreau was waiting for them. He thrust a box at them unceremoniously. “Open it,” he demanded.
Kermit unwrapped the tissue paper and heard Piggy let out a little gasp of surprise. Inside the box, protected like an egg in a carton, was an absolutely magnificent black leather jacket. Kermit reached for it tentatively and his hand closed over soft, well-tooled leather as supple as Lydia the tattooed lady. The zippers and studs looked to be of chrome, and the lining had the insubstantial feel of Indian silk.
“Wow,” Kermit said. “This is, this is beautiful, Thoreau. You must have gone to a lot of trouble to get this.”
Thoreau waved the air languidly with one long-fingered hand, but Piggy knew that his air of elaborate casualness meant he had maneuvered his butt off to pull this little rabbit out of a hat. She sent him a kissy-kissy face behind Kermit’s head and he rolled his eyes and smirked like a schoolboy at his first dance.
“Try it on. It supposed to fit, and if it doesn’t, by thunderation I’m going to…well. Well, well, well. I must say that’s very, very nice. Turn for me.”
Mortifyingly embarrassed to be the center of attention, Kermit turned. By the time he had completed his twirl, half the cast had gathered around.
“Hey—nice jacket,” said Rizzo around a mouthful of apple-raisin bread. “That your costume for ‘One Fine Day,’ huh?”
“Ultimate threads,” Doctor Teeth said approvingly. “A new look for the frogman.”
“Hey, Uncle Kermit—you look like Fonzie,” Robin piped up. Somewhere in the world, “Happy Days” was still in reruns every day after school.
“Does it come with a cape?”
“Oh, like, that is so, like, retro and everything.”
“Kermit, now you’re the dude with the ‘tude,” Clifford said approvingly.
With difficulty, Pepe pushed through the crowd, his arms laden with yards of cable. When he caught sight of Kermit, he stopped dead in his tracks, dropped everything in his arms and went white-eyed on the floor. It took Janice and Camilla and Gloria Jean several minutes to revive him. “His hokay,” he said at last. “Hi am fine, si.” He stood up, walked over to Kermit and threw all four arms around the hand-stitched cuff in a paroxysm of longing. Kermit tried ineffectually to wrest his arm free.
“So, so you guys like it?” he said, still a little embarrassed by all the attention. He shook his arm to detach Pepe, but was unsuccessful.
“Like it?” Piggy growled. “I love it, Mon capitan.”
Kermit blushed, enjoying the look of proprietary pride in Piggy’s eyes.
“Well, okay then,” he said at last. “Let give this thing a test run.” He started for the stage, dragging Pepe behind him. “Um—a little help here, guys?” he said. Sal and Johnny stepped forward to carry a whimpering Pepe away.
“Only two arms,” Pepe was muttering dazedly. “So beautiful, but only two arms.”
“Oooh, that’s better,” Howard said thoughtfully, standing in the back of the auditorium and watching the run-through. “Much, much better.”
“The letterman’s jacket wasn’t a bad idea,” conceded Thoreau, “but it just wasn’t quite the right look. Or fit. Or color.” He looked at Howard in mock surprise. “Oh my—did I just say that out loud.”
“You were more tactful than I was. Piggy made me wear it.”
“No!”
“Yes.” Howard sighed. “The things I do for my art.”
Thoreau nodded sympathetically. “Tell me about it.” He turned to Howard suddenly. “How’s the new girl—the one that came in with, what’s his name? Skipper?”
“Scooter.” Howard shrugged generously. “Her name's Sara. She’s not bad. A quick study. Scared out of her wits.”
“But okay?”
“Yeah—she did fine. This wouldn’t fly if we were going for a chorus line effect, but each muse looks differently, moves differently, dances differently. And it works because each of the women is dressed in the style that makes her look the best. By the by—nice job with Camilla.”
“The chicken? Oh, thanks. Wasn’t too bad, was it? She’s pretty—very nice legs. I kindof like that little shrug, but the hat really made it.”
“Brought out the blue in her eyes.”
Thoreau looked very pleased. “That’s why I picked that shade!” He turned back to the stage, watching Piggy sashay across the stage with her ponytail bouncing. “You know, I’ve never done a show before. This has been, I don’t know, sort of fun.”
“Yeah,” said Howard, smiling to himself. “There are worse jobs and I—” He snapped to attention suddenly. “Rizzo!” he bellowed. “What is the matter with you? We are making left-hand turns thank-you-very-much!”
Rizzo looked embarrassed and got back in rhythm with the other guys. He nailed the next turn and Howard subsided. “What was I saying?”
“Worse jobs?”
“Yeah. Sure, the pay is lousy, but when push comes to shove—and believe me it does sometimes—we all pull together. It’s nice—we’re like a family.”
Thoreau was thoughtful. “That’s what Piggy says.”
