"Did you recognize the voice at all, Frankie," asked Leslie.
"Sort of, but not really. I don't know. I'm tired, Les. I just want to go home and go to bed."
"Frankie, you stay here tonight. You can sleep in Les, uh, Marion's old room, eh? Besides, I don't wanna be here by myself, tonight."
"I'll sleep on the couch," offered Leslie.
Then he shot a look at Frankie. "Not because I need to protect you, okay? I'm a little shook up myself. Mostly from seeing Ma in her night time ablutions. But still, Yoda freaks me out."
"Thanks. I think I will stay the night," yawned Frankie.
"Praise the Lord and lock the door. Let's all go to bed."
Although Frankie had been in in Leslie's room a thousand times before, this was the first time she had crawled into his bed. She laughed as she spotted the poster on the ceiling. Megan Fox, replaces, Farrah Fawcett, replaces, Betty Grable... Some things never change, like little boys and grown men.
Frankie and Princess Leia
"Men can be such bastards, Frankie. Hans could never deal my my independent streak."
"Is it a sign about my future?"
"What, the Yoda?" laughed Leia. "Hardly. It's about the man, the flopping eared, walking man. This chamomile tea sucks. Do you have any schnapps?"
"I only have tea in a mugsy."
"Ah hell. Beam me up, Scotty."
"That's the wrong movie plot."
"Who's Megan Fox, anyway?"
Molly knew what she was doing was wrong, but she had no one to tell her what the right thing was, either. She saw the helicopter take off and as if she was going outside her own body, she saw herself take the 'sample' from the office and hide it amongst the volunteer's own quarters, placing in deep into the freezer, marking it, 'turkey gizzards.'
December 25, 1969
She waited for hours in her '64 Rambler, and stamped her frozen feet. The storm was getting worse, but she was determined to make the wrong, a right. Molly waited, hoping Sean would come, so that she could relieve herself of this burden and guilt.
December 25, 1969
He didn't see the object in time. Blowing snow obscured the bundle on the tracks.
"Dammit! yelled the conductor, as he slammed on the brakes and pulled the warning whistle.
They buried the John Doe in Potter's Field. No one had come for the young man.
In a house with coppery gargoyles, a nurse wiped away a tear from Sarah's cheek.
"Molly, if something happens to me, tell Sean I love him. I also need you to be very brave and do something for me. I can't explain all, I'm not sure myself, but this place is not what it pretends to be. There are experiments going on, things that are unimaginable. If anything happens to me, I need you to get to Dr. Marone's office and...."
Sarah and Molly talked through the night, holding hands, as Sarah narrated what she had discovered.
"Promise me, Molly."
"Yes. For you I will promise."
Frankie's mouth watered as she smelled bacon. She felt guilty for the way her mouth drooled for piggy flesh. It took a moment to realize where she was, then saw Megan, smiling down at her, and she rolled her eyes. She looked around Les' old room. Mrs. K. had not moved one item left behind by her only child. An old mac pro computer sat on the desk, one broken I-pod, a high school jacket and photos of Les with Frankie at the DQ, drive-in, concerts, swinging on a tire. Their whole friendship memorialized with pictures.
Now, she had better get up and go clean out doo-doo.
Frankie never really paid much attention to the customers in the shop. She was too busy trying to keep the store from smelly odors. Today, however, she studied each person as the bell chimed their entrance. During the morning hours, moms with toddlers perused the aisles, usually stopping by the bunny hutch and doggy den. Around noon, it was the working masses stopping by on their lunch break to grab kibble or catnip for their beloved. In late afternoon, the kids getting out of school stopped by, the high school boys lingering by the snake and iguana tanks.
It was just before closing time when Frankie noticed something odd. it wasn't the old man with the flopping ear, but something was familiar about him, and most definitely off about him. he had the worst hairpiece Frankie had ever see, (even worse than the Donald's) He was bent over and seemed to have difficulty using his walker. Before he even got to the counter, he had slammed the walker down on his feet several times. His teeth were yellow as he grimaced and swore out, "Frickety-frack!" after each stomp.
Frankie watched as he whispered in Mr. Crock's ear. They both looked into the shop as if looking for a spy.
"Frankie!" Frankie nearly fell into Arnold's cage as Mr. Crock and the odd man turned to whisper again.
"Frankie, can you bring a bag of cat litter up front, please? The god stuff, darlin'. Frankie used to get all, 'Gloria Steinam' when Mr. Crock called her, darlin', until she realized he called everyone darlin'. Even the boys who came in to drool over Iggy, the iguana, who was, NFS. (not for sale)
She carried the bag to the front and stood as close as she could get to the odd man.
"Let me carry this to your car, sir," said Frankie. The man tried to back up but was stopped by the metal legs on his feet.
"I'll take it out, darlin'. Can you check the water temps on the fish tanks for me?"
"Sure," said Frankie as she stood between the two men. They all looked down at the metal legs still sitting on top of the man's blow-up high tops.
"No, no. I've got it darlin'," squawked Mr. Crock as he grabbed the bag of litter and tried to turn the odd man toward the door. Frankie watched them exit the shop and wasn't sure whether to laugh or turn away as the odd man's high top blow up shoe farted as he once again stepped on his foot.
Odd. Very odd, indeed.