Chapter 16: Scheduling and Conflicts
Fozzie’s scene had gone just fine, despite his earlier qualms about same. Beth had turned in a very sweet and believable performance, and Fozzie had actually felt comfortable enough to joke a little, trying the scene a number of ways. Although one version—with Fozzie shooting up out of unproductive slumber in alarm—was very funny, they had all concluded that the best version was the one in which a surprised and very nervous Fozzie merely subsided with a whispered protest. Cecile had been a great help on the set, soothing the nerves of her nervous daughter and said daughter’s costar with a calm, motherly presence. The scene was in the can and they were all waving Cecile and Edgar out the door with regret by the time the clock said it was time to quit for the day. Before the young man left, Kermit commandeered Scooter for a few moments to go over the schedule.
The week of filming had been full, but there had been several unanticipated changes. He and Piggy had come back a day late from their honeymoon, which only added to the muddle. Luckily, because the number of locations used and the difficulty of predicting weather and the whim of the permit-givers, they had still produced an appropriate amount of film every day, but the schedule had gone all kerflumpy. Some of this would be resolved by filming on Saturday, but he hoped to involve as few people as possible.
“We still have to go back and finish at the park,” said Kermit, frowning a little. “But we don’t need all the original permits because it will mostly be the close-up stuff, right?”
“Right,” said Scooter.
“So—can we do that tomorrow?”
“We can do that tomorrow—you and Piggy and Juliana. Oh, but we do need to check on the buggy ride.” Scooter shuffled some papers. “Uh-oh,” he said, frowning. “Let me make a call.”
Scooter got up to find a phone but Kermit stayed him with a hand, getting up himself and taking the opportunity to stretch his cramped muscles by walking to Piggy’s dressing room. Might as well have a destination if I’m going to walk, he thought, a little defensively, but when he knocked there was no answer. He wandered back to his office to find Scooter sitting with a disgruntled expression on his face.
“What?” he asked.
“Well, apparently the horse-drawn buggy drivers union doesn’t allow them to make any film appearances on the third weekend of any month ending in E.”
Kermit looked at him for a moment. “Say what?” he asked, his face scrunched up to indicate his consternation and disbelief.
“I didn’t believe it either,” said Scooter, “so I called the Union office. Apparently, Section E of the code, sub-section 14—“
“Okay, okay,” said Kermit hastily, anxious to avoid a recital of the entire horse-drawn buggy driver’s code. “Um, where does that leave us—beside buggy-less?” This reminded Kermit that the thin little cellophane-wrapped sandwich he had managed to bolt earlier in the day had not been enough to sustain him, and he tried to push thoughts of food out of his head.
“Oh—we can use the buggy,” said Scooter. “Apparently sub-section 14 goes on to say—“
“Scooter!”
“Huh?” Scooter looked up from his notes, and one look at Kermit’s face told him to cut to the chase. “Um—buggy in, driver out. If we can find another driver, we’re good to go tomorrow.”
Kermit looked thoughtful. “Let me call Jim,” he said. “He might know someone. What about the train station—are we still on with the train station?”
“Oh—oh, yeah! We’re good to go. Tomorrow morning at 7:00 the train will pull out as many times as we want,” Scooter was happy to report. He looked closer at his note. “Um, provided it isn’t more than three,” he muttered, but Kermit was not put off. He did not think they would need more than one shot to capture Piggy’s elegant departure by train while he watched from the station platform.
“So, Piggy and I in the morning at the train station, and me and Piggy and Juliana in the park tomorrow at noon. Will that bring us up to speed?”
“Technically,” said Scooter slowly. “But we still need to reschedule the big opening number. We need everyone for that, pretty much. When do you want to do it?”
Kermit looked at the schedule. Scooter was right—everyone was involved in that scene either backstage or with the audience full of extras. Although they had originally planned to film these scenes at different times, it made sense to combine them.
“When are the extras scheduled to come?”
“Right now, Tuesday.”
Kermit nodded his head. “Tuesday it will be,” he said decisively.
Scooter looked up at him and smiled. “Coming down the home stretch,” he said, smiling. “Then we’re on to post-production.”
Kermit nodded. Time was hurtling past. Just at that moment, Piggy appeared in his office doorway, and time seemed to stop as he gazed at her.
