The Franklin Files

Members Login
    Remember Me  

Senior Member

Status: Offline
Posts: 318

     Scott and I became instant friends. Scott and I only had one argument ever with each other, and that was right at the end of our friendship, otherwise, we were the best of friends.

     Scott and I hung out with each other virtually every day we could from that first day in late July when we first met.

     Scott asked if I wanted to come to his house with him. He told me he lived right across the street from the school. he pointed with his index finger. I could see his house directly from where we stood inside the LaTijera Elementary School campus.

     He lead me to his house which was the second or third down from the corner. I had my bicycle with me; a blue String-Ray Schwinn. I left it leaning against the side of his garage.

     Rather than leading me inside the house, Scott lead me inside the garage, which was a two-car garage separate from the main house.

     Inside, it was rather dark, in spite of the July burning sunshine outside. It was warm and dark and a bit musty smelling. The garage was empty of any cars.

     Scott led me to a ladder on the north end of the garage. The ladder led to a loft; a rather large loft.

     Scott started climbing the ladder and motioned for me to do the same. When Scott got off the ladder so that he was kneeling up on the loft, I followed him up the ladder, and with some difficulty, managed to get my body off of the ladder and fully on to the loft with him.

     Up on the loft, Scott and I sat with our legs hanging over the edge as he showed me his candy stash, and his comic-book stash.

     "You read comic books?" He asked me handing me a bowl of candy.

     I took a handful of candy from the bowl and said, "Yea sure?"

     "What kinds you got?" he asked me.

     "I got Superman mostly," I said proudly. Superman was my favorite comic book.

     "What else?" he asked.

     "Um, Archie," I said.

     "Uh hu,"

     "Sabrina," I said.

     "OK, what else?"

     "I've got one Batman-- you know, the one where he quits being Batman?"

     Scott nodded, "Batman's cool. What else you got?"

     I hesitated to say, because the one comic book that I didn't mention, I didn't mention because it was my most coveted comic book. It was a Superboy and it was the only one I had.

     "Go on, what else you got?" Scott reiterated.

     "I've got a Superboy," I said.

     "You've got a Superboy!" He said excitedly, "For reals!"

     I nodded.

     Scott reached into a small cardboard box, fished around for a moment and then pulled out a comic book and handed it to me.

     "What's this?" I asked.

     "Spiderman!" Scott said with a smile.

     "Oh," I said. I started to hand it back to him.

     "Don't you want to read it?" he asked.

     "What right here?" I asked.

     "Nah, take it home and read it," Scott said.

     "Really?" I asked, "You'd let me borrow it?"

     "If you let me borrow one of yours," he said.

     "Which one do you want to borrow," I asked.

     "The Superboy," he said excitedly with a smile.

     I started handing him the comic book back again, "Look, " I said, "No offense or anything but I think Spiderman is lame."

     "Come on, Spiderman is NOT lame. Have you ever read Spiderman before?"

     "No," I had to admit.

     "Take it home and read it. You'll change your mind. Spiderman is cool."

     "Well, alright, " I said and started to tuck the comic into the small of my back.

     "Wait, not yet," Scott said putting out his hand.

     "What?" I asked confused.

     "You don't get to take it yet, give it back." he said.

     I handed him the comic back.

     "Tomorrow, bring your Superboy and will trade," Scott said.

     I really didn't like this. I didn't even want to take my one Superboy anywhere. I wanted it at home, where it was safe.  "Its not going to be a trade," I said. "I'm going to let you borrow it, but I want it back when I'm done reading your Spiderman."

     "Yea sure," Scott said nodding his head enthusiastically.

     "Not to trade, " I reiterated. "Only to borrow."

     "Yea sure," he said, "Only to borrow."

     "Alright," I said reluctantly.

     "Ah don't look so glum. You're going to love that Spiderman. Its the best one ever," he said.

     "The Superboy I'm going to let you borrow is also the best one ever-- it's got Krypto in it, and its the one where Superboy faces off with Mxyzptlk (I tried to pronounce it the best I could) -- you know the guy from the other dimension and the only way Superboy can send him back is by pronouncing his name backwards."

     "It's hard enough to pronounce forwards, " Scott said.

