Today is going to be fun, today is going to be fun, today is going to-
"Can we get iced cream, Frankay?" A snuzzly-voiced friend asked her from the midsection of the van. Frankie's thoughts were halted immediately as she tried to calm down from her last outburst. She was completely silent before parking, and the moment she completed a very poor job of taking up only one space, she began breathing in and out in heaves.
"No you cannot!" Frances Foster barked at her charges. Their heads fell down in quivers, one of the friends' literally doing so. The caretaker gave herself a second to recompose, before going to the headless friend to reset the damage. "Kids, these days, can't imagine a thing of their own. What was this guy inspired by? Rayman?" she grumbled in her head as she fixed the friend's head into position. When asked if it fit right, the friend nodded. "Okay, everyone ready? Got everything?" she asked as she looked around the cramped vehicle. There was nothing amiss that she could see, "Alright, let's go!" she shouted excitedly, a bit of her own kookiness coming out, before letting the friends rampage yet another pool.
Well, that was a bit of an overstatement. Ever since a certain azul friend got them banned from one, she and Mr. Herriman made sure to chart down which friends got to go on which date. But things ran smoothly since Foster's included that policy, and Frankie was able to keep Bloo down enough that they wouldn't have to leave again. Honestly, it wasn't that bad when he wasn't around. Most of the friends were cool about things and didn't give anyone too much hassle. As the caretaker looked for a spot to both tan and watch her charges, she saw someone familiar on the other side of the pool.
It looked like Mac, and his mother and brother too. The kid who visited her job so much seemed to have noticed her first (which wasn't hard considering that the friends were constantly auspicious at drawing eyes in) because he was headed her way. She watched as he darted along the right side of the pool, the area with the steps, but quickly slowed down as his mother seemed to warn him of slipping. "Hiya, Frankie." he greeted. His noise was kind of sunburnt, giving him a cute little bulb of red on it.
"Hi, Mac. I didn't know that your folks went to this pool."
"We just started to because it was bigger. C'mon, I'll introduce you to my mom." Mac responded, and he wasn't kidding: The pool was like half the size of a parking complex. Frankie laughed to herself a bit morosely as she looked past Mac to see that the pool was now half-filled.
"Well, I guess, sorry for ruining your guys' day." she said as she nodded his attention to the little amount of free water left. He sighed, but remembered that the woman before him had brought friends with her, causing him to giggle out a question as he led her over to his mom.
"Is Bloo with you guys?" he asked with a smile that stretched beyond the bounds of excitement. But the sigh Frankie gave him was not at all appealing. They brushed past a friend that was running out of the pool from the steps. Frankie stopped to scold them for running before continuing to follow Mac.
"I'm sorry, Mac. But the only way we could still be allowed in any of the other pools was if we didn't bring Bloo. You know how disastrous public situations with that friend of yours can get." Mac grunted an audible sigh wih sullen, pouty eyes.
"He must be all alone at Foster's." Mac noted empathetically. That compassion Mac had was always one her favorite qualities of his character.
"He's probably playing videogames right now." she said as warm as the sunny day to comfort her little buddy.
"I guess. Hey, mom, this is the caretaker in charge of Foster's." Mac said. But his words seemed to have no effect. He spoke again, and a sputter of an awakening snort burst from his mother. When she finally got used to the light, she spoke.
"Oh, hi sweetie, was there something you... Who is this?"
"Mom, this is Frankie. She works at Foster's. I met her when we dropped off Bloo." Mac stated flatly. His mother stared at the two for a second, before gasping.
"Young miss, what do you think you're doing dating my son? A sixteen-year-old should not be attracted to someone half her age!" Ms. Kazoo began going into a frenzy, garnering the eyes of other people in the pool. Mac desperately tried to get her to quiet down, as Frankie could feel the daggers of people around her begin to cut down her onepiece. "And of course you work at Fester's Hut for Delusional Fiends! I swear, if you touched my-"
"Mom, she isn't my girlfriend! She's just a friend. She takes me home sometimes from school." This, coming from one of her friends, made Frankie's face flush for miles around from the implications of these statements. She wanted to budge Mac to shut him up and just let this crazy woman calm down. But she knew if she touched him she might get arrested. It was surprising that this person was Mac's mother.
