Part 119

That night, Jerry was asked to join the boys in their bed. He reveled in the pleasure they gave him before laying back on the bed, covered by the blankets.

Seeing that Gunter was in a pretty good mood, he bit his lip. "You know… your brother was… he seems nice."

The hog scoffed. "I never said he wasn't. He was always nice to everyone. But… I just can't forgive him for Leonhardt." He leaned back on the pillow. "If he hadn't told my father…"

"Maybe he had a good reason," the cat suggested. "Have you asked his side of it?"

"I don't need to," Gunter said firmly. "It's obvious. He's a dirty traitor who sold us out!"

Jerry nodded. He could see the pig was going to be stubborn about this. "So… maybe… You know, he wants to take Sarah to lunch tomorrow. Maybe I should tag along. Make sure she's safe with him." He suggested.

Eddie stroked Gunter's forehead consolingly. "That's a good idea. We don't want to deny Sarah time with her other uncle."

The pig nodded. "No. We don't. But yeah, I don't really trust him alone with her." He looked at Jerry. "Thank you, Jerry." He kissed the top of his head. "But I don't want to talk or even think about my traitorous brother. I want to think about my Eddie and you."

Jerry nodded. "You can think about me as much as you want." He agreed. He needed to get the two pigs talking but for now, he'd mind his own business. The two guys surrounded him, each putting an arm around him as they went to sleep.

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Another sleepless night, Rosita thought. She had thought the nightmares were done but they had come back. She was forced to watch Buster fall to his death every night. She didn't tell Norman because he would worry. Her thoughts kept going back to the prior year. She remembered when they first made plans for Redshore City.

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She was the first one to the theater, believing she needed to show her children how important punctuality was and she believed in leading by example.

"Ha ha!" She found her boss sitting in his swivel chair, reading the reviews.

"Are they that good?" She asked with a smile as she offered him a lunch box. "I made you some breakfast. I know your habit of working instead of eating."

The koala laughed and opened the box. A turkey sausage patty and fresh egg sat on a golden croissant beside a pile of hashbrowned potatoes and a cup of freshly cut peaches. "Thank you, Rosita."

She smiled. "My kids love breakfast sandwiches so I learned how to make them myself."

He grinned and dug into the wholesome meal. "You're the best, Rosita. I like to think my mother would have done the same. She died when I was born so I never found out."

"Well, I'm happy to care for you in her stead," she promised. "Now, tell me about the reviews."

He offered her the paper. "Absolutely amazing. Even better than I, Sir Optimism, expected. Super Silly Fun says Theater Critic Rodney Polack, who saw the show on opening night with his children. They spent the whole show singing along. It's a hit! It's a total home run, out of the park. I'm so proud of all of you." He picked up another paper.

The mother pig sat down. "I know my kids loved it. Caspar says thank you for letting him be one of the flowers. He really looks up to you."

Buster waved off the compliment. "Tell him I said thank you for rounding out our chorus. He did great. He can be in any of our shows."

Rosita read the rest of the paper. "Oh look, Mr. Moon! It's a story on Crystal Entertainment in Redshore City. Mr. Crystal is looking for his next big show."

He chuckled. "Yep and I've already sent his talent scout an open date ticket with an invitation to come see it." He boasted.

"What? Are you sure we're ready? I've heard he can difficult to please," she said.

Buster hopped off his chair. "I know we are, Rosita. So let's do it! The others will be here soon and we'll tell them the plan. Imagine it, performing Alice in Wonderland in Redshore City."

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She wiped her eyes. "I should've said no, we're not ready. We should never have gone." She buried her face in her hands.

She was so lost in her grief that she didn't hear the pitter-patter of little feet. Suddenly, a little figure climbed up into her lap, hugging her.

"Caspar, honey, what's wrong?" She asked as she wiped her eyes.

"You were crying. Mr. Moon said I should come give you a hug," he told her.

She stared at him then she realized. "You dreamed about Mr. Moon?" She asked.

He nodded. "Uh-huh. I have a lot of dreams about Mr. Moon. About Christmasses together and old shows. Remember when I played Charlie in the Willy Wonka show?"

She laughed. "Of course, I do. I have pictures." She reached across the couch to the shelf under the coffee table. She took an album from the shelf and opened it. Together, they looked at the photographs from their other shows and the other things they'd done as a theater family. She realized that her son had been in many shows. "You've really become quite the actor, my little man. You've been in a good 80 percent of the shows we've done."

