Franky Is Lucky

We pulled into the parking lot of a run down brick building. The orange neon sign said “Morelli’s.” This must be an Italian place. Either it was the only deserted restaurant in town or Amy liked Italian food. Then again she had to like Italian food to know it was deserted.

We got out of the car and walked into the restaurant. I saw Amy nod to the hostess and walk towards one of the back booths and sit. She definitely has been here before, so she did like Italian food. I really was in awe at this moment of how much I was learning in such a short span of time. Was it like this for most people?

I sat across from her and clasped my hands on the table. She slid the menu away from herself, apparently she was either not hungry or already knew what she was going to order. I glanced at the menu and saw that they had pasta fagioli which had always been one of my favorites and placed it down. I wasn’t really hungry but since I was paying I might as well order. The waitress came over to take our drink order. Amy ordered an espresso and I ordered an ice tea. The waitress asked if we needed more time and of course we did not so we both ordered. Amy got the fettuccine with no meat and I ordered my pasta fagioli. As the waitress walked away I looked at Amy.

“So you going to explain to me one, how you found me and two, what you mean by Brent has something to tell me.”

She looked at me with a condescending smile and she said “Sure soon as the waitress over there brings our drinks and food. We don’t want anyone eaves dropping because this is juicy stuff.”

I scowled at her. I guess I had to sit in torture for a few minutes.

After what seemed like an eternity, which retrospectively was probably about ten minutes, the waitress came back with our food and drinks. She asked if we needed anything else and Amy said “No I think we are fine.”

Amy picked up her fork and spoon, she scooped the pasta onto her fork and rolled it against the spoon, just like my mother had always told me to do. After a few bites she must have noticed I was impatient so she rolled her eyes, set her utensils down and let out a sigh.

“Fine if you insist on being cranky. I googled your name. That’s how I found you. You know Felicite Onni is not a common name.”

My mouth dropped open. I stammered for a second.

“I never told you my real first name was Felicite!”

Amy chewed for a second and while rolling the next bite she said, “Yea, I know, but I figured that your first name had to start with an F considering your nickname and I found a Felicite Onni here in town and also the house was in an upscale area. Then, after I knocked on your door and saw Brent there I for sure knew it was you.”

“You are smarter than you give yourself credit for. I thought I had made myself unlisted too.” This was food for thought.

“Apparently, google does not care about such things.” She said with a shrug and took another bite. I do not think she realized how unnerving that was.

“Well, then what does Brent have to tell me?”

“Can I finish eating first? You should probably eat too this could take a while to explain?” She nodded her head towards my food then continued eating.

I looked down at my bowl. I really was not hungry. I would take it home though. I did love pasta fagioli.

It took Amy about ten minutes to finish eating. In the mean time, I remained silent which was more difficult than it should have been. After all I really did not talk to people often so I should be used to it. When Amy had finished she put her utensils down both facing towards her right hand took her napkin from her lap and placed it on the table. She then nodded towards the waitress as if to acknowledge that we had to wait a few more minutes for her to come clear our plates away before we could start talking. The waitress who’s name tag said “Joy” came and scooped up Amy’s plate I told her I would like a to-go cup and she said she would box my food for me. She returned in a few short minutes with my food set to go asked again if we needed anything. When Amy said no she placed the check on the table. Amy said that we would be sitting and talking for a little while but that she would tip handsomely for the inconvenience. Which meant I would tip handsomely, in normal circumstances I would not mind because I tip well anyway, but it irked me a tad that Amy felt entitled to spend my money. What she had to tell me must be good.

As soon as the waitress walked away. Amy clasped her hands on the table and looked at me with her doe like brown eyes. I straightened my sitting position and motioned my hand in a circular fashion as telling her to spill it. She started promptly.

“First of all this is all coming from him so sorry if I get sidetracked or ask him questions aloud I do it out of habit. Sometimes that can confuse people.”
I looked at her and raised one eye brow to say that I got it and to get to the point.

“Well, anyway, I am going to repeat what he is saying word for word. If this bothers you or you feel uncomfortable let me know. I can stop.”

