The Franklin Files — The Revelations

October 25, 2010 by  

It was a slow night at Merlotte’s but you couldn’t tell that by Tara. She was on her very last nerve as she watched Maxine Fortenberry having dinner with one of her friends from church. Maxine had that effect on most everyone but she was pushing Tara into overdrive.

From the minute she’d taken her order and Maxine started drumming her fake-ass red nails on the table, Tara was regretting she told Arlene it was okay to go home early and she had things covered. Yes, Arlene was pregnant and deserved a break. But the sound of those nails on the table was ringing through the restaurant and the longer Terry was taking with the food, the faster Maxine was going. And something about that sound was really getting to Tara. And if she watched them, Tara found she was almost mesmerized by them, like…she…was…right…now…

“Shit, Mrs. Fortenberry, please stop that racket with those nails of yours. You’re bothering the other customers.”

Maxine looked around with her highly decorated, blue shadowed eyes and replied, “Weeell, excuuuse, me, Tara Thornton. The only other customer in here is Mike Spencer, and it looks to me like you’re getting ready to leave, aren’t you, Mike?”

“What? Excuse Me?” As soon as Mike Spencer saw Maxine pull into the parking lot, he began praying for his order to be up, so he could choke his cheeseburger down and get out of there. Maxine had that effect on people.

“Miss Thornton here thinks I may be bothering you, Mr. Spencer. But I said it looks like you’re fixin’ to leave. Isn’t that right?”

“I sure am. I’ll see y’all later.” And with that, Mike put a few bucks on the counter and beat a path of retreat. He may work with the dead, and now there was the undead, but he found Maxine Fortenberry a whole hell of a lot scarier. He’d also like to give her a few lessons on makeup that he’d learned at the DeLong School of Mortuary Sciences in Baton Rouge. He could sure teach her a few things about putting on some rouge. God, that woman sure looked like a freakish, circus clown.

“Terry, you got that food ready for Mrs. Fortenberry?” Tara yelled back through the order window.

“I’m having a little trouble with the grill, Tara. Give them some of this Jell-o Surprise Lafayette whipped up for lunch.”

Tara looked down at the bowls. They were filled with red jell-o cubes mixed with whipped cream. “Holy Shit, Terry! I don’t know what’s wrong with my cousin. Ever since he started dating Jesús, he’s turned into some sick puppy dog bitch. I can’t take all this fruity ass shit he’s cooking. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy he’s happy, but Pineapple Upside Down cake, Strawberry Shortcake, and now Jell-o Surprise? I like a good dessert and all, but all this happiness is making him downright sick in his head. Plus right when you meet someone it’s just going to blow up in your face.” Tara knew this all too well.

“Well, I know I’ve never been happier than I am right now with Arlene.”

“Whatever. Just give me the damn Jell-o.”

Tara walked over to Maxine’s booth, “Terry’s just working on your burgers so here’s some complimentary Jell-o Surprise as an appetizer.”

“Oh, how nice,” said Maxine. “I had no idea that Sam was trying to get so much more sophisticated. Is he trying to compete with that French restaurant in Baton Rouge?”

“Yeah, that’s it, Maxine. This Jell-o Surprise is really classing up the place. I’ll be behind the bar if you need anything.”

Tara sat down behind the bar. Truth be told, it wasn’t just Maxine, it was everything. She was just tired. These had to be the worst couple months of her life. Ever since the vamps had “come out” life hadn’t been the same, and since Bill Compton had walked through the door of Merlotte’s Tara’s life had really taken some strange twists and turns. There was Maryann who’d taken over her mind but she’d led Tara to Eggs who’d been the best man she had ever met. Tara’s heart ached for Eggs and she still couldn’t believe he was dead. Then, there was the psychotic vampire who kidnapped her…

Tara noticed Maxine out of the corner of her eye, she was sucking that damn Jell-o piece by piece, and whipped cream and small pieces of the red crap were getting caught around the sides of her lips and pasty white chin. All of a sudden more of Tara’s memories of Franklin, that crazy ass vampire, came rushing back. She could feel his blood and brains and pieces of his body all over her again. It had happened not once, but twice. The first time was at Russell Edgington’s when Tara beat his brains in with a bludgeon the night before they were supposed to be married. The second time was right outside this bar when Jason saved her life after Franklin came here to get his revenge. Watching Maxine with that Jell-o, the smells, the tastes, the feel of his tissue on her body and face, all of it came rushing back to Tara.

“Terry I gotta’ get out of here.”

Thanks to his PTSD, everything, and nothing, seemed to stress Terry out, so he yelled after her “Okay, Tara, I’ll hold down the fort.”

Tara ran out of Merlotte’s, right past the spot where Jason had killed Franklin, and into the woods surrounding the bar and smack into Franklin’s car.

“Holy Shit, what is that doing here?”

Tara began shaking and curled up under a tree. After a few minutes (or was it a few hours?),  she got up and shook herself off. She finally figured out that Jason probably drove the car in here to hide what had happened to Franklin. Maybe this wasn’t all bad. She remembered all of Franklin’s briefcases. Maybe there was something of value in the car. She opened the driver’s side door.

“God love him. That Jason is one short brick of a full load, the keys are still in the ignition.” She found the key that opened the trunk and went around to the back.

Slowly, Tara opened the trunk, a little hesitant as to what or whom she might find in there. But fortunately, it held just one briefcase. She opened it up and found it was filled with a bunch of files about people she had never heard of. Then her hand found a fat envelope, she caught her breath as she discovered the envelope was filled with $50 bills. “Alrighty then. I think I’m entitled to this, after all, I’m damn near his widow or closest thing to it.”

Thinking maybe there might be more envelopes like that, Tara decided to take everything out of the briefcase and rip the whole damn thing apart. She felt a bulge at the bottom of the case. She opened the tool box and grabbed a screwdriver and tore it apart. There was a large, extremely thick, very old, musty leather bound journal. She took it out to where she could read the engraving on the cover by the lights of the parking lot. And then she turned to the opening page and let out a gasp of surprise, “Holy Mother of God!”

Wednesday, October 31, 1855
This morning’s rain matched my mood as I followed in my father’s footsteps on my death march to a lifetime in his calling. I watched his bowed head of submission and met my mother’s victorious eyes (for truly it was her victory more than his that had led to my mounting the steps that gloomy cold morning) as I gripped the railings and began the first sentences of my sermon in St. Mary the Virgin Church.

Disclaimer: The Franklin Files are provided for entertainment purposes only and is a parody of the fantasy series, True Blood, and as such, is presented here for your amusement. “Franklin Files” and the various writers that contribute to it, have no relationship/affiliation to HBO, True Blood, or any of the cast or crew of said program nor any relation to Charlaine Harris, or the Sookie Stackhouse novels.

Written By: Sarahfina

Photo & Graphics By: Sarahfina