He looks tired and hungry and…wonderful, Piggy thought. She intended to take him home and focus her attention on just him, determined to sooth all signs of tiredness and hunger away. That tenderness was reflected in her gaze, and in her voice.
“Almost done, Kermie?”
The two men looked at each other. Scooter nodded, satisfied.
“Yeah,” said Kermit. “I’m done for today. Let’s go home.”
He could not even remember whose turn it was to host, whose domicile he was heading toward, but it hardly mattered. He took Piggy’s hand and followed her out the door.
The once-elusive train ticket had been procured. As the early morning fog swirled around the station, Piggy had waved and dropped her little square of lilac linen and lace as the train pulled away. So convincing was Piggy’s look of sad farewell that Kermit found his eyes stinging a bit as the scene progressed. By the time they got to the end of the scene, there was a great lump in his throat that made him glad he had no lines to say. What would it be like to have lost his courage at the last? To have never proposed? To see Piggy riding away from him, not knowing when he would see her again? When the scene had been run the requisite number of times, Piggy appeared on the train steps. Kermit walked past all the crew hands ready and willing to hand her down and held his arms open to her. Surprised, Piggy stopped on the steps, not sure what he wanted. With a laugh, Kermit leaned forward, put his arms firmly around her waist and lifted her off the train, swinging her around and down on the platform next to him. Love might give you wings, but it could give you strength in other ways too.
“That was just right,” said Kermit, and Piggy stared at him in surprise as he stretched to kiss her on the cheek.
“What was that for?” Piggy asked, aware of many watching eyes. Kermit caught the look and looked around, sheepish but defiant.
“Um, that was for a great performance,” he said a little too loudly. Now baffled, Piggy just stared at him, but the new security she had found as his lawfully wedded wife had made her more sensitive, perhaps, to the little changes of face that marked his moods. She looked at him and her blue eyes softened in response.
“Thank you, um, Kermit,” she said formally, giving the evil eye to any gawkers. All eyes were hastily averted, and Piggy leaned in and kissed him sweetly on his jaw. “I’m here, Mon Capitan,” she murmured. “And I’m not going anywhere without you.” She stepped away and caught his hand, and Kermit held hers tightly in response. They walked back toward the cameras.
“That was…it was a little disconcerting seeing you ride away like that,” he said at last, opting for honesty.
“There were times that it seemed like a good idea,” she responded, but her eyes said that she, too, was glad this had come to a different conclusion.
“Yeah,” said Kermit. “About that…”
But Piggy merely tugged him after her toward the camera crew. She wanted to be sure that her pert little hat had not been blocking her face. Upon assurance that it had not, she had sighed, happy to be done, and had gone in search of a lime-ade, leaving Kermit to deal with the details until it was time to go to the park.
The horse-and-buggy driver had arrived, and Scooter looked up at the tall, lanky form with obvious pleasure as he swung down from the carriage.
“Mr. Henson!” he cried. “Kermit said he was going to call you, but, but I didn’t know you were going to drive the buggy.”
Jim smiled his big smile, and a glint of mischief shone in his eyes. “Well, I don’t suppose they need a chaperone any more,” he said with a laugh, “but somebody ought to keep an eye on those two.”
Scooter looked around carefully to make sure neither of them were in ear-shot, then nodded emphatically.
“Yeah. It’s been a little weird,” he confessed. “Since they got married, Piggy treats Kermit like he’s the director.”
Only someone who had worked with Piggy and Kermit in a professional capacity would understand why this was so very startling, and Jim just looked at Scooter in surprise.
“Really?” he asked. “You mean—“
“Follows his directions. Takes suggestions without having a fit.”
Jim stared at him, flummoxed. “I suppose you’ve checked for signs of alien mind control,” he said dryly, and Scooter laughed so loud he clapped his hand over his mouth.
“Well, I haven’t,” he admitted. “But I’m sure Gonzo has.” He smiled up at Jim. Jim was tall, and Scooter, not so very. “You look good. How’s the new movie coming?”
Jim’s eyes lit up at once, but he shrugged at the same time. “It’s, um, challenging,” he said at last. “I’ve never tried puppetry on this scale before.”
