Foster's Home copyright Time Warner
Tiny Toon Adventures copyright Amblin
Chapter 4: Babsy's Kid
Posted: 22 Jul 2008
"Now why would I know a stupid imaginary friend with a stupid name like that anyway?" Terrence bellowed.
"I don't know, mister. I was just hoping that you've seen her."
"Well I haven't. So just leave me the heck alone already." After he gave the little girl a proper sneer, he broke into a run to get away from her as far and as quickly as possible. He had enough nonsense from little brats like her to last him a week. But he couldn't have beat her up though.
But she was just a girl. So he couldn't hit her. No matter how hard he wanted to. Which he hated to do very much.
He didn't seem to be able shake her off however.
"Stop following me!" he yelled and he didn't slow his pace any. This girl was starting to be quite the nuisance. He might have to do something about her.
"But you hang out with imaginary friend, mister. I've seen with a giant purple one with great, big horns. So I figured that you knew where Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends was."
That got him to stop. "Don't be stupid. Do I look like somebody who would hang out with a bunch of stupid imaginary friends, stupid?"
That brat shrugged. "How should I know? I don't know that many teenagers."
Terrence snorted. "Of course you don't." He turned his attention back to the little twerp. "If I promise to take you to this place for stupid imaginary friends, do you promise to leave me the heck alone."
With grateful eyes, she nodded that she would.
"Good. I'm keeping you to that, you know."
She smiled. "Yeah. I know."
"Brat." But Terrence had spoken that so softly that he wasn't entirely sure that she had heard him.
-OOO-
Babs shrugged. "Hey, what's the worst that can happen?"
"He can pick up a stray, little girl looking an older man to look up to," Mrs. Jonson replied.
"Does that really happen?"
"More often than you would think."
"Oh? And what does he do with the girls that he bring home?"
"Be nice to them," Mac said suddenly. And sullenly. "Terrence wants a baby sister. He had always wanted a baby sister."
"Huh." Babs stared at a photo of someone who could only be Terrence. He was the only one in the picture she couldn't recognize. "Since when?"
"Since when I was born."
"Oh."
Nobody spoke for a long, long while. Babs wasn't one to sit there quietly, but not even her felt much like saying anything just then. It seemed that she had hit on a really sentisive subject with them, and it wasn't very often that she would even notice such a thing happening. She was usually too busy doing her shtick.
But eventually the silence was broken by the phone ringing. Mrs. Jonson went ahead and answered it. "Hello," she ventured after she picked it up. "Yes, she's here. Shall I put her on?"
She nodded. And handed the phone to Frankie. "Frankie, your boss wants a word with you."
"Oh really?" Frankie said as she took it from her hand. "What does he want?"
"It sounded like something about you leaving the premises without permission again."
"I left a message for him telling where I was and what I was doing there. What more could he want?" She answered the phone call. "Yeah. What do you want?"
As Frankie continued her conversation with the rabbit back home, Babs leaned in toward Goo. "What's with you? You haven't said a thing in ages."
It was about then that Babs noticed that Goo was fast asleep in her arms. "Does this sort of thing happen often?" Babs wondered.
"More often than you would think." Frankie had a break in her little discussion with Mr. Herriman. "She must have gotten overexcited and dozed off. Don't worry. It happens all the time."
"It does?"
"Oh sure. She-" But then Frankie had to return to her phone call, leaving herself out of everyone else's discussion.
And Mac had to finish for her. "She often burns herself from overexcitement."
"Really?"
Mac shook his head. "No. Not really."
"Ah."
Frankie ended her phone call. She didn't look too happy. "I'm sorry, guys, but I have to go back now. The rabbit is lost without me."
"Ahem!"
"I'm sorry, Babs. I meant the other rabbit."
"That's all right, Frankie. I quite understand." Babs stood and bowed to Mrs. Jonson. "I'm sorry that my visit was so short, but it seems that we have to go now."
"And you haven't even met my other son yet."
"Don't worry about it. I'm sure that we will get our chance to meet."
From somewhere in the bowels of the living, they could hear the front door open. "Mom! I'm home."
"I'm in here, honey!"
"Okay, mom!"
Mrs. Jonson's brow furrowed. "Terrence is home. And he bought another girl with her."
"Huh," Babs said. "I wonder what this one is like."
Frankie frowned. "I'm sorry, Babs. But we have to go. Now."
"But why? What's the hurry? Can't we stay a few minutes longer."
"I'm afraid not, squirt. It seems that Mr. Herriman can't get the pickle jar open."
"Pickle jar? What pickle jar?"
