Frankie Pt. 01

"Stop it Ezra. You're misbehaving, you don't need to pull me."

He let go immediately and stood sulking until she picked his chin up with her finger.

"Ez, you must be on your best behavior tonight. Mr. K is taking us out to supper, like we did once last year when Uncle Ramos took us. Remember?" He nodded. "Okay then, you must listen and not be noisy."

He nodded several times, "I be good sissy."

Sissy, it was what he always called her. She didn't like it when she was younger but wasn't bothered by it anymore. She was his rock, his anchor in a life of turmoil, his defender and protector, his voice in a world that didn't want to hear what he had to say. He ran ahead of us to the car, jumped in the backseat and waited. I opened the door for her and walked around to my side. Before we started, she turned to Ez.

"Seat belt on Ez? He hesitated. "You need to put it on or we can't go. You promised you'd be good. Do we need to stay home?"

"No, no, I be good."

The next thing I heard was a click and him apologizing. When we arrived at Rhino's I exited going around the car to open the door for Frankie, Ezra was out of the car making haste toward the diner when Frankie yelled. "Stop."

He stopped on a dime standing still until we caught up. She spoke softly but stern.

"Ezra, you're misbehaving again. You promised you would be good. I need you to settle down, take a deep breath. We'll be indoors, will you need your goggles?"

He shuffled a bit then looked at her, "Don't need um inside. I be good."

I was thoroughly impressed as she interacted with Ez. She didn't raise her voice or scold. She brought everything back to his behavior and the benefits awaiting if he acted accordingly. Taking the goggles she stepped forward.

After hugging him she held him away from her body looking into his eyes. "If you behave tonight maybe Mr. K will take us with him another time."

He looked at me with excitement, "Dat be true boss? You take me an sissy wich you agin?"

I needed to be firm as well as kind in my response, "That depends on how things go Ez. We need you to sit quietly and eat with us, if everything goes well, then we can probably do this again."

Judging by the smile on his face you'd have sworn it was Christmas morning with a mountain of presents under the tree and his name on every one of them. As I turned to Frankie I extended my arm, she put hers through the crook of mine and walked with me. Ezra stood at the door waiting for us, he pointed to a table in the back, I nodded, he led the way. People stared, of course they would, but no one was malicious or rude, it was curiosity and once that was satisfied, they went back to eating their meal. I held the chair for Frankie and helped her slide in, she looked up and smiled.

"I've never had a man do that for me before. Thank you."

Ezra wanted chicken fingers and French fries. Frankie shook her head gently then looked at me.

"I'm surprised he hasn't turned into a chicken, he wants chicken fingers at least four times a week. I cook them and then make whatever I happen to want. He's happy, I'm happy, he's healthy and never seems to gain weight, why rock the boat."

As a cook Rhino was as classic and old school as his diner. Scruffy face, big gut, always chewing on something, wore a goofy chef's hat and a white outfit that always started out clean. You could almost tell how long he'd been in the kitchen that day by the amount of stuff on his apron. His two older teen daughters and their mother worked the floor. They'd call out whatever the order was, he'd repeat it and before you knew it, a plate was in front of you. I never saw them write anything down, and it was seldom that an order didn't come out right. Rhino may have looked unkempt at times, but it was obvious he had more going for him than his appearance.

I ordered the salad I'd spoken of, she decided to do the same. Only with the bleu cheese. How anyone could think bleu cheese came from anywhere but the pit of hell is beyond me. When our food arrived Ezra had his head down and then glanced at Frankie. She whispered.

"We always say grace, it's something daddy taught us."

As soon as she said "amen" Ezra tore into his plate of food. Frankie gently put her hand on his.

"Slow down. There's no hurry. When we're done maybe Mr. K will take us on a walk by the lake. Would you like that?" He nodded between bites. "Maybe you should ask if he will take us."

He started to talk with his mouth full when Frankie cleared her throat and gave him the evil eye. Once his mouth was empty he looked at me.

"We go to da lake boss? Maybe skip a stone wit me?"

I was moved, "Sure Ez, we'll take a walk by the lake. Maybe afterward we can get an ice cream if sissy says it's okay."

He looked at her with longing eyes but saying nothing. I glanced at Frankie. She smiled at me.

