My Name is Franklin, Pt. 3

It wasn’t marked in any way, simply left here. It was fairly big but light. Jay was just staring at it, I can see him now, just stood there, looking at this thing. I think he knew, or at least, on some primal level, he knew this was a mistake.

Never the less we opened it. Within the trunk was simply a collection of papers, newspaper clippings, tapes, files and folders full of more papers.  We didn’t read anything, though looking back, if we had we probably would have continued just as we did, as we heard a noise. Now depending on who you are, you may consider two hardened explorers hearing a noise and fleeing as either pathetic or completely understandable. To the former I ask you to read over what I have wrote already and consider what you would have done, given a chance to flee from that place.

I think I am justified in blaming most of what happened on Jay. I was half way across the floor when he stopped and asked me to help him with the trunk. I do not know why I listened to him or why I helped him. At the time I suppose I still just thought it was a kind of joke. Maybe the company just named their files these names as a security measure, alas, within a couple minutes, the trunk was in the car and we were driving home, laughing as we went. I often wonder why we laughed now. I think we were just both pretending we weren’t terrified or something. I don’t know. My memory of what happened after is a bit scattered.

What I do know is Jay dropped me off and took the trunk with him. I didn’t hear much from Jay for a while after that. A couple of months later Jay calls me up one night frantic. Asking me questions that didn’t make sense, going off on rambling tangents that I couldn’t make sense of. I got him to calm down a bit, then he demanded I came over. I hadn’t seen Jay like that before. It takes a certain kind of attitude to do the kind of exploration he did and this just wasn’t expected. Needless to say I drove over as soon as I could


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I LIVE AGAIN