Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve
Two small-ish turtles walked together through the forest on their way home, heads hanging and feet dragging. It had been another rough night for the aspiring young duo, who wanted nothing more than to entertain people, to make people smile. Unfortunately, they had been roundly unsuccessful at this goal thus far in life.
"I don't think I can do this anymore, Tommo," said the female turtle with a resigned sigh.
"What're you talking about, Emma?" the only slightly older male turtle replied incredulously. "We can't give up now, not after trying for so long."
"Face it, Tommo. We just aren't any good at entertaining. We weren't cut out for showbiz."
"That's not true! We've had 6 gigs this month!"
"Tommo, open mic night at The Happy Penguin is NOT a gig!" insisted Emma.
"Sure it is! We did great tonight. And that was just the start."
"Great?! What great? Tommo, we were chased off the stage!"
"Yeah, but not right away," challenged the persistently optimistic turtle.
"After three minutes!" Emma threw in his face.
"Right! We were on stage for nearly three minutes! That's a new record for us!"
Emma sighed, laughed, and tripped. She sighed because she was frustrated, she laughed because the irrepressible good humor of her friend Tommo was always infectious, and she tripped because she had trod on somebody's paw.
Tommo caught Emma, and as he steadied her the two looked down to determine the cause of her trip. Emma gasped in shock.
"Soft shells, Tommo! Look. Aw, the poor thing! Do you think he is still alive?"
Tommo examined the pile of fur with a critical eye.
"What is it, Emma? Are you sure it was ever alive to begin with?"
"Oh, Tommo, Don't be cruel. Can't you see? Its a bear."
"It is? Looks like a moldy rug."
"Hush, and help me check on him."
Emma grabbed a nearby stick and cautiously prodded Fozzie's prone form. The bear responded with a soft exhale.
"Oooooh, Tommo!" squealed the softhearted Emma. "He IS alive. We have to help him!"
"Right enough, Emma," grumbled Tommo cheerfully. "Couldn't be having with an ugly rug here in the middle of our forest. It'd look much better in front of the fireplace at home."
"Tommo!" cried an offended Emma. "What a truly awful thing to say."
"Where he can warm up a bit and have a nice dinner, I was going to say," added the playful Tommo.
Emma slapped Tommo for his cheekiness, but there was no malice in it.
"You're so mean," she declared.
"Mean?" protested Tommo. "What's mean about a nice dinner and a warm spot to sleep?"
"Mean to me," replied a bemused Emma.
A soft moan from Fozzie quickly killed their playful mood, and the two kind turtles immediately set their minds to the task of transporting a bear much larger than either of them. Eventually, they rigged up a device which could best be described as "probably the furthest thing away from an actual sled you could make while still calling it a sled," and through much strain and heaving, lashed the bear to it. Each turtle took a bit of rope over their shoulders, and pulling mightily, they began to drag the bear through the forest.
"You know, Emma, this has been a picture perfect day," said Tommo, who was rarely able to last longer than a few seconds without hearing his own voice. "When I woke up, I said to myself, 'Tommo, today is your day. You can miss breakfast, break your best walking stick, get chased off the stage for the fifth consecutive ...
"Sixth," interrupted Emma.
"...sixth, thank you, for the sixth consecutive performance, and when you are just about beat hollow, you can drag a bear through the forest on a shed made of tree bark."
"Happy to oblige," Emma stated cheerily. "Anything else I could do to bring your day closer to perfection?"
"No, I think this about caps it off," answered Tommo. "I just can't imagine this day being any more wonderful."
With that pronouncement, the heavens opened with a tremendous clap of thunder, and a gale storm poured down on the two turtles.
"Well, there is that," said Tommo.
Emma threw back her head and laughed mightily. Tommo joined in seconds later, and the two turtles regained their spirits. They continued to exchange playful banter for the next two hours as they slowly pulled Fozzie along. Eventually, they arrived at a humble cabin in the woods -- barely a mile from the hibernating caves, in fact -- and deposited a wet, motionless Fozzie Bear in front of an empty fireplace. Tommo sank into a nearby chair in relief, glad to be done with the hard work.