     I laughed out loud when he said that. It struck me as funny. I had made a rather pathetic attempt to pronounce his name, even Scott was trying to help.

     "Don't choke on your candy," Scott said.

     I had a candy in my mouth that I was sucking on at that moment, so I swallowed it so I wouldn't choke on it. 

     "Yea your right, I could have choked on it, and it would have been all your fault," I said teasingly.

     It was hot up there on the loft. There was no ventilation and it was full on summer outside. The garage was hot to begin with but up there near the ceiling it was almost unbearable, but for some reason, it felt nice to me. It felt pleasant. I don't know why. There was no fan up there at all, and I could feel myself getting light headed but it felt good. I didn't know heat could feel so good.

     "So, what other magazine's you got?" Scott asked.

     "You mean besides comics?" I asked.

     "Yea," he said.

     "I've got a really cool Mad Magazine," I said. "Want me to bring that too?"

     "Hell yea, I love Mad Magazine," he said.

     "This one's really cool, it's got dirty Christmas Carols in it."

     "Bring it tomorrow," Scott said.

     "OK-- you'll like it. We can sing naughty Christmas Carols together."

     "Sounds fun," Scott said.

     I wiped some sweat out of my eyes that had fallen from my brow. Again, it was hot up there; really hot. But I didn't seem to mind at all.

     "Have another candy," Scott said handing me the candy bowl again.

     "Try one of these," he said, "They're great."

     It was a Mr. Payday. I'd never had one of those before. With my mouthful I said, "Yea pretty good."

     You know any of those naughty songs by heart?" Scott asked.

     "Nah, but I know some naughty songs," I said proudly.

     "Yea like what?"

     "OK, how 'bout this one...

          Mine eyes have seen the glory of the burning of
          the school, we have tortured all the teachers we
          have broken every rule, we are marching to the 
          office, we have killed the principal, our troops are
          marching on... Glory Glory hallelujah, teacher hit me
          with a ruler, I hit her in the butt with a rotten coconut,
          our troops are marching on..."

     "I know that one, here's another verse," Scott said, "...

          Glory Glory hallelujah, teacher hit me with a ruler,
          I hit her in the ass with a broken peace of glass,
          our troops are marching on...."

     I burst out laughing hearing this, wiping sweat off my brow with my t-shirt.

     "You never heard that one before?" Scott asked.

     "No," I said still laughing.

     "Oh but there's more," he said with a smile, "...

          Glory Glory hallelujah , teacher hit me with a ruler,
          I hid behind the door with a loaded .44, the teacher
          lives no more..."

     I kind of gave a chuckle. I didn't find that was nearly as funny as the previous.

     "What else do you know?" Scott asked me.

     "Oh just stupid stuff," I said, "Nothing else like that."

     "Like what?" 

     "OK," I said, "What does S.T.P. stand for?"

     "Stinky toilet paper," he said, "I've heard that one."

     "STICKY toilet paper," I said, "Not stinky," I said.

     "I think stinky is better, you know, stinky toilet paper, 'cause toilet paper is stinky after you use it." he said

     "Gross," I said.

     "OK what else?" he asked.

     "What does T.W.A. stand for?"

     "I don't know what?" Scott asked.

     "Teeny-Weeny-Airlines," I said.

     "That's just stupid," Scott said.

     "I told you they were stupid, you said you wanted to hear anyway," I defended myself.

     "Well let me tell you some," he said all serious like.

     "OK," I said, "let's hear."

     "What does K.I.S.S." stand for?

     I shook my head.

     "Knights in Satan's Service."

     "Is that supposed to be funny?" I asked.

     "No-- that's what it stands for. You know, The Rock band KISS, that's what the letters in their name stands for. It's kind of a secret," Scott said.

     "Really?" I asked.

     "Really. OK, here's another one, what does R.U.S.H. stand for?"

     I shook my head again, "I don't really listen to rock bands," I said.

     "You should, rock bands are cool-- you give up?" Scott asked.

     "Yea," I said.

     "Rulers Under Satan's House." Scott said.

     "OK," I said.

     "What does A.C.D.C. stand for?" Scott said.

     "Oh, I know this one!" I said proudly, "Alternating Current, Direct Current"

     "No-- the rock band-- AC/DC, what does it stand for?"

