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Foster's World	By : Wendell Urth Category: +1 through F > Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends Views: 4137 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends and all associated characters belong to their respective creators and owners, not me. I receive no compensation whatsoever for this story.

Chapter List
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The old woman addressed the young police officer, demanding any news of her missing granddaughter. The officer was confused, wasn’t it a missing niece? Were there two missing women? “Oh, snakes’ alive boy, I’m talking about Frankie, Frankie! You know, Frances Foster?”
“So, there are two missing women?” he insisted now.
Madame Foster closed her eyes in frustration, “What was this idiot talking about?” she thought. She pinched the bridge of her nose. Sighed.
And quietly died.
“It’s strange being dead!” the old woman said moments or eons later. She was standing on a cliff, looking over a river valley far below. There was something different about her vision. She could clearly see further than she ever had before. There was her granddaughter, “Naked as a jaybird and twice as cute,” she thought. Well, the Madame had some of her own fond experiences with nude beaches in her youth… and later too. She cackled. But there was more. Somehow Frankie was giving off an aura of health & vitality. Literally, she could see ‘good health’ surrounding the otherwise naked girl.
“That girl needs a boyfriend! A good hard shag would do wonders for her!” She cackled again. She may be dead, but she was still entitled to her opinions.
Further away, on a small island she could see Mac. Waves of sickness and pain seemed to radiate from the boy, clothed only in his underwear. Madam Foster “Tsked!” She called out, though far away. “Frankie! FRANKIE! Girl, look over there, he’s over there! On the island!” Somehow, in spite of the distance the girl seemed to hear her. At least she was looking in the right direction now.
“These kids will be the death of me.” The old dead woman said and turned around to face the figure she knew had been there all along.
Peering into a space she couldn’t quite see, a figure she couldn’t quite perceive, she said, “I suppose you’re Death? Got me at last, did you? What took you so long?” Then, “Well, it was a long chase so you’ll excuse me if I don’t congratulate you. Is there someplace I can sit down? Least you could do for an old lady.”
It wasn’t like a voice. There weren’t telepathic words forming in her mind like she saw in the movies that Frankie & Mac loved so much. She simply knew in her heart what this Being wanted her to know.
“I’m not Death, dear one. He’ll be along for you in a few minutes. But in the meantime, I have a favor to ask. And… would you like a cup of tea?
The Madame looked around. There was a small gazebo now on the outcropping, a beautiful Chinese tea setting for one was waiting. The old woman hobbled over. Truthfully, she could have run. Being dead had put new life into her step. But still, she was tired.
I know you are tired and troubled and you need to rest. Your passing was not easy, losing so many of those you loved. But as you can see, two of them are here and are loved by Me. And…
Madame Foster was impatient. Even with this ‘Goddess’ or whatever it was, she needed to speak her mind. “Look… ah… whatever your name is… the boy is sick and needs help. Can we take care of him first? And why is my granddaughter naked? (Although she looks mighty cute, all pink and red like that! If I was 50 years younger… and alive…)” Then, “And what about the others, Mr. Harriman, Bloo, all the Imaginaries? Where are they? Please…”
“Do you like the tea, dear?” came the words in her heart. “The boy and the girl are loved by Me and will be cared for. The Imaginaries are gone for now, they have returned to where their spirits came from and in time will return in new form. This is the way of all things of the flesh and spirit. But you knew that, didn’t you?”
Madame Foster sipped her tea. “I hoped so. In my heart I knew that Imaginaries were people. Just a little different.” Then, “You said you had a favor to ask? What could I do for something as powerful as you?” Madame Foster was on the verge of tears. She was so tired now. So tired.
“I need to take a form when with my people. I won’t be a bodiless spirit, invisible and unseen among them. When they need me, I must be there for them. Will you lend me your form, so that I can walk among them?”
Madam Foster laughed and laughed, tears spilling down her wrinkled cheeks. “You’ll scare the bejesus out of them! Hobbling about… waving my cane at them. You can’t be serious!” Then, “And why do you need my permission? I bet you can appear as anything you want, including the last Christmas turkey, if it suits you.”
“Dearest, I will not be as I am now nor will you be as you are. I will take the smallest part of your spirit & flesh before you go to your rest and make it mine. I could take it… or copy it… but that wouldn’t be what my children… our children, will need in the generations to come. And it wouldn’t be polite to just take from you without asking.”
“Well, I’m always in favor of being polite… when it doesn't cost me anything. Let’s get this show on the road. Tea’s done, let’s get with the hocus pocus.”
Then Death came for the old woman. Death was slightly miffed, he didn’t like being put off from his rounds, not even for a Goddess. He eyed her suspiciously. The old woman’s spirit wasn’t fully intact. “More damned paperwork!” he groused.
Rapping her cane against his head, the old dead woman said, “Let’s get going, Buster. I don’t have all day to sit here drinking tea listening to you complaining about your job. (And thanks for the lovely tea, hon).” Death gave her a dirty look and swept her off to whatever was waiting for her.
The Goddess cackled. Her first laugh in… forever!
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