"Tommo," said Emma politely, "this idea of yours was a very kind one."
"Why thank you, Miss Emma, my lifelong friend," replied the tired but upbeat turtle playfully.
"I am sure the poor dear will benefit astoundingly from the virtues of your plan," continued Emma.
"That he will," agreed Tommo.
"But, my dear Tommo, I would point out that perhaps you could make one small change," continued Emma, "to even further benefit the health of this luckless creature."
"And what, pray, would that be, my lovely turtle friend?" asked Tommo, continuing in their game of mock-politeness.
"Oh, nothing big, nothing big," assured Emma. "It is barely a trifle of a thing. I simply thought our bear friend may gain even more from his current position if there was, perhaps, such a thing as a fire happening in the fireplace."
"Why my thoughtful Emma, what a wonderful idea!" replied Tommo, as he hopped out of his chair with feigned energy. "Allow me to retreat to the glorious nature around us and gather some wood for a fire. And while I am gone, you could perhaps cook dinner for the hapless bear. And maybe for the hapless turtle as well."
With that, Tommo exited the cabin. Emma smiled in admiration at her kindhearted friend as she ambled over to the stove. Tired though he may be, and terrible as the weather was outside, the turtle gave no complaints -- in fact, never had even a second thought -- about heading back into the elements for the good of a stranger. And while Emma considered the virtue of Tommo she searched through their sparse cupboards for the very best of their meager foodstuffs, never once giving a thought to the generosity of her own actions.
As Emma was putting the finishing touches on her stew concoction, Tommo trundled back into the room beneath a very full armload of wood. He'd covered the wood with his jacket, hoping to preserve some dryness. Mostly, it just served to make Tommo even more wet and cold.
"I ran into Bonsai," explained Tommo as he piled the wood near the fireplace. Bonsai was a beaver friend of the turtles. "When I explained everything to him, he helped me find a small tree that'd been mostly protected from the rain, and then cut it down for me."
"That's just like our Bonsai," Emma exclaimed happily. "You should've invited him for dinner."
This suggestion seemed to run completely in the face of the small amount of food in the cabin, but Emma was the sort of person who firmly believed any meal could always be stretched for one more.
"I did," replied Tommo.
"And?"
"And he smiled and ran off. You know how Bonsai is."
"Wonderful creature," mused Emma.
"Wonderful and totally round-the-bend," corrected Tommo.
"Well, he is a bit ... eccentric," admitted Emma.
"At least we got some dry wood," said Tommo, turning the conversation back to the situation at hand. "How's the bear?"
"He hasn't moved." Emma's tone dropped from lighthearted to sincere concern. "I don't know how we'll get him to eat."
"Maybe warming up will help him," offered Tommo as he built a fire with the driest of the pieces of wood he'd hauled home.
"I hope so."
Emma and Tommo sat together a few feet from Fozzie's motionless form and ate a bit of dinner. When they were finished, Emma hung the pot with the remaining food over the fire.
"Keep it warm until he's hungry," she explained optimistically.
The sat together on the floor, unable to take their eyes away from the pitiful bear on their floor. Hours passed in near silence, only occasionally punctuated by a thunderclap or one of the turtles making a small observation about their unlucky guest. The storm raged on relentlessly. All the while Tommo faithfully tended to the fire, fearful of what might happen to the bear should they be unable to return warmth to his body.
As the night wore on, Emma began drifting off; asleep against Tommo's shoulder. With no one else to keep him company, Tommo began talking to Fozzie.
"C'mon, Mister Bear, you've gotta pull out of this. Slumped over in the forest is no way to die. And besides, I don't want somebody dying in my cabin, it's creepy, okay? Lookit, there is a whole big world out there to conquer, and you're gonna pass it up to die here? There are..."