Terrence trounced into the room. "Who are these people? What are they doing here?"
Babs winched when she heard the squeal. "Babsy! I've finally found you!"
-OOO-
"I'm sorry, Mr. H. I don't think that this jar can be opened."
"Of course it can. All pickle jars can be opened. It just wouldn't be proper to sell jars that can't be opened, now would it?"
"No, I guess not," Wilt said sheepishly.
Meanwhile Mr. Herriman continued to try to get the pickle jar opened. Unsuccessfully. And it didn't appear that he was giving up any time soon. "Frankie had better get here soon, or I just lose my temper!"
"I'm sorry for wasting your time, Mr. Herriman." Wilt began slowly backing away. "I'll just see what Eduardo and Coco are up to." He left.
-OOO-
Babs nodded. "You're right, Frankie. It is time to leave."
"But why, Babs?" The girl whined. "Don't you want you want to see me?"
"Nope." Babs lifted her nose into the air.
"Why not?"
"You're not my kid."
"But Kathryn went to heaven, Babs. You're my imaginary friend now."
"Not if I don't want to be your friend," Babs countered.
And without another word, she left with Frankie.
Anna started to head after her, but Mrs. Jonson placed her hand on her shoulder. "Just give her some time to adjust. This must be very traumatic for her."
"But she had two years to adjust already!"
"Well some people need more time to adjust than others."
"How can you say that, Mrs. Jonson? You don't even know what I'm going through!"
"Actually you would be surprised about that…."
-OOO-
When Wilt backed himself out of the kitchen, he immediately bumped into someone. "I'm sorry. I should have been looking where I was going."
"Oh, Wilt, you apologize too much."
Frankie's laugh was quite infectious. Soon Wilt was caught up in it too. "I'm sorry. But I still don't see what's so funny."
"Oh… I think it might have been something I said." Babs smiled. "Don't worry about it. I get that sort of thing all the time."
"You do?"
"Sure do."
"Doesn't that get a tiring sometimes?"
"No. Why should it?" Babs shrugged. "It's my job to make people to laugh."
"Ah. I see." He turned to Frankie. "Mr. Herriman is still in the kitchen trying to open up the pickle jar."
"Yes, I know," she sighed before heading into the kitchen.
While Wilt went upstairs.
-OOO-
Mr. Herriman harrumphed when he saw Frankie enter the kitchen. Frankie rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know, Mr. H. Open the pickle jar for you." Which she proceeded to do. With no problems whatsoever. Once the jar was open, Frankie regarded closely. "Okay. What was the real answer that you have called me here? I know perfectly well that you can open jars without any help from me."
"Of course not, Miss Frances. It's just this particular jar was… unusually stubborn when I tried to open it."
"Huh-uh."
"Yes, that's right. And don't let anyone tell you anything different."
"Including myself?"
"Especially yourself." Mr. Herriman adjusted his coat. "But now that you're here, Miss Frances, there's something very important that I need to discuss with you. It concerns out latest resident here."
Frankie leaned her head to the side. "Oh?"
"Now pay attention, Miss Frances. This is very important."
Frankie listened.
And didn't like what she heard at all.
-OOO-
Babs was sitting on her new bed, moping. Everything had been going along perfectly well until she showed up. Why did she always have to mess everything up anyway? Whatever had Babs have ever done to her to deserve this?
She was still moping when a knock came from the door. She dried her tears with her sleeve. "Yes? What is it?"
"Can I come in?" It was Frankie.
"Sure," Babs said. "Why not?"
The door opened and Frankie came in. "Do you need anything, Babs?"
She shook her head. "Not right now."
"Well you know where I will be if you do." Frankie started to leave, but Babs stopped her with a single word.
"Wait."
"What is it, squirt?"
"Anna's not my kid. Kathryn is."
"But I thought you said that Kathryn was dead," Frankie wondered.
Babs looked up at her with hurt eyes. "But is that any reason why she still couldn't be my kid?"
"Well… that's usually how it works out."
"Not in my book, sister!"
Frankie sighed. "I suppose you could still love her. But wouldn't you would be a little lonely?"
Babs shook her head.
"Oh? And why is that?"
Babs wouldn't answer that question.
Frankie nodded. "Okay. I understand." She stood up. "If you need me, just give me a jingle, okay." She rang the little bell.
Babs nodded back and smiled. "Okay."
Frankie left the room. And so now Babs was all alone in her room.
But that was all right. Babs was used to being alone. She hadn't had very many friends beside Kathryn. She hadn't even met other imaginary friends that had been based what kids had seen on Tiny Toons. So she wasn't very good at making new friends.
