“Frank, be a dear and get rid of him, will you? And please do a better job than he did. Oh…and see what you can do about the blood. I do so dislike an untidy office.”
Walter headed home, stayed out of sight for a few minutes until the coast was clear, and then entered his apartment. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and went to his recliner. He took a sip of the beer, propped his feet up, and reached over to scratch Otis behind the ears. The dog whined in appreciation and leaned closer. After a few minutes, he noticed the eerie quiet of the apartment. Even if the kid was studying in the bedroom, he should have come out by now. This wasn’t like him.
“Hey kid, you studying?” Walter called out.
No answer.
Walter walked back to the bedroom, and the laptop was there on the bed, but Franklin was nowhere to be seen. It was then that Walter thought to check his phone. Sure enough, there was a text.
Hey. Had to get out for a bit. Already took Otis out and fed him. Be back by dinner time. F
‘Darn kids and their texting,’ Walter thought, ‘Wonder where he went.’
Then he remembered Franklin showing him how they could track each other's cell phones and he opened the app on his phone. It didn’t take long for him to see where he had gone. He went back to his chair, finished his beer, and then left. A minute later, he was over Spring Grove Cemetery. There was Franklin, sitting down on the grass in front of a headstone. He landed and approached on foot, sitting down next to Franklin and putting his arm around his shoulder. He looked at the inscription on the headstone.
Carla Isabella Jones
December 25, 1978-May 13, 2009
“How you doing, kid?”
Franklin sniffled and cleared his throat. “I miss her, Gramps.”
“Yeah…doesn’t get any easier.”
“I done a lot she wouldn’t be proud of.”
“You’re still young, kid. Got time to fix that.”
“You think?”
“Yeah. She’d already be proud of you.”
“For what?”
“The way you’ve helped me.”
“Dude…you done more for me than I’ve done for you.”
“I don’t know, kid. All that’s happened to me. You helped me sort it out. Couldn’t have done it without you. Your mom would be proud.”
“Man, I ain’t even finished school.”
“Sure, kid, you’ve messed up a bit. Who hasn’t? You can fix that, though. I know you can. You still got time to make her proud.”
“Yeah, but she ain’t around to see it.”
“Look, you can’t change that now, but you can live the way she’d want you to. That has to count for something, right?”
“I suppose so.”
“Let me show you something. It’s not far from here.”
They walked to another part of the cemetery, a walk that took them nearly ten minutes since Walter didn’t want to disturb the mood by flying. He stopped and knelt in front of another headstone, pointing it out to Franklin.
Marcy Anne Hicks
Beloved wife and mother
Resting in the arms of Christ
January 20, 1954-May 13, 2009
“Notice anything familiar, kid?”
“Uh…the…the same day?”
“Yep. Ten years ago. We both lost a good woman that day.”
“Man…she wasn’t much…much of a mother…not with the drugs and all…but…but—” He broke into sobs.
“It’s okay kid. Marcy wasn’t a perfect woman. Hell, nobody is, but she was my wife. I didn’t know your mom, but I’m sure she loved you. I don’t know why she ended up like she did, but she was your mom, and there’s nobody loves you like your mom. Be something wrong if you didn’t miss her.”
“Thanks, Pops.”
“I'm not your pops.”
“Closest thing I got to one right now.”
“You hungry?”
“A moment like this, and you’re thinking about food?”
“You know the calories I burn.”
“Well, I guess I could go for some food.”
“Good. They still got that all you can eat thing at IHOP?”
“I think so.”
“Well, hold on then. I’m buying.”
A minute later, they walked into the IHOP and were seated. The server arrived at the table shortly after and recognized Walter immediately.
“Hi…this is great…glad to see you in here. Do you need a moment to look over the menu?”
“I don’t think so. You still got the all you can eat pancakes?”
“If you order a meal.”
“If that’s the case, let the kid here order what he wants and I’ll take the pancakes.”
She took the order and went to the kitchen.
“Is that Walter?” the cook asked.
“Yes, Jeremy, in the flesh.”
“I’d best keep the pancakes coming. Last time he was in here, dude ate for over an hour.”
“He’s been in here before?”
“Yeah, it was before anyone knew him, but after I saw him on TV, I remembered. Came in here one night and just pigged out. Does he have a young guy with him, black kid?”
“Yeah, looks like a teenager.”
“Yep, that’s him. He’s gonna be here for a while.”
Thirty minutes later, Franklin had finished his meal and Walter was into his third plate of pancakes and showing no signs of slowing down.
“Hey, look here,” Franklin said, showing Walter his phone, “Says here I can schedule the test online. They got a slot tomorrow.”
“You think you’re ready?” Walter asked between bites.
“Yeah, I’ve been studying, and reading extra stuff that wasn’t on the website. I’m ready. Just wish mama…oh man.”
“She’ll be proud.” Walter handed him a tissue.
“You think she can see me?”
“Kid…I don’t know. I’m not a theologian. If she’s with the Lord…maybe he can let her know what you’re up to.”
“Maybe…she talked about Jesus…when she wasn’t…without the drugs.”
“Well, we can hope for the best. I know my Marcy’s there. Maybe she’s hanging out with your mom. Maybe they’re having a laugh seeing us.”
“Yeah…that would be cool.”
“Say, slide your plate over here. You want a couple pancakes?”
“Sure, you don’t have to twist my arm.”
“Well, what time is the test?”
Franklin hesitated a moment to swallow a bite. “9:00 in the morning.”
“You’d best get a good night’s sleep then.”
“What are you gonna do tonight?”
“Probably fly around and see what kind of trouble I can find.”
“Just go