"Honey, be quiet, Mommy's talking." Ms. Kazoo hushed him, before going back into her haranguing, "You! I bet you just are the market person who convinces people to get those delusions like they're pets, 'cause you're too sick to do any actual cleaning!" With the amount of work she did, Frankie felt very insulted at such a statement. The caretaker was about to retort, before Mac interviened.
"Mom, please, calm down. She's just like a friendly teacher. And she's super responsible, she's like twenty-something." Mac exasperated, placing himself between the two. But this was only gas to a lavapool, something so inane no one could predict the outcome of.
"Pedophile! I'm calling the police!" Mac's mother screeched. Frankie's twitching frown turned into a mixture between an extremely stupid-looking grin, and the facial muscle stretches of someone in a 19th century outhouse. As she watched the mother storm off with her child, she felt a tap on the shoulder. She turned slowly with the same contorted face to find an officer of the law wanting her attention.
"Could you please come with me, ma'am?" The officer said in a husky, but etching voice. Frankie gulped as she complied with his wishes, following him ouside of the pool area. Her foot kept wanting to dash away to nowhere, but she held it firm, despite its constant shaking. The cop led her to the parking lot to the van, which was diagonally parked in not two, but three lanes. "Could you explain this to me, miss?" He said, snorting afterwards.
"I, uh, have a hectic life. I'm constantly taking care of friends." Frankie answered shyly, trying to close the gap between her neck and hips as much as possible in an awkward bend.
"Friends? What kind of friends?" The cop asked. She could tell he saw her debacle only seconds ago. Even from the parking lot, she could feel people watching her even now. There was a tightness in her chest and she felt she couldn't speak. The officer noted her apprehension and suggested something for her, "Young friends, miss?"
"N-No, that lady took everything out of context. Look, I work at Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends. I deal with imaginary friends." She explained slowly, gauging his reaction every second while trying to improve how innocent she looked. When he heard her last two words, the bushy brown brows of the cop raised higher than a war debt.
"The place we got Duhuupy?" The cop asked as he put away the notebook and pen he had out.
"That one guy with the basketball hoop head?" Frankie asked, remembering that particular friend somewhat.
"Yeah! Oh! I'm so sorry," the officer cried in realization, "You're that lady who led us through the manor."
"Um, us?"
"Yeah," the officer continued, "The redhead. I didn't recognize you 'cause of the hair." Her hair was currently down, hanging at her scapulas. "No wonder you know the kid over there! You remember Meggy, right?" Frankie shook her head slowly with a blank face of shock of the situation. But the cop passed it off, "Of course you do! You helped us pick out the best friend for her. Since then, she's been doing so good on her team." Frankie almost let her mouth drop agape at what a bad cop this guy was. "I was originally gonna talk with you about this van but..." he cut himself off, thinking, "You know what, just fix the parking job and I'll take care of that rude person who attacked you earlier." He said as he went inside to the pool-house, where Mac was dragged to so a call could be placed.
Frankie quickly accomplished her side of the bargain, and hoped her new-found friend would be able to explain the whole thing. At this point she felt it futile to not admit Mac visited Foster's still. The kid told her and everyone else in the manor how his mother hated the idea of imaginary friends. Figuring that a revealing attire wouldn't win her any favors, the caretaker rerobbed herself with the articles she drove to the pool in.
Frankie returned to the pool to find most of the people seeming to give her slightly apologetic frowns. It was only now that she realized a few of the imaginary friends in and around the pool were not ones she brought with her. The officer from before was within the pool grounds, still chatting with people. He looked to her, looked to the parking lot, than flashed her a thumbs up. Frances timidly waved back. Mr. Herriman's going to give me shit, I just know it.
