Ch. 7- Trouble Brewing

Sorry it's been so long since an update: school has started up, and with that goes all the chaos that usually accompanies the start of school, and all the paperwork I have to get done. Thanks again to all my reviewers; hopefully it won't be too long before I can find time to write another chapter.

By 10:00 am, things had begun to settle back into a fairly normal routine for the residents of Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends…well, almost. There appeared to be an ever-increasing rumor going around that one particular Imaginary Friend had been getting a little too friendly with one of the staff, so to speak. It was not long before news of this rumor reached one of the accused parties in question.

Frankie was performing one of her least-favorite household chores-cleaning bathrooms-when she happened to overhear a conversation outside in the hallway between a small, stick-shaped Friend and the aforementioned Chester, and upon hearing HER name mentioned specifically, paused in her work long enough for a bit of eavesdropping.

"Yeah, can you BELIEVE him and that gal's been gittin' it on in the kitchen every dang mornin'? Right there under our noses, just about?'

"Seriously, who'd a thought him and Frankie would be…you know…doin' THAT, and right here in her grandmother's own house, too! Sure seems like there'd be rules against that sorta thing!"

WHAT! What did they mean by "him and Frankie"? And exactly WHAT was this supposedly awful thing that the two of them had been doing? Well, Frankie Foster had never been the sort to let things like this slide by without further investigation, especially when it allegedly involved HER, so she resolved there and then to get to the bottom of this. Putting down her scrub brush, she stood up and marched straight out into the hallway to confront the two.

Needless to say, the two conversationalists were quite surprised to look up and see HER standing there, arms crossed in that determined, take-no-prisoners fashion. Chester attempted to cover for his part in the conversation, fumbling for the right words, while his companion seemed to have literally frozen in place, his one huge eye open wide.

"Mornin', Miss Frances…uh, shore is nice purty weather we're havin' today, ain't it?" he drawled, the nervousness in his voice evident.

"Well, Chester, you know, I hadn't noticed the weather, since according to YOU two, I've supposedly been too busy 'gittin' it on" with someone, which really is news to ME! Now, which of you two wants to explain just what this is all about, hmmm? And don't try claiming that you didn't say anything about ME, because I was just right on the other side of this door, and heard everything!"

For a moment, the two Imaginary Friends said nothing, clearly trying to line up their responses before opening their mouths. Frankie stood her ground; if someone was spreading rumors about her, or anyone else for that matter, she intended to get to the bottom of it. Finally, it was the green stick-like Friend who spoke up, in a surprisingly deep voice.

"You know, it's really NOT any of our business, you know…who…you…you know…sleep with or stuff…"

Frankie's jaw dropped. She was hardly able to believe what she was hearing, let alone formulate an intelligent response. "Who I WHAT with? Did you just say SLEEP? I'm being accused of SLEEPING with someone, as in someone IN THIS HOUSE?"

Chester responded, hesitantly, "Well, ain't nobody accusin' you so much as they is leavin' evidence; I mean, there WUZ this-here picture of y'all, 'n all…" his eyes were downcast, as though he was hoping to find some really interesting on the floor.

"A PICTURE? Of me and WHO, pray tell! I mean, I sleep with a TEDDY BEAR, for Pete's sake!"

"Well, let's see…I do believe it wuz you 'n Mister Wilt, that tall red guy, all snuggled up right thar on the couch, and me 'n Shaky 'n Patterson DID hear him say over breakfast this mornin' that y'all been busy in the kitchen pert-near EVERY mornin…"

"Yeah, we've been BUSY making BREAKFAST for the rest of YOU guys!" Something began to dawn of Frankie, something that had been nagging at the back of her mind every since she'd been awakened that morning, and with sudden clarity, it came to her just what it was: that noise.

That mysterious sound she'd heard as she was waking up, but couldn't quite place-NOW she realized what it was.

It had been the sound of a Polaroid camera, taking a snapshot. That would also explain the bright flash of light, which Frankie had originally attributed to the television set.

She had to stay calm, she reminded herself. OK, so someone HAD seen her and Wilt asleep on the sofa, and had apparently taken a Polaroid picture of them, a picture which was now circulating about the house. But the questions remained, WHO, and WHY? Was this someone's idea of a joke, or, was it something even more serious? Closing her eyes, and placing her index fingers against her temples, Frankie tried to remain cool and collected, to get the information she needed.

"Ok, you say there was a photograph…WHO had the photograph?"

"Uhm", the stick-like Friend responded, somewhat hesitantly, "Handy showed it to me, but he swore he didn't take it. HE said that Albert gave it to HIM…"

"…and Albert said that Daisy give the picture to HIM…" Chester waded in.

That was exactly what Frankie had been fearing; someone had taken the snapshot, then simply left it lying around, where they KNEW it would be discovered, and it was apparently making its round throughout the house, which would of course make tracking down the primary culprit-the photographer-more difficult. First, though, Frankie needed to find the photo itself, before it ended up in either the hands of Mr. Herriman, or worse, her grandmother! She also felt that she needed to make the second victim of this little scandal aware of what was going on, if he didn't' already know.

