The Adventures of Abernathy Franklin

Episode 1: Abernathy, Meet Frankie

It was a particularly warm evening in August when I had a most intriguing, scarcely believable experience. Life altering, I suppose one might say. I had readied myself for bed, brushed the pearly whites, donned the pink pajamas …or they may have been coral. Or it could have been persimmon? I never could pronounce that correctly. Purr-sim-mun? It’s not important. Anyway, I was well snuggled in and on the point of dropping into a pleasant sleep when I heard a sound. It was a sort of sudden shuffling or scuffle coming from the direction of the kitchen, as if a body of some kind had abruptly stopped itself on the edge of a chair and shifted it an inch or two. My eyes shot open, not much use in the dark, and I tilted an ear in the direction of the sound, holding my breath and listening intently. Part of me was desperately wondering why I did not routinely take a carving knife to bed. There came more softs sounds of covert movement when…

Well. No, wait. I’m getting ahead of myself.

It may be an imposition to my audience to back peddle at this moment of suspense, but I feel I would be doing a disservice if I did not provide some context and mention the nights preceding this incident. For several nights prior, I had been having the most vivid and unusual dreams. Throughout my life, I have often been a colorful dreamer and did not think much of it at first, but I had been dreaming repeatedly of a green light. Amidst dreaming of some other mundane subject, like arguments with my mother, being late for class or work, becoming entangled in some accidental murder and consequent body disposal - the usual. Then my dream would be interrupted by a small sphere of glowing green light. It would appear in my periphery, arrest my attention and I would begin to follow it. As I followed, the green sphere would grow larger and brighter until my vision was completely obscured by this bright green glow.

From the last of these dreams, just prior to the night in question, I had awoken to find myself standing in my garden. Pajama clad, barefeet in the mud with my right arm outstretched as if I had been trying to touch the green light. Not a little unnerving as you can imagine. And all the next day, before my life became rather more interesting than a night on the town in Bangkok, I found myself musing on this somnambulatory experience with a bit less trepidation and a little more eager curiosity. What was this green light? What did it mean? Would I dream of it again? And ought I lock the back gate and bar the front door to prevent potential sleepwalking through the neighborhood? Or maybe just wear shoes to bed?

Now, let us return to our nocturnal intruder. I was attempting some stealth of my own, feeling silently on the bedside table for my phone in hopes of dialing for help, when out of the corner of my eye I saw that strange green glow. Or did I sense it? Hard to say now. But I turned to look in time to notice the decidedly white fluorescent glow of the kitchen light being switched on.

“I’m not a burglar, you know.” said a strangely familiar voice.

“And why should I trust you?” I responded without really thinking and despite my nerves.

“Come out and see.” the voice tinkled in a jovial sort of way.

I rose from bed, switched on my lamp and quickly snatched my phone off the nightstand. No sense in giving this seemingly friendly owl all of the benefit of the doubt. I peered around the door frame down the hall to see the intruder seating herself at my table with a smile. And at this juncture my shocked curiosity overtook my fear and so called better judgment.

“But you? You can’t…,” I shook my head as I approached the table, doing my best to clear the webs of insanity that I was convinced had finally overtaken every single one of my tiny little gray cells. “Who are you?”

“Abernathy Franklin, pleased to meet you.” Entirely too pleased, I remember being my first thought. While I admit that this figure did, in what appeared to be every detail, match my own personal visage to the proverbial ‘t’, I was not entirely prepared to accept that I was meeting my own doppelganger for a late impromptu chat whilst in my jammies.

“I am Abernathy Franklin,” I placed as heavy an emphasis on the “I” as I could manage, half hoping my ‘how dare you’ tone might elicit a more reasonable response.

“Yes, you are.” Her demeanor was pleasant enough, albeit a tad on the chirpy side. If we had met accidentally at a coffee shop or some metaphysical crystal boutique, I might be inclined to rather enjoy it. However, in present pajama-ed circumstances, and considering she did break into my home after all, I was finding it a trifle irritating.

“Then who the hell are you?” I asked, pointing at her accusingly with my Samsung.

“I’m you. Well, I’m one version of you.” Her eyes rolled on that ‘well’ with such innocent gaiety, I almost decided to like her. Then of course, I was struck with the paranoia of every true crime murder-death-kill podcast, documentary series, or television program I had ever consumed and promptly changed my mind. “I’m calling the police.”

“Mmmm...I’m not sure that’s the best idea. If I’m not mistaken, in your reality, the police have a tendency to shoot to kill first and ask questions later…without much emphasis on the questions later bit. Anyway, it would be a shame to stain those lovely pajamas. Where’d you get those by the way?” She leaned forward on the table putting her chin in one hand and looking me up and down approvingly as if wishing we could exchange ensembles.

I looked down at my jammies unwittingly and started, “Oh these? I didn’t pick them out, they were actually a gift...hang on! Dammit! Don’t sit there grinning at me like some happy ass, fairy tale mischief maker spinning gold yarns or whatever, explain yourself!” Honestly, she almost had me there.