     I shook my head.

     "Anti Christ Devil's Church"

     "They're a church?" I asked.

     "No, they're a rock band. But they belong to the devil's church." he explained.

     "I never heard of the Devil's Church before. I didn't know The Devil had his own church," I said.

     "Well, he does, but it's kind of a secret."

     "Oh," I said.

     "You've never listened to any hard rock bands?"

     "Not really?" I said.

     "What kind of music do you listen to?"

     "John Denver," I said.

     "John Denver-- Who the hell is he?" Scott said.

     "Never mind," I said, "Country Music."

     "Well, no wonder you don't know about it," Scott said. "You got to start listening to hard rock bands."


     "Because its way cooler than John Denver-- who ever he is."

     "How do you know? You ever listen to John Denver?" I asked.

     "What other kind of music do you listen to?" Scott asked.

     "Well, Rock from the 50's-- I got bunches of L.P.'s from the 50's, I've got Roy Orbison, The Everly Brothers, Jimmy Rodgers--"

     "Stop! Stop! That's not what I meant," Scott said, "What do you listen to on the radio? Do you even have a radio?"

     "Yea, I just got a transistor last Christmas, want to see it?"

     "Yea," Scott said.

     I pulled it out of my right front pocket where I carried it and showed him.

     "Puke Green, " Scott said.

     "I know, the color is gross, but it was a gift," I said, "and it's small, fits right in my pocket," I said.

     "KHJ," Scott said.


     "Tune it to KHJ -- Here, " he said holding out his hand, "I'll tune it for you."

     I handed him the radio and he tuned around a bit until he was sure he had the right station.

     "Keep it on there, that's the coolest station there is."

     "OK," I said.

     "You're never going to hear John Denver on there, but you will hear lot's of cool songs, and listen to the words when you listen to them."


     "You'll find out why." He said.

     "Alright," I said.

     "Besides, they're having a contest right now, the "Stairway To Heaven" contest. Whenever you hear them play the song "Stairway To heaven" you call in the station, and if you get through, they'll give you a hundred dollars for each song you name that they played in the last hour. You're going to get at least a hundred dollars if you name Stairway To Heaven"

     "Really, a hundred dollars?"

     "For each song you can remember, but you got to say them in order or it doesn't count." Scott explained.

     "Alright," I said.

     "So listen as often as you can, and keep a couple of dime's in your pocket for when you hear the song so you can call them."

     "Alright, " I said, and thinking to myself it would be cool to win a hundred dollars. My entire allowance that I saved up only totaled thirty-five dollars and I'd been saving it forever it seemed.

     "Hey?" I asked suddenly.

     "What?" Scott said.

     "I've never heard the song Stairway To Heaven, how will I recognize it?" I asked as more sweat dripped into my eyes.

     "That's easy, follow me," he said.

     Scott led me down off of the loft and into his house through the back kitchen door. He led me to the living room where there were a stack of records there. He flipped through the stack and then handed me one."

     "There you go," he said.

     I looked at the album-- there was no writing on it. Just a picture of an old guy bent over with what looked like a bunch of twigs on his back. 

     "Led Zeppelin" Scott said, in case you were wondering. Greatest Rock band ever!" Scott exclaimed. "You got a record player doncha?"

     "Yea, but--"

     "Take it home, listen to the song Stairway To Heaven"

     "Alright," I said.

     "Then listen to it backwards," Scott said.

     "Backwards? Why the heck would I want to do that?"

     "Well then don't. It's up to you."

     "Bring it back tomorrow," Scott said.

     "OK," I promised.

     "Meet me back at the bridge where we first met you know?"

     "When?" I asked.

     "Um, noon" he said.

     "Why can't I just meet you at your house?" I asked.

     "Just meet me at the bridge, bring your Superboy," he said.

     I nodded. "Well, I better get going, or my mom will be worried about me." 

     I grabbed my bike and headed home.


-- Edited by The Phantom on Friday 19th of February 2010 09:24:39 PM


"Sometimes when you open your mind to the impossible,
  you discover the truth." Walter from Fringe.

Page 1 of 1  sorted by
Quick Reply

Please log in to post quick replies.

Create your own FREE Forum
Report Abuse
Powered by ActiveBoard