He smiled. "I'm going to be like Mr. Moon someday. Like Big Brother Eddie. I want to help make the shows."

Rosita held him close. "I have no doubt in my mind that you are going to be the next New Moon Theater manager." She picked him up. "Now, it's only just after midnight, so let's go back to bed. Ooof, are you sure you're only 11? It won't be long before you're too big for me to carry." She teased.

He hugged her. "I should find a way to stop growing," he quipped, earning a chuckle as she put him back in his bed. "Goodnight Mommy."

She kissed his forehead and tucked the blankets around him. "Goodnight my darling. I love you. And if you dream of Mr. Moon again, tell him I say hi." She giggled.

"Okay Mommy." He sighed sleepily and his eyes closed on their own.

She watched him and his brothers sleep for a few minutes before getting up and going back to her bedroom. She needed to try and sleep a few hours before her quints demanded their late night feeding.

Her husband was sitting up. "Are you alright?" He asked.

She nodded. "Caspar had a bad dream," she lied. "I needed to help him fall back asleep."

He looked into her eyes. "Your eyes are red and puffy," he observed calmly, gently stroking her forehead. "Did you have a bad dream again?"

Rosita didn't know why she tried to hide things from him anymore. He knew her too well. "I think it's because we're getting ready to go back. To do this show."

He sat up. "Then why not let Porsha cancel?"

She shook her head. "Because he would never want us to cancel it. He'd want us to see it through. For the honor of the troupe. Besides, not going won't necessarily help. I'm sorry." She looked down at her hands as he rubbed her back.

A knock came at their door and she looked up. "Caspar? Did you have another bad dream?"

He shook his head. "I can't sleep. Can I sleep with you?" He asked.

Rosita and Norman regarded each other and they nodded. He ran to the bed and jumped up. They started to cover him when another piglet appeared. "Hannah?"

Hannah looked at them. "Can I sleep with you too?" She asked. "I can't sleep."

One by one, all 25 piglets came to the door and joined their parents. Rosita laughed at the sleeping row of piglets. "I'm glad we got a Super Deluxe King size."

Norman smiled as the sound of crying got his ears. "Sounds like our other five want to come join the party." He laughed. "I'll go get them." He kissed her forehead and hurried away.

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Clay was confused to find himself in his lake house den, sitting in his large chair, his guitar in hand. "What was I doing?"

"What you like to do when you want to think or, rather, brood," a chuckle was heard from the sofa. Buster was sitting there with a smile. "Hey, Clay."

"Mr. Moon, I wasn't… expecting you. You're here to ask me to be part of your show, right?" He joked.

The koala laughed. "That is what we talked about here. No, that's not why I'm here. I know you're all going back to Redshore soon."

The lion looked at the burning fireplace. "Yes, we are. As much as we're dreading it."

He nodded. "I know but… I… this may sound strange but… I've had some ideas about how the show could go this time. Since our new composer is in no condition to help yet. And I had a special song for you. I… I wrote it… as a message to my family." He offered him a folder.

Clay opened the folder and read through the sheet music. "I suppose you want me to play it during my scene."

Buster smiled. "If you wouldn't mind too much. I think it's most appropriate for your voice. And the children can join in from this section." He flipped a few pages and pointed to a bar, where the word "choir" was written in bold on top of the staff lines.

The musician closed the folder. "If I can remember what you've shown me, I'll play it for them."

He chuckled. "You'll remember."

Clay nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Moon. I hope you are doing well, wherever you are."

"I'm doing very well. It's beautiful. All the time," he said. "My parents and I spend much of our time together. When I'm not busy working. And of course, I visit with Ruby regularly." He looked at the window. "I have to go. Thank you again for stepping up and taking care of them for me. And you won't remember this part but let me congratulate you in advance."

Clay frowned. "In advance? What do you mean? What do you have to congratulate me for?" He asked as his lake house began to fade. His memory slowly started to fog as he looked around at his bedroom and down at his wife. He looked over at his guitar. He had a song he needed to write down quickly.

AN: Okay, I had a request for Sitara to be visited by Buster. But I need to build up a reason for him to visit her so I've decided to go with a plot point I considered earlier but I'm going to hold off on bringing it to fruition. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please comment!