This was going to be a looooong day.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

It didn't take Frankie long to find her alleged partner in crime, since he, apparently, was also looking for HER. They met up with each other in the foyer, in almost the exact same spot at which, just the day before, Wilt had nearly walked right over her in his search for a plastic wash pail. Today's search, though, was a bit more urgent.

Upon spotting each other, they both tried to speak at the same time, Wilt calling out Frankie's name, followed by, "Something's happened, we need to talk!" while at the same moment Frankie called out to HIM, telling HIM that they needed to talk. This was followed by an awkward moment of silence, with each uncertain of whether to go ahead and speak, or wait for the other one, then each prompting the other one to go first. Since Wilt was the one most insistent upon Frankie speaking first, her turn finally won out.

"Look…somebody apparently DID catch us after we fell asleep on the sofa, and took a PICTURE! That sound…the one I thought I'd heard right before I was really awake, you know, the one I asked you about…it was a camera! I just spoke with Chester and that stick guy, and they both have seen the photo!"

"Yeah, I know, that's what I was tryin' to find you about! A bunch of guys kept ribbin' me and stuff, asking me things like, 'how was it?'-I didn't even know what they were talkin' about 'till one of 'em mentioned having seen you 'n me in a photograph, uh, you know…sleepin'!"

Frankie sighed in exasperation. WHO would have done such a thing, and what did they stand to gain from it? She responded to Wilt's obvious agitation, "Alright, the first thing we need to do is to track down that photo and THEN we need to find out who actually took the snapshot in the first place. This is either someone's idea of a joke, or somebody is really trying to cause trouble for you AND for me…" ; Wilt interrupted her, "Yeah, but it will mean much MORE trouble for ME if that picture winds up in the hands of Mr. Herriman OR your grandmother! I can get EXPELLED for this sorta thing, if they get the wrong idea about what you 'n me were actually doin' on that sofa! I mean, there ARE rules against us…us Imaginary Friends, I mean, and employees…well, YOU know…AND your grandmother OWNS this house I'm bein' ALLOWED to stay in! If SHE finds out…oh, this is SOOO not OK!"

Frankie could hear panic creeping into Wilt's voice, growing every more evident by the seconds. She knew that in spite of his nearly-always-cheerful demeanor, Wilt was always a bit afraid of doing something that would make the powers-that-be angry enough to throw him out of the house, back out on his own. She also knew that both of them needed to stay as calm as possible, in order to get to the bottom of this.

"Look, Wilt, just stay calm, will ya? It's not going to do either one of us a bit of good to panic, so we have to just try to stay rational, OK?"

"Sorry, Frankie; I know that's easy for YOU to say, since Madame Foster IS your grandmother, but me? I dunno…if your grandmother gets her hands on that photo, I'm dead. That's all there is to it; I AM DEAD. I might as well just go ahead 'n lay down on the floor with a lily on my chest as soon as I see her comin', 'cause I'm dead!"

"Oh, come on! What's she gonna do-she's an old lady, for crying out loud! Besides, my grandmother is a lot more reasonable than that; I'm sure if worse came to worse, MY word ought to at least count for something. I mean, seriously, we DID just fall asleep on the sofa while watching television! Surely we're not the only two intelligent beings on the planet who've ever done that, right? Let's just try to stay calm, let's go back and talk to the last people we know have seen the photo, find out WHERE they saw it, and who had it, you know, leave no stone unturned-that sorta thing."

Wilt seemed to ponder this train of thought for a few seconds, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, his one real eye glancing around, nervously as he chewed his bottom lip a bit. Finally, he sighed and responded. "I guess you're right. Panicking isn't going to get us anywhere, and neither is all this negative thinkin' of mine." Then he added, "I'm sorry, but whoever did this is just WRONG!" a bit of anger now beginning to creep into his voice on top of the anxiety.

"Yeah, I know. We'll find out who it is, but our first priority is getting our hands on the photo, before Mr. Herriman, at least, sees it. He's the one I'd worry about more than my grandmother, personally. THEN we can worry about damage control, and finding out who's behind all this. Let's split up, OK-I think we'd have a better chance of finding it if you took one part of the house, and I took the other, right?"

"Yeah, you're right. We do need to split up. I mean, if anyone DOES see us even talkin' to each other right now, it's just gonna make things worse." With another sigh, he turned slowly and headed off towards the kitchen area. Frankie stayed where she was briefly, watching him go. She couldn't help but feel sorry for him, and a little afraid that Wilt MIGHT be right about what would happen if that photo did indeed end up in the wrong hands. It would be such ashame for someone as nice, and completely innocent of wrongdoing, in this case, to be punished by the thing he feared the most: being abandoned yet again. Finally, she too, turned to head away in the opposite direction. Wilt's voice stopped her.

"Hey, Frankie?"

"Uhm, yeah?"

She turned to see that he'd stopped, and was looking back over his shoulder at her, the slightest hint of a smile trying to establish itself on his face.

"You really don't snore as bad as I said you did, I just wanted you to know that. I've heard much worse, believe me!"

Frankie couldn't help but grin, shaking her head a bit. At first, that statement had seemed rather odd, in light of their current situation, but then, she'd learned to expect no less from Wilt.

"Thanks for telling me. Now, at least that's one less thing for me to worry about!"