“Well,” Howard said, his mouth twitching into a smile. “Wardrobe notwithstanding, I make it a habit never to argue with Piggy if I can help it.”
Scooter ran into Kermit outside the sound booth.
“Hey Scooter—I’m just going to get Robin. Who’s up now?”
“Johnny’s on stage for Christmas All over the World’ with the Amy Lu and Gloria Jean and Sally Ann and Laura May.” He looked at Kermit. “How do you think this is going to fly?”
Kermit shrugged, complacent with the inevitable. “Ought to be okay, I think. Howard’s still grumbling but the girls know the routine and Johnny ought to be able to sell it okay as long as he doesn’t just stop in the middle of the song.” He smiled. “Sal’s making cue cards, I hear.”
“Johnny can read?” said Scooter wickedly, and they both laughed before opening the door of the sound booth.
Robin bounded up at the sight of his uncle. “Hi Uncle Kermit—this has been great! Dr. Teeth is showing me what all the buttons do!”
Kermit smiled and put a fond hand on Robin’s head. “Thanks so much, Dr. Teeth. I want to keep Robin close because of the, um….” Robin looked at him inquisitively, aquiver with curiosity. The men exchanged a look, and Kermit trailed off and changed topics.
“Because I promised my brother I’d look out for him.”
“No, no—it was my pleasure. Robin is a seriously cool little dude,” said Dr. Teeth. "He’s learning how to run the sound system.”
Kermit smiled. “Yeah, heh, heh, right. Thanks again, Doc. Piggy and I sure appreciate—“
Dr. Teeth put a hand on Kermit’s arm. “No, seriously, my main frog. Your nephew can almost run the sound board by his lonesome.”
Kermit stared. “Are you, are you serious?”
“As the IRS. Check it out.” He turned to Robin, who looked up inquisitively. If he’d had whiskers, they’d have been quivering. “Hey there, my little green man. Bring up the sound on the main mike, won’t you? And fade in with the peripheral mikes to we’ve got the full chorus range, won’t you? Now—can you bring up the main mike again and give it some reverb. That’s right—not too much.” For the next five minutes, Kermit and Scooter watched, thunderstruck, as Robin followed every direction perfectly.
“Kid’s got a good ear, too,” Dr. Teeth said. “He doesn’t have perfect pitch, which is good, cuz it makes it hard to sing in a group, but he’s got an excellent ear. Um, so to speak,” he added, remembering that frog’s aural organs weren’t actually ears.
“That’s fantastic,” Kermit said. He looked at Robin. “Next thing you know, you’ll be running the sound board.”
“Could I really run the sound?” Robin asked excitedly. “For the show?”
“Well,” Kermit hedged. “Not tonight, of course. Maybe some other time.” Robin looked disappointed, but brightened visibly at a new thought.
“Maybe later in the week?” he asked.
“How about maybe before this show closes, hm? How about that?” What would it hurt? Kermit thought. Robin could sit in the booth part of one performance, push the occasional button, throw the occasional lever. It would be a good experience for the little guy.
“Uncle Kermit!” Robin demanded. “Were you paying attention to me?”
“What? Oh no Robin—sorry, I wasn’t. I was thinking.”
“About the confetti?”
Kermit sucked in his breath. Kid didn’t miss much. “Why would I be thinking about the confetti?” he asked carefully.
Robin looked up at him uncertainly. “Aunt Piggy was upset.”
Kermit put his arm around Robin’s shoulders. “Well, Aunt Piggy is just fine now. Why don’t we go find her and have a little snack, hm? Mabel had some cookies in the kitchen a little while ago.”
“Mabel makes good cookies,” Robin said happily. “Just like Aunt Piggy.”
“Um, yeah,” Kermit said. “Let’s go get one, now.”
Floyd rounded the corner and stopped abruptly. Janice stood at the end of the corridor, leaning casually against the wall, but the bass player was positive he’d seen Clifford disappear around the far corner as soon as he’d rounded the curve
“Hey, Babe,” Floyd said. “Waiting for someone?”
“Just you, Honey. Doc says the band’s getting together in—“ She consulted her watch. “Um, ten minutes.”
“Yeah—I came to tell you.”
Janice smiled, reaching for Floyd’s hand and holding it between her own. “Let’s go together,” she said warmly, leaning against him. “This is going to be such a rockin’ show.”
Floyd put his arm around Janice and felt himself visibly relax.
“I’m an idiot,” he thought grimly. “Getting all worked up for nothing.” He pressed a kiss into Janice’s shining hair. “Janice is still my woman. I got nothin’ to worry about.” Together, they walked toward the stage.
When Kermit and Robin found Piggy, they both had cinnamon on their lips from one of Mabel’s snickerdoodles. Piggy kissed Robin on the cheek and Kermit on the mouth, tasting cinnamon on both of them. When they got to the stage, Thoreau was waiting for them. He thrust a box at them unceremoniously. “Open it,” he demanded.
