It was a fine, spring morning when Harriet met Franklin. She never knew, stepping out of her shack, that her life would change that very day. But it did change. That day held more change than a thousand Obama rallies. Morning and afternoon were as diverse as 1850 and 1929. It was almost as if she stepped in to another reality, she would reflect later. But she didn't know any of that yet. All she knew was that the sun was out and she wanted to walk in it.
As she strolled down the lane, she saw a shockingly handsome man in a wheelchair. He'll never go for me, she thought sadly. But he did. Oh, how he did.
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Franklin rolled his way down the street. As he turned a corner, he saw her. Her. His African queen. His Oprah Winfrey. His ebony skinned Aphrodite, complete with junk in the trunk. Mentally high fiving himself, Franklin rolled to where she stood.
" 'Sup?" He asked charmingly, squinting at her from under the brim of his baseball cap, which he wore to make him more down with the crowd.
"Oh." Breathed Harriet. "I would take you all over my Underground Railroad." She had never been a very subtle woman.
"Let me make you a deal." Said Franklin. "A... new deal."