As Frankie looked about the concrete plaza for a place to sit and relax for once this morning, she saw a very familiar woman looking upon her. Ms. Kazoo looked less frazzled and her face expressed some apologetic invitation. Heaving a hefty mental sigh, Frankie decided it couldn't hurt too much and approached the crazy woman. As she walked towards her, Frankie sucked on her suddenly dry lips, trying to find the appropriate words for such an inappropriate situation.
"Ms. Kazoo? I'm sorry about the incident earlier, if you don't want me near..."
"Oh dear, I'm the one who should be apologizing." Ms. Kazoo interrupted while padding the seat next to her for Frankie to sit in, which she did so, "I-I get like that sometimes. I try to keep up with my state, but it's been stressful, y'know?"
"No I do not." Frankie said plainly and truthfully confused, waiting to see if the beast behind this so-and-so beauty would reappear like magic out of a hat.
"I work at a bank, Regins Old. And, what I'm trying to say is that it's very stressful. Especially with two kids to feed."
"I think I know what you're getting at, but I don't see how it relates to your... behavior." the caretaker said quite slowly, trying not to mince words while also trying not to offend.
"It isn't something I like saying but... Because of my situation I have a condition that tends to flip my personality." Ms. Kazoo stated pitifully, almost having to force the words out of her system. That... kind of touched Frankie, in a deep way. She could definite empathize with having her brain spun out from being over-worked. But the fact that a woman in a very similar position she was in got a problem like this scared her. It was if the only thing separating her from this mother were those imaginary friends. Frankie, remembering what her duties were today, looked upon the pool as Ms. Kazoo waited for her response. It all looked fine.
"I think I understand now and- I'm sorry- I just came over to say that if you want Mac to stop coming over to my jobsite then that's fine. It's your right as a parent." Frankie finally answered the eager mother.
"What a good parent I am." Ms. Kazoo scoffed. "His visits are fine, but... I guess there's just some bad blood between me and imaginary friends."
"You had one, didn't you?" Frankie asked, feeling too empathetic with this woman to not try and find a lighter tone. When it came to childhood imaginary friends, Frankes Foster felt like a born therapist in the field of memories of such a relationship. Miss Kazoo did not answer her, instead staring into the bright cyan waters. The caretaker did not wish to break the silence, out of respect for a woman in such a terrible position. It made Frankie think of Ms. Kazoo's relationship with her children, with Mac.
"I don't know. Oh, what is your name, by the way?" The mother suddenly piped up.
"Uh, Frances Foster."
"But people call you "Frankie"?" Ms. Kazoo asked as the person named such nodded. "Well, you can call me Delilah."
"Okay, Delilah." Frankie sat back in the chaise lounge chair a bit further, as her muscles stopped bulging from tenseness she didn't know she was holding. She chuckled quietly to herself about how she came here to relax, and now that she could it was so awkward. But apparantly she didn't hide that chuckle very well, as Delilah asked her what she was laughing about. "It's nothig. It's just hat I cam here to relax!" Frankie joked, before seeing the mother's face, despoiled of joy, "Oh, I didn't mean to go off on you." Frankie hurriedly tried to reaffirm.
"No, it's fine. But, I have some tanning spray if you want to relax." Delilah offered like a guilty dog offering a dead bird. If she'd been drinking something, Frankie might have spit it out trying to accept the offer. They helped each other get their bodies sprayed and laid down. The mother also offered Frankie a pair of sunglasses that were a bit masculine, but fit alright. They laid on their stomaches facing each other and talking about their current lives: things like their jobs, hobbies, future interests.
"Hey Frankie, come see wat Mac is doing!" A familiar, annoying glossy voice met Frankie's ears. It was like someone had put an old car horn in his throat when he was created. Maybe it was Terrence who'd done it.