I nodded and gave a sign letting her know I did not like her therapist routine. She nodded and then started talking.

“Franky, I have been wanting to talk to you for a while now. I am sorry you are upset at the moment because what I have to tell you is not something you probably want to hear. First, I want you to know that no matter what I tell you, I have always thought nothing but the best of you and I do not blame you for what happened to me, and I am no longer angry.”

I felt the familiar sensation of grief and remorse all at once. I could not believe he had forgiven me. Maybe Amy threw that in there on her own. I still do not know for sure. She continued even though I looked down at the table and not at her.

“The car accident was not your fault.”

I looked up at that. Of course it was my fault how could he say that? However, when I opened my mouth to try and protest my voice caught in my throat and I could not get the words out.

“No, really Franks, it was not your fault. Even knowing what you are and what happens when you are around people I know it was not your fault. The car was rigged to explode and catch on fire.”

I felt my mouth fall open, after a brief second I croaked “What? And how is that not my fault?”

Amy continued as Brent “I was never meant to survive the explosion but something went wrong apparently the rigging was not done right and instead of the car exploding it just caught on fire. That is why I was burnt so bad. I came to in the hospital a few days later and found out about the burns and saw the news. I was mad at first and shocked, all the reporters kept saying that the car had overheated and then caught on fire but I took care of that car and I knew that couldn’t have been the cause of the fire. That night after visiting hours two men in black suits came to visit me. They talked to me about the accident. Thinking that they were police or FBI or something I told them my thoughts about what had happened. As I talked to them they kept glancing at each other with that secret agent look, the ‘he knows too much look.’ After I finished they told me that they would pay all my medical bills and pay me five million dollars to not tell anyone what I had told them. I took the deal, I figured I could get plastic surgery with the money to fix my face and still have some left over to go to school. I did not realize that this had to be huge to be worth that much money.”

I finally pulled my mouth closed. What the hell was Amy/Brent telling me? Was he implying that his accident was a conspiracy? What was this about? She/he ignored my puzzled face and kept talking.

“I was forced to sign a contract agreeing to the terms but I did not read the fine print. After all, no one had ever made me sign a secrecy contract before. When my mom found out about the money I had been hiding and that the doctors bills were not paid by an anonymous and sympathetic donor, she demanded that I tell her the truth. I broke down and told her about the men in suits and the money but I refused to tell her why they had paid me in the first place. She was so angry and afraid but I could not tell her why they had paid me off. I thought that was the only secret part of the contract. Apparently, I was wrong. That night when everyone was asleep, I awoke to a man standing over my bed in a black suit and tie he made me march down to the bathroom and strip down he made me get in the tub and then he made me drink a glass of what I thought was water. Later I found out it was ketamine. After the drugs in the glass kicked in I lost consciousness and died. He then proceeded to make my murder look like a suicide. He left the suicide note on the bathroom counter, the one that said I could not get over my accident and face. And left my house. After I died I could not move on. And so I eventually found you and realized what you were. I also saw what my death had done to you. How much sorrow, regret and guilt you felt over me. And I have seen how it has made you give up your life. You have no idea all the things I have done to try and tell you this. You have no idea how much this is not your fault. I will admit I was angry but I have gotten over that. I have tried so hard to tell you this for such a long time. It was never your fault Franky, it was never something you did. I forgive you now. I am sorry for what has happened. It was never you.”

Amy/Brent reached out and patted my hand and then Amy fell silent and when I snapped back to reality, I realized that tears were streaming down my face. I had never known that life could be so ironic till this moment. Ironic because the boy I had inadvertently had a hand in murdering had no idea that what he was saying still confirmed everything I ever believed about myself. Ironic because he should not be forgiving me. Ironic because I finally realized that even after all these years the hurt would never go away.

Then the questions started buzzing around my head. Why would someone want to kill Brent? Who would have the money to pay him off? How would they know that he breached his contract? What, Who, When, How? I didn't get it. And then I looked at Amy and she looked back sympathetically. She started speaking. I was so confused I did not register her words at first and missed the first part of what she said.

"I'm sorry I wasn't listening can you repeat that?"

"Franky are you okay? We can stop if you aren't but there is more he wants to say."

