No One Here Gets Out Alive
By: MusketeerAdventure
Summary: Franklin meets his future and finds his way home.
"I walk by her side and the darkness lifts from my soul. I walk with her and I hear the gentle beating of mighty wings." – Dream
"Franklin! Come on Franklin, what are you waiting for?"
Well, that got his attention … didn't it? What a question to ask in this moment. How was it that Mel was so perceptive? So, he turned away from her and faced his friend's obvious frustration – his hands held out waiting for him to do something; pay attention, hand over the ball … wake the hell up.
"We have a game to play, haven't we?" Mel called out again, his voice laced with sarcasm – hands now placed squarely on his hips. His other team mates looked perplexed, and rolled their eyes with great exaggeration as his apparent distraction sauntered by.
Shaking his head, Franklin shrugged his shoulders, gave a cheeky grin and peered down at the soccer ball trapped tightly in his grip … looking for answers to that very insightful question. Because, what he was waiting for, who he was waiting for had just crossed his path.
It was miraculous. It was like being struck by lightning, or being hit by a car … sudden, violent – electrifying. Without warning he was struck dumb. He must be in love. That must be it. How else could he explain the instant connection? Love at first sight … right?
Because even though he only saw her for the briefest of moments, even though his back was turned to her now, he could still picture her face, her walk. She was absolutely stunning. Her half smile … lovely; her brown eyes… penetrating.
It was as if he knew her … instantly.
There was something about her. The way she looked at him. She wanted to tell him something – he could tell. He prided himself on being able to read girls … no this was a woman.
Tossing the ball from one hand to another he laughed softly. It was a gift … he knew. His friends groaned loudly; apparently reading his mind… all in on his silent conversation.
"Please, tell me … What are you waiting for?" Mel called out again, this time with more of an edge to his voice – moving toward him. "If you're not going to play", he continued pointing in her direction, "then pass the ball."
"Of course I'm going to play", he answered back, feigning hurt feeling, and then lightly drop kicked the ball in a perfect arc to land at Mel's feet.
Looking back over his shoulder, Franklin took in a quick glance of his future and saw her engaged with the deceptively athletic stranger. He seemed quite pale, thin and sullen… all of which contradicted the quick reflexes he observed earlier. He looked miserable; beyond gloomy. Even the pigeons backed away from his offerings.
No competition at all, he thought and raced after Mel to catch up.
She could sense him staring and smiled with some satisfaction. It was nice to be flirted with, to be admired like this every now and then. It made her feel seen. It made her feel human … almost.
Making brief eye contact, she gave him a half smile, then turned away to counsel her sad sack of a brother. It seemed the pigeons were finding it hard to take what he was offering, and so was she.
So Franklin moved away toward his friends, giving her that disappointed look young men perfected when things don't go quite their way. He liked her, was interested … she could tell.
He was not very subtle, but that was okay. Franklin was a good kid … all of nineteen, loved life – his family and football. He was a sincere sort; always looking to do the right thing; wanted to take care of his mum and be a super star like the legendary Pele.
He had big plans – but time was growing short for Franklin.
Soon she would take his hand, and lead him on a journey to the Sunless Lands with the hope that there he would find peace.
With half her attention on Dream and the other on Franklin she almost missed the "Heads Up!" warning … almost. Instead she caught the ball as deftly as her brother with a one handed flourish before it beaned the back of her head.
As predicted…Franklin was not subtle.
And as he raced to her side – apologetic, sweet and complimentary – she turned on the charm and promised to see him again.
Surprised, she felt her cheeks blush hot at his hesitancy, the awkward ask to see her again … could he get her number. When he reached for his phone it was her opportunity to leave swiftly; quietly – so as not to witness any bewilderment, confusion or hurt feelings on his part. She needed to concentrate and stay focused. Dream needed her help. Others were waiting to begin their journey.
In this moment, there was work to be done and a brother to set straight.
She would see Franklin soon enough.