Even if they are as wonderful as Frankie or Mac.
She got up. She had things that needed to be done.
She just wasn't sure what they were yet….
-OOO-
Mac was sleeping like a doll.
He still had his imaginary friend, his mother reflected.
She ran her fingers through his hair. Why couldn't she have stood up to her mother when she was his age? She missed Honky just about every day. It had seemed so natural letting him go. But now….
Why is that you only come up with solutions to these problems until well after the moment had passed? So many troubles in her life could have been avoided if only she had listened to her heart. She would still have her husband if only she had been more trusting. And she still would still have Honky if she had a little more backbone. She should have listened to her heart. Instead she had listened to her mother, got rid of Honky and eventually tried to make Mac abandon his friend.
She sighed. What a mess she had made of everything.
She kissed Mac on the forehead and left his room. One way or another she was going to make it up to him.
-OOO-
Anna lay on her bed, still unable to get to sleep. Was Babs having as much trouble falling asleep as she was? Why was Babs so dead set against being her friend? Was there any way of finding out?
She sat up. Might as well give into the inevitable.
She switched on the lamp on the nightstand by her bed. Once she had light she reached for the Harry Potter that she was reading. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. It was third time that she read the book. But she didn't mind. It wasn't like it sucked or anything. She was sure that she could read it seventeen more times before she got tired of it.
Unfortunately she barely got through the first sentence before her phone rang. "Hello?"
"May I speak to Anna Anderson?" The voice sounded kinda familiar, but Anna couldn't quite place it.
"Yes." She paused a moment before saying, "You're already speaking to her."
"Ah! That's good. I've tried three numbers already. I was beginning to give up hope."
"Yeah. But what do you want me for?"
"You know a certain Mac and his mother, don't you?"
"Not really. We just met." Anna shrugged, though she was quite sure that he couldn't see her. "Why do you ask?"
"I think she's my former kid."
"Ah." When she didn't hear him reply, she asked, "What makes you think so?"
He explained. Anna didn't think it was so convincing but didn't interrupt into he was finished. Even then she still didn't poke any holes in his arguments. If he said that Mrs. Jonson was his kid, then she must have been his kid. Heaven knew that she couldn't convince her friend that she was in fact Anna's friend. "Okay, what do you want me to do?"
After he explained what he wanted her to do, Anna nodded. "I understand."
"So will you do it?"
"Sounds like fun. When do you want me to start?"
-OOO-
Mrs. Jonson didn't feel too whoopee that morning, so she let Mac make the coffee. He was so helpful. He was always looking for ways to make her mornings easier. But she usually wanted to make the coffee. It was a usual part of her usual morning ritual. But today she was feeling a little frazzled. Things were just getting too hectic at work for her. You would think that, barring the rare robbery, being a bank teller would be the easiest job in the world. Boy, did she know that wasn't so. She had to deal with pushy patrons. And her boss was a real jackass. He even looked like one too. But just because the man resembled a barnyard animal, was that any reason to behave like one? Today was her quarterly review.
Not exactly something that she was looking forward to.
"Terrence," she called down the hall, "your breakfast is getting cold!"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Terrence called back. "I'm coming!"
"I wish that he wouldn't do that," she commented as she filled her cup with coffee. She sighed. "It reminds me too much of his father."
"What was that?" Mac wondered. He was already sitting at the table, already eating his. Unlike his brother, who had yet to make an appearance.
Mrs. Jonson shook her head. "It's nothing."
"O-kay." Mac gave her a funny look but didn't press the issue.
Terrence came out. And he didn't look like his usual, cheery self. "What's wrong, sweetie? You look like you have seen your ghost."
When he hadn't answered, she was afraid that he did see his ghost. But at long last he did speak. "I didn't get any sleep last night."
"What's worrying you, honey?"
"Nothing that I can't handle, mom."
"Are you sure?"
Terrence nodded.
"That's good." She pulled out a chair in front of a plate filled with bacon and eggs. "Come on, honey. Your breakfast is getting cold."
He shook his head. "No thanks. I'm getting something on the way." He left without saying goodbye.
"There's gratitude for you," Mac said sullenly.
"Don't worry about it, Mac. I'm sure that his reasons." And I'm sure that they involve that girl had came to visit last night.
The phone rang.
"I wonder who would be calling at this time of morning," she wondered aloud as she answered. Mac shrugged. "You've reached the Jonsons. Who might this be?"
"Hello, Maggie," the voice said. "It's your old imaginary friend. Honky!"