I looked down at my hands that were clasped so tightly together that my knuckles were white. I took a breath put my hands in my lap so that Amy and Brent wouldn't see them shaking and I looked up. My voice came out as a gravely whisper. "Yea I'm okay. Finish what you have to say."

Amy looked unsure, she started but faltered, and then I gave her a weary look I was trying to let her know I wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. She finally started again.

"Franky, I need to ask you a favor.... What you can not expect her to do that!" The sudden outburst and change in Amy's demeanor snapped me back into a more conscious state. Expect me to do what? I must have looked really stunned but Amy kept talking to Brent I could tell because she was looking over my shoulder.

"I refuse to tell her that. She has had enough for today look at her face! You are the biggest idiot slash jerk slash asshole that I have ever met and I will not be your medium anymore."

I really hated this one sided conversation, especially when it was about me and when I had no idea what was going on.

I turned my sights on Amy and said "Amy you can't not tell me, he has obviously waited five years to ask me. And I am a grown ass woman I will decide what I need to hear and what I don't. Besides I can always say no."

"But you won't say no Franky. Trust me he shouldn't even be asking you." That last part she said while looking towards the empty seat next to me.

"Amy!?" I pleaded and exclaimed at the same time. I was really wishing that I was a medium at this point or, at the very least, telepathic so that I could gleam from her mind what I desperately needed to know. She looked at me. Her mouth pouty and her eyes full of frustration. She really was not used to losing. She muttered under her breath to Brent "I will figure out a way to make you pay for this." and then she turned to me and spoke her dark eyes boring into mine.

"He wants to know if you will, both, find out who did this and then make them pay. He reasons that it wouldn't be hard for you to do because you are intelligent and also because of what you are."

My jaw was really starting to feel fatigued from dropping open so much. Amy had been right I really did not want to do this but I knew I had too. I knew that I had to at least try and make amends for what I had taken from Brent. I had to pay for the life I had, that he did not.

But then I started thinking rationally. It would be easy to just walk up to the people involved and stand around them for a while and curse them but that would entail me putting other people in danger, innocent people. Also, how in the hell was I supposed to find the perps in the first place? It had been five years. There was no way that there were any clues left, and if these people were as efficient as they seemed, and that was pretty efficient, well then they would have cleaned up their mess in the first place. I sat up right then as that last thought trickled through my head. I turned to my right to face the empty part of the booth that Amy had been talking to, the place where Brent was supposed to be. And I looked for a second not believing what I was about to do and I said "No Brent."

And then I turned to Amy, the look on her face could only be explained as shock mixed with pure triumph. I looked at her sternly letting her know to wipe the expression off her face and that I wasn't happy that I had to say no. She smiled at me then said in a very smug and condescending voice, "He is not happy about that and I will not repeat what he is saying. He is asking why though."

I turned back towards where Brent was supposed to be and sighed. I had to do this, "Listen Brent, I have to live with this guilt and even though it eats me alive everyday, and even though it is life altering, I can not make others suffer because of me. If I find who did this to you what do I do then? Force everyone around them to suffer? Even going outside to find these people puts innocent lives in danger. I can not do that. I am sorry if you don't understand, but I know all too well the repercussions of what I am and I will not force that on anyone without their knowing. I am sorry Brent. I really am."

Again, I turned towards Amy to get his reply. She looked really gratified. Nothing like a heart wrenching denial to make you smile, right?

Amy said with a smile "He is not happy."

I figured as much. I grabbed my bag and got up from the table. I handed the waitress a fifty on my way out and walked out the front door of the restaurant. Amy came after me close on my heels. I went over to the passengers door my hand on the door handle waiting for her to unlock the car. I heard the locks click and I stepped in. She got in and started the car. She pulled out on to the street and headed towards my house. We drove silently all the way and when we pulled into the driveway I turned to her and said "Go straight home Amy, and email me when you do. Make sure you drive safely and don't come by my house without asking again. You hear me?" She nodded and I got out of the car bounded across the front yard, unlocked the door went inside and heaved the door shut behind me. As I locked the deadbolt, tears streamed down my face.