Frankie's Day

Frankie’s Day

by

P. A. Matthews

         Today the sun shone brightly for Frankie Vaughnstein, and he felt sure each ray shining through the canopy of trees lining his street spoke with the clarity only the sun’s revelation could provide, and it was only for him. Yes, it was going to be a wonderful day.

         Frankie walked the deserted streets, entranced with the dappled shade on the pavement, envisioning stories about each solid piece of shade being an island and the sun shining on the water between their shores. Visions of pirates lingered in his mind as he picked up a fallen branch and fought an invisible foe.

         “Hey, Frankie!”

         Frankie dropped the branch, shading his eyes while he scanned the street for the owner of the disembodied voice. His face lit up when he saw Dr. Porter waving from his porch, and began sauntering up the drive and plopped on the top step.

         “Hi Dr. Porter, isn’t it a great day?”

         Dr. Porter searched Frankie’s child-like face out of habit, and then smiled. “Sure is Frankie, one of the finest we’ve had in a long time.”

         “I think the sun is shining just for me today; I’m getting all kinds of ideas about what to do.”

         A shadow of concern crossed Dr. Porter’s face. “You are huh, like what?”

         Frankie shuffled his feet against the wooden step, unsure if he should share his new ideas. “Just stuff, you know, like walking to town and maybe going to the park for a while.” He looked to the street and watched the cars creep through the neighborhood, wondering what it would be like to own one. Maybe one day.

         "Frankie?”

         Frankie’s thoughts slowly drifted back to the porch. “Yeah?”

         Dr. Porter tapped his cane on the wood and pointed. “What do you have there?”

         Frankie beamed with pride when he held up his new find. “I got it at the antique store; Miss Janice told me it was a collector’s item, an honest to God, genuine Superman lunchbox. Miss Janice made it nice and shiny so I could take my lunch places; I’m going to eat in the park later after I go into town.”

         Dr. Porter thought of Janice and her small consignment shop, smiling at the idea of her saving a lunchbox for Frankie. “Well, you certainly picked a wonderful day for a picnic; I shouldn’t keep you from your fun.”

         “Okay.” Frankie rose from the step and was halfway down the walk when Dr. Porter called him back.

         “Frankie, I haven’t seen your mom for a while, how is she doing?”

         Frankie shuffled his feet as he spoke, his concentration on the sunny day making him anxious to leave Dr. Porter’s porch. “She’s okay, kinda tired, but I’m taking good care of her.”

         “That is good to know Frankie, I don’t mind coming over to check on her if she needs me.”

         “No, she’s fine, just tired, I’ll see you later.” Frankie sprinted down the walkway, waving goodbye as he resumed his stroll through the last few streets approaching the town. He squinted into the sun and smiled. Yeah, today was a perfect day.

         Frankie stared at his reflection while he looked into a storefront window, and when he moved, the plaid of his shirt seemed to undulate, altering his pleasant thoughts. He hated plaid shirts, and every time he donned one the patterns made him sick—and a little angry. Why did his mother insist on buying them? He had an entire closet filled with a solid row of plaid, yet she continually bought more. He looked like a geek in his clothing, and as Frankie continued to stare at his reflection, the shininess of his happy day began to slowly tarnish.

         Suddenly, Frankie remembered the one thing his mother hadn’t bought, and it lay below the plaid’s surface in the form of a Spiderman t-shirt. He ran his hands along the place on his chest he knew the character claimed his body like second skin. Looking up to the sun, he felt its penetrating rays release a new thought. This is your day Frankie, make the most of it.

         A tinkling brass bell sounded over the door as Frankie stepped through the portal into another world. Entering caused a momentary blindness as he progressed into the soft, cool shade of Miss Janice’s shop.

         A voice sounded from within the aisles. “May I help you?”

         Frankie turned down the aisle expecting to see Janice, instead finding her helper. “Miss Rose, where’s Miss Janice?”

         Rose finished dusting the remaining books before acknowledging him. “Janice wasn’t feeling well so she didn’t come in today, is there something I can help you find?”

         He didn’t like the feeling of not seeing Janice after walking all this way. “She promised she’d be here today, I was supposed to meet her.”

         “I’m sorry Frankie, but she’s sick. Why don’t you come back in a few days and perhaps she’ll be well.”

         The sun’s rays no longer made it inside the shop, leaving Frankie confused and growing angry.

         “Frankie?”

         “Huh?”

         “Is there something I can help you with?”

         Frankie touched his chest hoping to gain strength from Spiderman. He heard a message entering his head. Just be cool Frankie, don’t cause any problems, you can see Janice later. He let his hand slowly drop from his chest. “Um…alright…I’ll come back in a few days.”

         Rose smiled. “That’s great; I’ll leave Janice a note to let her know you were in. Take care Frankie.”

         He left his usually comfortable world and stepped into the glare of the sun, the blinding rays trapping his thoughts, branding them with fire.

☼ ☼ ☼

         Frankie arrived home as the beginning of dusk began dusting the earth with shadows. Entering the sanctuary of his house made him feel secure after his many adventures and the long day away from home.

         He walked through the house with the deliberate steps his mother had taught, not the silent tread of one who stalked, or that’s what his mother had said when he walked through the house with no sound and had frightened her. Frankie continued through the house until he found his mother and stood over her bed watching her peaceful face as she slept; luckily he hadn’t awakened her when he called her name.

         Sitting in the chair next to his mother’s bed, Frankie pulled the lunchbox onto his lap; just staring at the Superman figure made him feel as special as the day Miss Janice had given it to him. He lovingly stroked the cool metal before unlatching the lid to explore the inside for any remaining food.

         Frankie had been extra hungry today, yet saved a portion of his lunch to eat while he visited with his mother. Lifting out a half-empty bag of cheese puffs, he ate the remaining treat, his hands becoming sticky as he devoured the cheesy snack. Orange clumps clung defiantly to his dirty hands, each coated finger reminding him of the puffs he crunched.

         Wiping his fingers on his shirt, Frankie soon realized his mother would hate cleaning the orange stains. He stared at his fingers that now resembled rusted stubs, unable to understand what would make them that color, then looked inside his lunchbox and smiled as he remembered. Pulling the object out, Frankie proudly held it for his mother’s delight.

         “Mom, I thought about you all day and got you this surprise. Isn’t it great?”

         Frankie retrieved his mother’s sewing kit from beneath the bed and threaded her large upholstery needle with the glistening gold thread she saved for special projects. With all his necessary tools assembled, he began the arduous task of replacing his mother’s dead heart with the new one taken from his lunchbox.

         He worked diligently, sewing the heart into the dried chest cavity of his mother in an effort of reanimation from her final repose. He smiled as he studied his workmanship; this heart would do the trick, not like the other animal parts he’d used to alter her appearance after he’d killed her.

         “Mom, how do you like the new heart? I got it from Miss Janice, who is one of the nicest people I know; everyone always says she has the biggest and kindest heart. I hope this finally makes you happy.”

         Frankie turned and squinted at his reflection in the bedroom mirror—a thirty-year-old man finally stared back. His mother had always called him special, and then she’d shut him away for days when he spoke of his inner thoughts. Smiling broadly, Frankie realized he’d never hear her negative comments again.

         Walking along her bedside, he ran his hands over the soft blue blanket. “You know, if tomorrow is as great as today was, maybe I’ll find you some new eyes so you can see how pretty you are. Then you’ll be able to see how grown up I’ve become and that I really am a man now. Mom, this has been the best day ever.”

The End

Word count 1496