He was running hard; laser focused on tracking the ball that sailed over his head. His feet pounded on grass, on sidewalk on pavement. Tires screeched, someone screamed; his heart climbed up into his throat and when he took his eyes off the ball to see what all the commotion was about the red range rover was right in his path – plowing straight toward him.
And then he was standing in the field, ball in hand with people racing by him; his friends frantic … tears in their eyes.
What was all this he wondered, and moved to go see for himself why everyone was running toward the street. In the distance he heard sirens wail over this chaos.
But she was standing next to him … lovely, smiling, hand on his arm. So he chose instead to stay by her side. "Did you see that", he asked her. "I almost got hit by a car!" – forgetting his interest in all the ruckus going on around them.
When she tilted her head back to look up at him, Franklin found that he was utterly, and totally lost. Lost within her hypnotic gaze; her very aura. Truly in her presence, he could not seem to function. "Come with me Franklin", she soothed and took his hand. "I need to show you something."
"Okay", he answered – bemused by his own befuddlement. He could not resist her; and knew he would follow her anywhere – to the end of the world and back, out of the park – along the side walk; to the street where he lived. Wherever she went, he would follow.
And follow he did – a long and winding journey, made all the more pleasant by her just being there – her nearness … her bearing. She liked him… she must, because he loved her. And when he got up the courage he would tell her so.
Suddenly, they came to a standstill and she let go of his arm. A chill ran up his spine. The street came into focus and there stood his home at the center of the court.
On the porch sat an elderly woman who looked familiar … but he wasn't sure. In the yard were lots of people milling about with a barbeque going strong. He could smell the hamburgers and his stomached grumbled.
"Who are all these people?", he wondered aloud – puzzled by the gathering as they all took notice of him, then pointed in his direction; waving, laughing, happy to see him. Their smiles were welcoming. It made him nervous.
"These people are your family" she explained.
Franklin studied their faces. Some of them did look familiar but ….
Then, almost in slow motion, the woman on the porch stood up and covered her mouth to keep from crying out. Tears pooled in her eyes. He could hear her gasping for air from the sidewalk. Her astonishment overwhelmed him.
"That's your mother", she informed him, in a matter of fact way.
"My mother?" He stepped back in disbelief. "But, she's too old to be my mother. Her hair is gray, there are wrinkles around her eyes – her hands are shaking. My mother can jog with me to the park."
"She has been waiting a long time for you to come home Franklin. You've been on quite a journey. It took us awhile to get here; as I have enjoyed so much walking with you. But she knew you'd come eventually."
Franklin turned, looked back up the street and could just make out an ambulance speeding away – the park now empty of laughing children, joggers, kite flyers and devastation.
Staring up to the sky to hide his confusion, he saw blackness that did not obscure the sun.
There, on the porch his mother shouted, "Franklin, come home" and held out her hand … waiting.
"Where are we?" , he wanted to know, as a sense of panic began to take hold. Reaching out she held onto his hands, rubbed his knuckles and pronounced solemnly, "The Sunless Lands of the Afterlife."
And when he began to gasp and wheeze for air – to the point where he might pass out, she cooed softly, "Everything is alright Franklin. Deep breaths. You are home."
After some time, when he could breathe freely, and comprehend – he saw joy on his mother's face as his family beckoned for him to join them. "Come in and rest", his mother cried out. "You must be tired."
Reluctantly his shoulders sagged. Yes, he did feel tired. She was right … it had been a long walk from there to here. He was ready to rest.
But before leaving her side, he just had to know; to understand. "You know everything about me, and I nothing of you. What is your name? Will I ever see you again?" …. And silently confessed, "I love you".
Eyes gone soft, she rose up on tip toes, held onto his shoulders then kissed his cheek. "I am known by many names." And just like that she was gone – abruptly vanished amid a gentle beating of wings. She was lost to him, gone for good … perhaps up into the darkness.
Gently, a delicate breeze caressed his brow, and all questions, concerns or worries were forgotten. The journey to get here was over. Now it was time to begin again.
Franklin raced the final few feet home and fell into his mother's embrace.
Thank you for reading. Please leave a comment to let me know what you think.
"No one here gets out alive." – Jim Morrison