"He knows better than to beg, it gets him nowhere, but those sad puppy dog eyes are hard to resist. Yes, we can get an ice cream on the way home."

He was like a kid again. All smiles and giddiness. It was easy to see how Frankie could describe him as soft hearted and full of fluff. I began wondering if I should call her Frankie or Francine. Maybe I would ask at another time. Though we live in the south where you often see mixed race couples most are a black man and white, Spanish, or Asian woman. It's not as common to see a black girl with a white guy. Watching Frankie's eyes across the table I knew something was wrong. She sat straight as she addressed me.

"Tim Walters is headed this way, the racist bastard. He picks on Ez something terrible. I'd like to kick his butt."

Isn't it amazing that in the 21^st century we still have people who live in a world long since past. One had to look hard to find literal racism and disregard for another person's skin color, but sadly it still exists in some circles. One of those circles was a family called the Walters. The grandfather had made a fortune in cotton decades ago, the children and grandchildren lived off his hard work, and sadly held onto his biased ways. Ways that have long since been abhorred by most people.

I decided we weren't going to have a confrontation, not tonight. I stood and turned, Tim was six or seven feet from me, I stepped toward him and stopped with him directly in front of me. Frankie was right, he is a bastard, as well as a racist piece of excrement. His family was old money which seemed to make him feel entitled. Mind you, there were several other families in the area with old money and they didn't act like him. So what was his problem? It was time to put the brakes on.

"That's far enough Tim. No need to go any further, turn around and leave. Frankie and Ezra are here with me."

The sneering little prick had the balls to look at me and say. "Gotcha some brown sugar on the side do ya? You never was very smart."

I calmly reached forward and squeezed his scrawny throat as he began gasping for air. Rhino was on the scene by then and grabbed my arm.

"Let him go Trom, this piece o shit aint worth no trouble. Walters, get your nasty ass outa my place and don't come back."

Tim stormed away pointing back at me and shouting, "This aint over. You better figure out which side of the fence you wanna live. The white side or the black side."

That pissed me off even more, I shucked Rhino's hand from my arm and was headed toward the door when several men in the room stood to their feet. All were looking at Tim and none of them had happy faces. Which meant I didn't have to go any further. The biggest one was John Henry (no shit, that's his name, just like the song) at least six foot five inches of rock-hard black muscle. He pointed at Tim.

"You best leave now boy afore you get yo ass put in the hospital."

Isn't it odd how the biggest guys seem to marry the tiniest of women, because that was certainly the case with John. Doreen isn't more than five foot six and if she weighs a hundred and forty pounds in a wet sweater I'd be surprised. Very calmly she reached up and touched John's arm while at the same time preventing the kid in the highchair from flinging a French fry who knows where. That's another thing, how does a woman that tiny manage to give birth to three children naturally from a brute his size? John looked down at Doreen, nodded and sat, saying no more as Walters scurried out the door.

What Frankie said surprised me, "Some people call what just happened with John and Doreen being P-whipped. I call it love. He's big enough he could crush her, but he loves her so much he wouldn't dream of hurting her. If a man tried to calm him down like that John would toss them aside, but not his angel. You know, I remember when they announced their engagement. Everyone said it would never work between a big black guy and a small Mexican girl, but it did. Look at those two, it's amazing. That's what I want."

I laughed, "Someone as big as John?"

She grinned, "No you toad. Someone who will love me unconditionally like those two do. I don't think that's too much to ask?"

I shook my head, "No. No it isn't. Shall we take a walk by the lake Ez?"

Ezra needed no more incentive, he was up and waiting for us by the door. I rounded the table and slid her chair back. Another smile.

"Opening my car door, sliding my chair. You know, a girl could get used to this."

We walked, skipped rocks and had a pleasant time at the lake. There weren't many people, those we encountered all said hello and smiled as we passed. As darkness began to set in I suggested we head back and go get an ice cream cone.

Ezra was going to run, Frankie yelled "Ez. You stay where I can see you. Do you understand?"

"Yes sissy, I be good."

As we sat slurping our Tasty Freez soft serve cones at a picnic table Ezra pointed at Al Yonkers and said softly.

"Dat man not nice. He be mean to Ezra lotsa time. I don't like dat man."

