Nightmare Series 9

Nightmare Series Returns

"This was written with my favorite blogger Andrew Chow in mind. Andrew, I hope you comment and fill in the blanks. Many may not know the history of this particular individual! Please note that the poem in the story was written by me."

(If you are interested in further reading, check out "Franklin and Son, a Little Revenge.)

A dusty road, a sunny day, a remote location in Philadelphia. Trees lined the pathway and an occasional mouse scampered across the dusty channel. The man sat against the side of the road against the trees starring at the sunset. He was dressed, mid 1700's with a rather hot and sweaty suit of wool. He had a proud but stoic expression on his tired face.

“Now who might you be my fine young man?”

Fine young man seemed to be the last thing that Tim Wakefield felt as he sat down next to him.

“Where...is this place?”

The man smirked and said, “as far away from a certain someone as I can manage.”

The man reached out his hand and said, “Franklin...and you?”
Tim paused feeling a euphoria flow over him but where were the glasses and the bald head?

“I knew it!...I don't even look like the old windbag and automatically...”

The stranger named Franklin got up and screamed at the sky.

The fat ass from Phili,

Oh how do they see him so silly,

But when you question the hack,

Watch out for the knife in your back,

For you may find yourself up against a stack,

A stack you say...what might you mean,

I mean a stack of betrayal and a stack of lies and a stack of corruption,

But all you will see when the knife goes in,

Is the fine example of the women following him like cockroaches around at the inn!

The man bowed to Tim and said, “let's get the first name. It will make more sense. William Franklin my good man, better known as the bad footnote in history!”

Tim nodded unsure of how to react.

William laughed and said, “of course you don't know me! You think Franklin, you think the great printer, scientist and inventor, 'horny diplomat' and of course most of all sadistic pig...and you !”

Tim nodded and looked around trying to find a way out of this mess.

“Never mind. It's your nightmare Tim Wakefield and before you run off, let me add that I do enjoy your team spirit! I envy you. While ignored you are by the parade of mindless drones known as reporters, you have earned the highest respect from your teammates. Surely the greatest honor of all.”

“Ah...”

“Don't mind me my young fellow...I've been dead a great deal of time and I bear no bitterness, or vice against you. I am only all too glad to find a fellow to talk too. Tories are not too popular in this part of time. We're the devils against the wind of patriotic freedom loving Americans...or whatever propaganda you can generate against us...of course men like Sam Adams, the Sons of Liberty friend...oh you know the tar and feather terrorist group of America cannot be seen as nothing less than loving Americans! No of course not! That would smear the Thomas Jefferson reality that everybody wants to cling too!”

William then paused and screamed at the sky saying , “you'd think by now we'd learn to live and let live!”

William then turned towards Tim.

“I wished to join the British cause. I felt no need for a revolution...and ever since then my father let me rot in my own choices. The last time I saw him was when he took...”

Tears welted on his face.

“He took my son Temple away from me...promising to educate him in America. He never even said goodbye.”

Tim leaned in and said, 'why'd you let him go?”

“I had too. I was nothing but a drunk. I was broke. I sold everything to my father just to educate my son. To watch the docks the next morning and not see my son...because my father took off without letting me say goodbye to him...sealed forever the welt between us. I died that day. “

William sat down against the road.

“I'm no saint...but did you know I am the one who proved that lightening bolts travel from the ground up. My father of course took credit for the situation. Nobody will listen to the bastard son of Benjamin Franklin...the smear on his candle opera!”

Tim nodded and said, “well...glad you're taking all of this in stride.”

William leaned in and laughed and Tim joined with him.

“Oh I do like you Tim. You say little but can call up a great punchline.

“What do you do now?” asked Tim.

“Now...I spend no time with Temple. My...father has corrupted him, smearing my name. My first wife wants nothing to do with my bitterness and my second wife whom I married when I left for England...but I never loved her. My small insipid charm I cast on her didn't last the alcohol.”

William got up.

“I walk...I explore and I wonder what eternity will offer me that life has not!”

Tim nodded.
“Let it go William. I mean...whatever he did to you...you have the rest of eternity. Maybe he was poison...but it's a new world out there...right?”

William nodded.

“I used to travel with my father. Before I decided on politics, I traveled with him to England as he begged for political office and political power. He always considered his own interests of greatest importance. When England...after ten years failed to give him what he wanted...well now he became a so called American patriot! Certainly the causes of Benjamin Franklin are worthy of a revolution alone! “

William paused and became more subdued.

“His image was everything. He had something Mr. Adams did not have – charisma. He would have done so well in your time Tim. Oh Barbra Walters would have had him as a lover and a regular on the talk show circuit!”

Tim shrugged and walked along the road starring at the birds aggressively moving from tree to tree.

“I've always been a team player. It's just who I am. I trust others...maybe you can do the same.”

William sighed and said, “but who must I seek to trust. I am a forgotten leaf, trampled and scattered among the foliage. I live alone my old friend. Your companionship is greatly appreciated. Perhaps...you can keep my memory alive even though, despite my efforts, I did nothing to savor appreciation nor fame. I am forgotten.”

Tim sighed and said, “and you also do a pretty good job of feeling sorry for yourself as well!”

William chuckled and said, “perhaps you are right my friend..but let me ask you this...”

William paused and starred at his feet.

“How does one get away from history's past?”

Tim nodded and said, “well...for me you think about the next game...but I can see where that's a problem in your case. “

William chucked.

“Enjoy your life Mr. Wakefield. Wear the pride of the life you have lead and will lead in the years to come. Seek no history...for history has already found you. As for me... “

William wrapped his hands together.

“I am grateful that for all the dreams you could have chosen, that you have chosen myself to meet. I am honored.”

Tim nodded in compliance.

“Hey...I brought a lunch...if you're interested.”

William chuckled and said, “interested...I would be most delighted Mr. Wakefield...you have, if you'll forgive the humor, woken the dead!”

Tim smiled and said, “come on...I have a game tonight...and thank you. I like helping people...that's who I am.”

“Tim, snapped William. “I will add I've given up drinking...of course being dead makes it so much easier!”

Tim laughed and wrapped his hand around William's shoulder.

“Oh if only my father would have understood my decision. I wanted to make him proud of me. I was desperate for that...but when the American's captured me and locked me up, my wife died of heartbreak. My father had other things on his mind. How I wept that day!”

Tim patted him on the back and said, “ya but don't worry. Nobody will ever know the bad side of your father! That's of course your most important goal!”

William chuckled and said, “oh you do walk on sacred hate my friend but you do make me laugh. I am grateful for that!”

As they walked off towards an open field and lunch William bore a glow on his face not seen for centuries. Tim on the other hand felt relaxed ready for the game tonight.

“Wha???”

“You oversleep again?”

Tim nodded as he saw Terry Francona starring at him.

“Every single game you pitch, you oversleep.”

Tim smiled and said, “hey...things I need to do.”

“In your sleep?”

Tim nodded and said, “this time it was William Franklin!”

“William who?”

Tim shrugged and said, “but the next game will be ...well...I'll let you know. I like visiting people nobody ever heard of!”

Terry looked perplexed until Tim said, “look Tito. I'll never get headlines and I'll never be noticed but when I dream like that it reminds me that's who I am. I'm not about the spotlight...I'm about the team.”

Terry nodded and said, “you realized that makes no sense.”

Tim laughed and said, “what can I say Tito...you had to be there!”

Tito smiled and patted Tim on the back. “you're all right Tim.”

Tim smiled and got up. It would be another game!