“Speaking of,” said Scooter. “I saw the film you ran on the nursery scene—we all did.”
“Kermit said you liked it.”
Scooter blushed. “Yeah—all except my belly-button showing,” he muttered, but Jim just laughed and leaned down to muss Scooter’s hair. Scooter caught himself just before he complained, certain that Jim was just trying to get a rise out of him. A venerate practical joker, Jim could find all your buttons and push them with consummate skill, so Scooter merely tolerated the hair-ruffle and considered himself the moral victor. He had little time to savor it, as Piggy and Kermit arrived almost at that instant, and then the filming took precedent over catching up.
Juliana’s scenes were dispensed with first so she could get on her way. Between takes, Piggy was extremely solicitous to the young actress. Once the camera’s rolled, however, Piggy made a very convincing display of extreme displeasure and jealousy. Juliana was very glad she did not have any designs on a particular amphibian. She did note with some amusement that, between takes, Kermit seemed very satisfied with Piggy’s display of proprietary interest, scripted or no. At one point, she looked up to find Mr. Henson watching them with a huge smile on his face, but when his eyes met hers, he merely shook his head. She finished her scenes, took her leave of her fellow actors and went on her way.
Finally, with nothing left to do but their fight scene and the buggy ride, Jim ambled over to talk to two of his favorite thespians. Jim’s new movie was discussed and congratulations to the happy couple were immediately forthcoming, but the talk soon became practical. With dawning wonder, Jim watched as Kermit sketched out how he thought the scene ought to play. Piggy looked at him attentively throughout, and the erstwhile buggy-driver did his best to keep his jaw from gaping open. When he turned at last to mount his buggy, he looked mildly flummoxed.
“Oh, Piggy—one more thing,” Kermit said. “You know that thing you do?”
Piggy gave him a startled look, but Kermit was clueless until a telling blush began to creep up her cheeks. Then he blushed and stammered himself until they both fell into giggling for a moment. After a moment, Kermit tried to reassume his questionable air of authority (or perhaps his air of questionable authority). “Piggy,” he said sternly. “That’s not—I mean, the thing you do where you do something and then pretend that you didn’t.”
Piggy stared at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“That’s it! That’s perfect!”
“What’s perfect?” Piggy asked, mystified but not about to let a compliment go unacknowledged. She preened a little, brushing her hair back from her face.
“Oh, you’re wonderful,” said Kermit fondly, leaning in to peck her on the cheek. “When the buggy ride is over, just do that.”
“Do what?” Piggy growled, but Kermit was moving away. She looked at him in exasperation. Honestly! Sometimes that frog was just impossible to understand.
When the scene was over, and the camera crews and technicians had all been sent packing, Scooter came over to take his leave. Jim had offered to squire the happy couple around the park until the buggy had to be returned. This offer was welcome to them both, and for more than one reason.
Returning to the park had reminded Piggy of Kermit’s sanguine comments about her degree of domesticity and she had found it very, very easy to argue with him in front of the cameras. Kermit had always held his own against Piggy’s tirades, however, so he bore up estimably under this scripted one, but some of the genuine emotion must have bled through on his part as well, and he felt truly baffled and indignant when the scene was over. He tried to shake it off and his manners were very gentlemanly as he helped Piggy up into the buggy seat. The scene played very nicely, in part because of their initial awkwardness with each other after the heat of the moment had passed. But by the time the last lines had been delivered, Kermit was aware of Piggy’s softening toward him and all his warm and contented feeling seeped back to the surface.
Jim turned around and grinned at them.
“Ready?” he asked.
Kermit settled back against the seat, one arm tight around Piggy’s waist and the other holding her hand. “Ready, driver,” he said in an exaggeratedly urbane voice. “Drive on.” Piggy giggled and leaned her head on his.
There is not much that a romantic horse-and-buggy ride through a beautiful park won’t cure, and there was not much that needed curing anyway, but the end of the ride found them happily nestled in the slowly swaying buggy. Piggy stirred sleepily when the ride was over, smiling at her husband.
“Ready to go home, Mrs. The Frog?” he asked. Piggy nodded solemnly. For the second time that day, Kermit swung her down from a conveyance right into his arms. It was a feeling she hoped to get used to.
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