I looked at Ez, "I don't like him either. We'll just stay away from him. How does that sound?"

"Dat be good boss."

When we arrived at her house Frankie asked if I'd like to sit a spell with her on the front porch. She said Ez would be watching Gun Smoke on the Western channel. I declined when she asked if I'd like a beer. We weren't saying much, just looking out over the street, listening to the kids in the neighborhood playing hide and seek. It was Frankie who broke the silence.

"What the Walters boy said in the diner. Did that bother you? It sure did me. That he would think I'm some sort of slut because my skin is darker than his. How dare he?"

Though we were side by side on the swing our bodies hadn't been touching. I reached and put my hand on hers.

"You know some people talk about being color blind. That's BS. Of course we see our skin is different, but for me it's what's inside the skin that matters. I hate the way he talked about you, I hate what he stands for, and I hate when people judge based on preconceived notions. As for you being a little brown sugar on the side, you're the farthest thing from that in my eyes. I like being with you Frankie. By the way, which do you prefer, Frankie or Francine?"

She turned her hand so it was palm up and gently squeezed mine.

Very quietly she said, "From you, Francine".

She then adjusted how she sat to look at me, "You know Trom I had a massive crush on you in high school. I loved hanging with your sister, but it was you I came to see. I would go home broken hearted because you never seemed to see me. I pined and cried myself to sleep for months after you left for the military. I heard an older Linda Ronstadt song on the radio and made part of it mine. I would sing the chorus over and over in my head. 'I think I'm gonna love you for a long, long time'."

To say I was shocked is an understatement, "I never had the slightest inkling Francine. I wasn't the sharpest pencil in the drawer when it came to girls. I'd like to think I'm more observant now."

She looked at me in all seriousness, "This will sound silly, and I don't want you to think I'm being presumptuous, but can we start over Trom? I'm not a starry-eyed girl with a crush any longer, but I do know what I'm looking for."

I was silent, just staring at her, wondering how to tell her yes without sounding too eager.

"Maybe we should take our time and get to know each other, as adults."

She smiled, "I like that idea. The thought of knowing you on a more personal level is a pleasant one.

Because if we are going to do that, I don't want to just be Frankie. Everybody calls me that. If we're going to get to know each other better, I want to be more to you than Frankie the shop teacher."

I was about to say something when she jumped to her feet, "Uh oh, I'd better go in, I don't want to dampen the spirit but if I don't get Ez motivated it will be eleven before I get him in bed. By the way, I like being with you Trom. I enjoyed the evening."

As she walked with me down the sidewalk to my car she put her hand on my elbow and stopped me.

"Trom, we need to have a serious conversation about what was said in the diner. I want to make certain we're on the same page before this goes any further. Can we do that?"

I nodded and said, "Yes Francine, we can do that. You have a good night."

I laid in bed staring at the dark ceiling for a very long time before sleep finally came. I was silently chastising myself for not taking that slippery little prick out back and pounding the shit out of him. Why did I not do that? What held me back? I can never let anything like that happen again I told myself over and over. Sleep was fitful at best, I'd wake, doze off and wake again. I finally got out of bed at 5 and went to the shop.

I did paperwork and inventory until just past eight. Before I left I phoned Francine.

"Good morning." She chirped.

"Good morning to you as well. Have you had breakfast?"

She laughed softly, "Oh my yes, an hour ago. Thanks, but we're getting ready to walk out the door, church starts in twenty minutes. I'm not on the worship team this week or we'd have been there already. You can come along if you'd like."

I had never been much of a church guy but didn't have a problem attending if I had a specific reason. Being with Francine was good enough in my book.

"Okay but save a seat for me. I should probably shower."

I heard her tell Ez he had to wear a nice shirt and Sunday bibs to church. Then she spoke to me.

"I will. You won't miss anything important. They have announcements and stuff like that right away, so if you get there by say, 9, you'll be in time for worship."

I had to ask, "What are Sunday bibs?"

She chuckled, "Bibs I won't let him wear for anything other than church or something important like that. He likes them pressed. I know, I know, it sounds silly to you and me but not to him. If that's all I have to worry about life is easy."