Tommo's monologue was suddenly interrupted by what would sound to the common ear like a war cry of some variety.
"Whaaaahoohooohaaaa!"
Emma's head snapped up, and her eyes instantly met Tommo's.
"Bonsai," they said together, eyes sparkling.
A few seconds later the door flung open, and a bundle of fur and teeth flew into the room and rapidly shook the water off itself. When it finally ceased moving, it looked up at the turtles with a wide, honest grin.
"Huyip!" he said happily.
"Oh, Bonsai! It's good to see you!" gushed Emma. "But why're you here so late?"
"Aaaaa-chaaa!" declared the beaver, as he pulled his belt from around his waist and held it aloft proudly, as if it were some sort of trophy.
"Your ... belt?" asked a confused Emma.
"Don't be silly, Em," answered Tommo. "He's got something in his belt."
Bonsai nodded eagerly, and opened several pouches, producing a collection of leafy green ferns.
"What is this, Bonsai?"
"Chee! Chee chee!" Bonsai pulled a miniature mortar and pestle set from another pouch, and empathically ground the foliage into a fine powder.
""Aaaaa-chaaa!" he stated as he held the bowl out for inspection.
Emma and Tommo leaned in to have a look.
"It's very nice, Bonsai," said Emma diplomatically. "Very ... green, and ... and, powdery."
Bonsai shook his head and clucked in bemused disapproval. While Tommo and Emma watched in bewilderment, Bonsai danced across the room to the fireplace and flung the powder into the flames. A thin, grey smoke quickly began to fill the room. Emma coughed on the acrid taste.
"Bonsai, it’s burning my eyes! What is that stuff?"
"Geeeeh," Bonsai waved a paw dismissively.
The smoke continued to form, although it never got particularly thick. Emma rubbed her eyes as smoke-tinged tears trickled out.
"Why'd you go and do that, Bon?" asked Tommo.
Bonsai turned and stared at Fozzie, pointing at him dramatically. The turtles then noticed the bear was softly coughing. In a matter of seconds, he sat up and began rubbing at his eyes fiercely to clear the smoke from them.
"Aaaaa-chaaa!" Bonsai declared in triumph.
Emma rushed to hug their friend.
"Oh, well done, Bonsai!"
"Well done indeed," echoed Tommo, who was right behind her.
"What's going on?" asked a groggy Fozzie Bear, who was now staring at the three creatures.
Emma instantly rushed to his side, and nearly hugged the life out of the very confused bear.
"Huyip," offered Bonsai in friendly greeting.
"Don't mind Emma," remarked Tommo as Fozzie continued to look entirely baffled. "She's a very soft-hearted turtle. Hey Emma, don't you figure the bear is hungry?"
Emma dropped her hug and covered her mouth with her hands in shock.
"Oh, I completely forgot! How rude of me to not think of it immediately. Would you like something to eat, Mister Bear?" she asked. "Of course you would, let me get you some stew."
Emma dashed to the cupboards to find bowls.
"Fozzie," said Fozzie in slow reaction to being called Mister Bear. "Fozzie Bear."
"Tommo," replied Tommo, extending a hand in greeting. “The huggy one is my lifelong friend Emma, and this here," he gestured at Bonsai, "is Bonsai, smartest beaver in the forest."
"Goo," said Bonsai shyly, kicking at the floor in front of him in embarrassment.
Fozzie shook Tommo's hand, still confused, but slightly relaxed by the kind treatment he was receiving.
"Um ... why am I here?" asked Fozzie finally.
And as Emma presented Fozzie and Bonsai with a very late dinner, Tommo told Fozzie how he'd come to be lying on their floor. As he was finishing the tale, Emma interrupted him suddenly.
"Wait!" she burst out. "Fozzie Bear as in Fozzie Bear of The Muppets? THE Fozzie Bear?!"
Fozzie shook his head sadly. "Not anymore."
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