The Franklin Files

CHAPTER 20
END OF PART ONE (BUT REALLY THE BEGINNING)

  

     I apparently didn't tell my parents what had happened, and kept it to myself.

     The next day, I remember I was about to leave the driveway and walk to school, but my feet froze where they were on the threshold of the property because I was suddenly terrified they would try to abduct me again.

     I wished I could ride my bicycle, but it was out of the question.

     I had to go to school.

     I tried to tell myself it was a random kidnapping attempt, but I knew it wasn't.

     The only thought that actually made my legs move was the thought that I only had to walk to this school, two more days, and then I would never have to walk to this school again.
     
     Only a couple of weeks later, while riding my bicycle (I had been given back that privilege) and while riding to my new school located on Market Street, and taking the same route that I had established from the first day, along an alleyway that ran parallel to the main drag, in a failed attempt to avoid what would happen next.  Again, my route could easily have been identified by observing me a couple of times.

     I was ambushed, as the alley way I was riding through crossed a small avenue.

     A man wearing a ski mask, who was white, about thirty years old, and the same policeman's build as the person who tried to abduct me and whom I met at the recreation center, jumped out in front of me in what was clearly an ambush.

     Before I had time to react by doing anything but slamming on my breaks, the man had pulled out a .38 caliber "Saturday Night Special", pushed the barrel to my forehead and ****ed the trigger back.

     "Have you told anyone else," he asked.

     "No, of course not."

     "Are you sure," he said with a maniacal smile.

     "I'm sure," I said.

     And then he starred directly in my eyes for what seemed like an eternity, during which my entire life flashed before my eyes, and I really thought he was going to pull the trigger.

     Apparently he was trying to determine if I was telling the truth or not.

     "This is our little secret-- don't tell anyone-- don't even say it in your prayers lest someone overhear what you say"

     "OK," I said, peeing my pants.

     "Because, if you tell anyone else, we will get you and you're entire family, before the police get to us."

     "OK," I said.

     Then he put the gun in the waistband of his jogging pants, and disappeared stage left.

     I had to go to school that day terrified, and pretend that nothing happened, and tell no one.

     And that is what I did, for the next fifteen years. The first person I would tell was my dad, fifteen years later in 1990.

     You might think this is the end, but it's really just the beginning of my book.

     Part one, was really just setting the background for the story.

     The reader may be saying to himself, pondering, "OK, some of this sounds interesting-- certainly the night of the sleepover is damn suspicious, and the vandalism at the school is interesting, but not necessarily convincing as a murder plot, although the kidnapping attempt is pretty obvious, but what does all this have to do with MK-ULTRA and organized pedo-groups?"

     That's why I say, the book has only just begun. Now that I've laid the basic facts of what I perceived to have happened at the time, I will continue my narrative and journey into my adulthood, where much more is revealed, showing that was I perceive happened was only the tip of the iceberg.

     Stay tuned for Part Two of SPECTERS OF THE PAST

Darron.