As I walked into church an usher pointed toward some empty chairs, I wasn't sure if I should sit there or look for Frankie. I caught myself thinking 'Francine, I need to call her Francine'. That's when she turned around and saw me, with a smile she beckoned me to come sit with she and Ez. Whom I noticed was without hat and goggles. I found myself enjoying the service, it certainly wasn't traditional, but it wasn't all glitz and glam either. No fog machines or flashing light show. I'd been to a few of those services in the big city and walked away wondering what I had just been a part of.

Worship was a nice mix of newer stuff and a few older hymns. The minister was seasoned, grey hair, wrinkled skin, probably in his early 60's, and right on the money. He didn't drone on and simply read a set of notes, he spoke from the heart, touching people's lives where they were at. When the service ended we slowly made our way out of the facility, stopping to greet people and shake hands. I'd never felt that welcome in a church before. There were young, old, mixed races, people dressed to the nines and then there were people like Francine and me. Casual dress, she was wearing a lovely dress, I had worn a dress shirt and slacks.

Shaking the ministers' hand at the door he greeted me by name.

"Good morning Trom. Nice to see you here. Did you like the service?"

I was surprised, "Uh, yes. Yes I did. Do we know each other sir?"

He chuckled, "I bought my mower and chain saw from you. Have you forgotten?"

Then it all came back to me, "Yes sir. I mean no sir, I haven't forgotten you. And thank you for being a loyal customer."

He squeezed my hand in a friendly gesture, "I was one of the first customers after you bought the business, and that was some time ago. Please come see us again."

Ez seemed to know the routine. He stood about six feet away looking back at Frankie every minute or so. When we turned making our way down the sidewalk she slid her hand through my arm. Ez started out walking much faster. Suddenly she said "Ez" with firmness in her voice. That was all it took, he slowed down and made sure he wasn't too far in front of us. After getting Ez under control she looked at me with deep soft puppy dog eyes, batted her long lashes a few times and said softly.

"Where are you taking us to lunch?"

I smiled, "Nicely played Miss Mallery. Where would you like to go?"

Hugging my arm tightly she giggled, "I like the brunch at Zorba's. If we go right away we can miss most of the church crowd. It gets extremely busy on Sundays."

At her car I opened the door for her. Rolling the window down I leaned to her.

"If I get caught in traffic get a table and I'll find you."

Ez had his hat and goggles on, interrupting with a thousand questions as we tried talking. She spun around and snapped her fingers.

"Ezra, you know better. Mr. K. wants to take us to lunch, but if you won't behave we'll eat at home."

Ezra mumbled a soft sorry as she put the window up and smiled at me. When I got to Zorba's I found them at a table across the room, Ezra was standing waving me over. I marveled at how he existed in his own world, his reality and mine were different. He was full of innocence and gentleness, the ravages of the world didn't affect him much as long as people weren't being mean to him, and he had his sissy. I knew at least half or more of the people in the room and greeted them while making my way to the table.

I don't think people figured out where I was going until I reached the table. I noticed Frankie had gotten Ezra to leave his hat and goggles in the car. They were talking in a hushed manner as I pulled the chair out. She smiled at me and put her hand on top of mine.

"We were talking about you taking us to a restaurant two days in a row and that he would need to be on his best behavior. He told me he likes going with us and that he'll be extra good."

I looked at him and wondered why the rest of the world couldn't be as simple as it was in Ezra's mind. He may have the mind of a 10-year-old living in an adult body, but he had nothing but love in his heart. As Frankie predicted Ezra wanted chicken fingers, we had the brunch buffet. I was comfortable with the first plate but decided it tasted so good I had a second plate. When I sat Francine smiled.

"You'll be sorry." She said and then laughed.

I knew she was right but ignored her. Following brunch I dropped them off and took my miserable body home to lay down. My stomach was unsettled, I was hoping a short nap would bring relief. Which it did. Ezra showed up on time Monday morning babbling about how much fun he had over the weekend and about how much missy talked about me. I smiled to myself, I'd never heard him talk so much. I also realized that maybe she and I could make it work in spite of the odds against us. I didn't talk with or hear from Frankie until closing time on Thursday. I was getting ready to stand and lock up when who should walk through the door but Frankie. Strolling to my desk she gave me one of her coy grins and stood staring at me.