Kermit unwrapped the tissue paper and heard Piggy let out a little gasp of surprise. Inside the box, protected like an egg in a carton, was an absolutely magnificent black leather jacket. Kermit reached for it tentatively and his hand closed over soft, well-tooled leather as supple as Lydia the tattooed lady. The zippers and studs looked to be of chrome, and the lining had the insubstantial feel of Indian silk.
“Wow,” Kermit said. “This is, this is beautiful, Thoreau. You must have gone to a lot of trouble to get this.”
Thoreau waved the air languidly with one long-fingered hand, but Piggy knew that his air of elaborate casualness meant he had maneuvered his butt off to pull this little rabbit out of a hat. She sent him a kissy-kissy face behind Kermit’s head and he rolled his eyes and smirked like a schoolboy at his first dance.
“Try it on. It supposed to fit, and if it doesn’t, by thunderation I’m going to…well. Well, well, well. I must say that’s very, very nice. Turn for me.”
Mortifyingly embarrassed to be the center of attention, Kermit turned. By the time he had completed his twirl, half the cast had gathered around.
“Hey—nice jacket,” said Rizzo around a mouthful of apple-raisin bread. “That your costume for ‘One Fine Day,’ huh?”
“Ultimate threads,” Doctor Teeth said approvingly. “A new look for the frogman.”
“Hey, Uncle Kermit—you look like Fonzie,” Robin piped up. Somewhere in the world, “Happy Days” was still in reruns every day after school.
“Does it come with a cape?”
“Oh, like, that is so, like, retro and everything.”
“Kermit, now you’re the dude with the ‘tude,” Clifford said approvingly.
With difficulty, Pepe pushed through the crowd, his arms laden with yards of cable. When he caught sight of Kermit, he stopped dead in his tracks, dropped everything in his arms and went white-eyed on the floor. It took Janice and Camilla and Gloria Jean several minutes to revive him. “His hokay,” he said at last. “Hi am fine, si.” He stood up, walked over to Kermit and threw all four arms around the hand-stitched cuff in a paroxysm of longing. Kermit tried ineffectually to wrest his arm free.
“So, so you guys like it?” he said, still a little embarrassed by all the attention. He shook his arm to detach Pepe, but was unsuccessful.
“Like it?” Piggy growled. “I love it, Mon capitan.”
Kermit blushed, enjoying the look of proprietary pride in Piggy’s eyes.
“Well, okay then,” he said at last. “Let give this thing a test run.” He started for the stage, dragging Pepe behind him. “Um—a little help here, guys?” he said. Sal and Johnny stepped forward to carry a whimpering Pepe away.
“Only two arms,” Pepe was muttering dazedly. “So beautiful, but only two arms.”
“Oooh, that’s better,” Howard said thoughtfully, standing in the back of the auditorium and watching the run-through. “Much, much better.”
“The letterman’s jacket wasn’t a bad idea,” conceded Thoreau, “but it just wasn’t quite the right look. Or fit. Or color.” He looked at Howard in mock surprise. “Oh my—did I just say that out loud.”
“You were more tactful than I was. Piggy made me wear it.”
“No!”
“Yes.” Howard sighed. “The things I do for my art.”
Thoreau nodded sympathetically. “Tell me about it.” He turned to Howard suddenly. “How’s the new girl—the one that came in with, what’s his name? Skipper?”
“Scooter.” Howard shrugged generously. “Her name's Sara. She’s not bad. A quick study. Scared out of her wits.”
“But okay?”
“Yeah—she did fine. This wouldn’t fly if we were going for a chorus line effect, but each muse looks differently, moves differently, dances differently. And it works because each of the women is dressed in the style that makes her look the best. By the by—nice job with Camilla.”
“The chicken? Oh, thanks. Wasn’t too bad, was it? She’s pretty—very nice legs. I kindof like that little shrug, but the hat really made it.”
“Brought out the blue in her eyes.”
Thoreau looked very pleased. “That’s why I picked that shade!” He turned back to the stage, watching Piggy sashay across the stage with her ponytail bouncing. “You know, I’ve never done a show before. This has been, I don’t know, sort of fun.”
“Yeah,” said Howard, smiling to himself. “There are worse jobs and I—” He snapped to attention suddenly. “Rizzo!” he bellowed. “What is the matter with you? We are making left-hand turns thank-you-very-much!”
Rizzo looked embarrassed and got back in rhythm with the other guys. He nailed the next turn and Howard subsided. “What was I saying?”
“Worse jobs?”
“Yeah. Sure, the pay is lousy, but when push comes to shove—and believe me it does sometimes—we all pull together. It’s nice—we’re like a family.”
Thoreau was thoughtful. “That’s what Piggy says.”
“Well,” Howard said, his mouth twitching into a smile. “Wardrobe notwithstanding, I make it a habit never to argue with Piggy if I can help it.”