"What do you want... BLOO?" Frankie shouted when she realized the azul menace had invaded yet another of her peaceful moments. The caretaker ripped off her sunglasses but couldn't see him momentarily due to the sun's brightness. The light shined off Bloo as if his demon skin rejected it. "Bloo, why are you so shiny? And why are you here?" Frankie screeched.
"Mac dared me to wash myself in some dude's lotion." Bloo began to explain. Frankie put a finger to the waxy substance all over Bloo.
"Bloo, this is hair gel! How did you get this much? How much is it?" Frankie began to tumble on in irritation. Initially, anything Bloo did would drive her absolutely livid, but by now she'd been desensitized to his schemes and dupes. "Speaking of which, where is Mac?"
"Over there in the adult end." Bloo answered with simplicity. Frances blinked once. And she continued blinking.
"Bloo," Frances jumped from her lounge and got on one knee, "Where is Mac?"
"Back there." Bloo pointed to the adult end. Frankie hung her head for a second before rushing to the pool. Mac had a sugar problem. Not because he couldn't stop eating it, but because if he did, his body didn't process it correctly, and it actually activsted other carbohydrates within his body, giving him a lot of energy that needed to be output in some way. It was in truth a hormonal disease, so with something as frightening as the deep end is to a child, Mac's hormones for fight or flight would either shock his body with energy or lock off his energy, more likely the latter. She knew because he told her this. And also because it almost happened before with her present.
The water broke in a giant burst, spreading everywhere as Frankie dived into the deep. As she entered, she found why diving was ill advised. She wasted precious seconds and breath on redirecting herself. The chlorine stung her eyes, but the thought of a child dying stung more. She could just barely make out the form of Mac's skin and shorts. As she swam over, she saw Mac staring with a pinned, numb fear on his face as his hair danced in the motions of the pool. She drew an arm under his, and placed her feet to ascend. The surface split as if it had been hit by a missle and Frankie held Mac up out of the water by half his body. Exerting all her strenght, she dashed her legs towards the edge of the pool with a ladder. With all the strength she had, she lifted the boy out of the water and onto the concrete. After a second to regain her oxygen, she too arose from the pool.
Around this event, the entire pool goers gathered, pointed, murmured of, and observed as Frankie checked Mac. "Hey, kid! Buddy! C'mon, do you see my fingers." She desperstely asked, fearing the absolute worst outcome. She moved her fingers but Mac barely twitched his eyes to meet them. "Okay, okay, I know- hauh- his -hauh- is- haugh- weird," she began to compress his structure, and then met his lips with her lungs full, "But- uhh- is- hah- the- hauh- only way- haugh- to get- hah- this- huh- crap- huah- out of- haughh- you." She continued to compress and refill him. From his state of vision, he seemed to have the smallest amount of consciousness.
Frankie continued recessing him, not know if he would get better or when she might faint. Or if it might be too late now. From the crowd around Frances, Delilah saw her boy being automated to a point of redundancy of the recessitation's effects. Every second collapsed another pillar in the crowds heart, and when Frankie stopped many of them cried. But she began again. "Please, please..." She could almost feel her urgency like a pitiful sludge on her onepiece, which abrased her skin from the water drying. She went to give him air again, holding her lips against his tighter than she held his nose closed.
The child startled and gushed water out of his system, some of it entering Frances' mouth. Millions of droplets drained out his esophagus and trachea as he fell nearly prostrate with his head before the ground. When she saw a glimpse of his face, she could see it was a thin, near-white, blue, and his eyes were so bloodshot they looked crimson. Mac was rushed into the pool house, where some medical supplies were, while Frankie was cheered on as she followed. The two of them needed a mask.
When she had dried, warmed, and got her respiratory system checked, she drove the friends, including Bloo, back to the Foster Manor. Everyone was silent for once. And, Frances couldn't tell if water had gotten in her ears or if it was the stress of the moments today, but she heard, and to a lesser extent felt, a negligible static in the air. It seemed to hover around her until she got to her room. Immediately, she changed, and rested her eyes for many minutes.