“Oooh! It really is much more fun to be on this side of the table.” She squealed and sort of wiggle danced out of her chair. “I have of course been on your side of the table, metaphorically speaking, and quite properly ticked off, as I’m sure you are now.” I must confess, as she said these words, I did indeed have to suppress an urge to hurl the phone in my hand directly at her happy head. Then I realized it was also sort of my happy head, because she was me, and the resulting confusion gave me pause.

“I am Abernathy Franklin,” she bowed theatrically. “Abby to most family, Frankie to most friends, everlastingly wonderful weirdo to one and all! I am you from another dimension. Oh, I should say tho, in case you might meet, I’m Frankie with an ie. Not to be confused with Franki with an i, but, ha! Once you meet her, you won’t have trouble distinguishing us. And I doubt she has half so much high end taste in evening wear.” She smiled brightly, again admiring my jammies.

“You’re insane. Or I’m insane and you’re my hallucination, in any case….”

“You did see the green light, didn’t you?” she interjected. Her eyes betrayed the sort of excitement you might expect from a child opening gifts on Christmas morning. Or a sociopathic comic book villain gleefully spouting plans for world domination to their loyal henchmen. One of the two.

“How do you know about..? I suppose because you’re me.” I could feel my incredulity slowly melting away.

This Abby to family, Frankie with an ie to friends, squealed and did another little dance. I couldn’t help wondering, is that what I look like when I do that? I’ve always imagined that my own energetic outbursts were rather endearing to those in the vicinity. From the observer’s perspective, I was mainly starting to worry she might knock over my tea kettle or send some other stray object crashing to the floor with her flamboyance.

“Exactly! I dreamed of a green light before I met me. And I’ve been following it all about the cosmos, you’re going to love it!” Her exhilaration was, not to be too self praising, intoxicating to a degree. But then I suppose I have always quite liked myself. Not in a vain sort of way. More of a, “Well why not, who else is gonna?” sort of way. And there was something magnetic about her joy.

“What is it? The green light?” That pressing desire to explore was creeping upon me.

“Umm, think along the lines of ancient Vedic teachings, Buddhism and all that. The chakras. And energy. Your heart chakra is green. So, near as most of us can tell, it’s a sort of following your heart energy indicator type thing. And ours has always been a heart looking for adventure and mystery, hasn’t it?!”

“Wait? How does that work? My own heart chakra energy like, jumps out and runs away from me and I’m supposed to chase it? Is it some kind of consciousness holographic projection?” This was where my brain started working harder than I generally prefer, and Frankie seemed to sense as much.

“Oh, we don’t have the answers to the mechanics of it. How dull would life be if we did?! Just think of it as magic! Or the universe! Or angels or demons or fairies, whatever you like best!” Her arm waving and cartoonish movements around the table were giving me a hint of how my family and friends must feel when I start in on my own rants about energy and consciousness. She had the distinct aura of the Town Witch riding the high point of a three day bender, much to the chagrin of her neighbors and the local constabulary. And if I’m being honest with myself, at that moment, I couldn’t help wanting to be on that high with her.

“So then how did you get here? And where do you come from?”

“I come from Earth just like you, but another sort of dimensional overlay or iteration of Earth. Like another reality on top of this one, very similar but also individual. It’s a bit hard to define in human terms. Just follow the green light. It’s not a science. Or maybe it is. Or maybe it’s magic. You just have to…” she was making waving motions with her hands, as if trying to pluck accurate instructions out of the ether. “... you want to do it and so you just do it!”

“I decide I want to do it, and just do it.”

“That’s it! We’ve always been fast learners, haven’t we?”

“Yeah. Right. Ok. I think it’s time for you to float back to wherever you came from so that I can wake up in my garden again. Or go back to bed and sleep off my apparent stroke.” I began shooing her towards the back door.

“You’re going to try it. You won’t be able to help yourself, the possibilities are just too delicious!” She clapped her hands in what could only be described as ecstasy. Then she grabbed me about the shoulders. And for the first time since spotting another version of me at my kitchen table, I felt myself really truly believing that she was real, that it was all true. I mean, if she was real enough to touch me…

Her eyes took on a more gentle glow as she squeezed my shoulders. “Don’t be afraid. I know, we’ve always been conditioned to be afraid, but I’m telling you, there’s no need. Just trust yourself. You’ll figure it out.” She released my shoulders and stepped back. Instinctively, I looked down where she had touched me and raised a hand to touch my own shoulder, about to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

I shook my head again and exasperatedly rubbed my face with my hands. “Now really, you need to..” But she was already gone. Evaporated. Discorporated. Disappeared into the night. Simply no longer in existence before me. Gone. I looked about the kitchen and adjoining living room. No sign of her. No intruder. No other me.

I stood for a long while (or it may have been no time at all, who can say) contemplating this waking dream, this impossibility I had just been presented with. I said aloud to myself. “If I really do believe anything is possible.” And at that moment, a green glow arose in the corner of my eye.

I turned to see the light, a small green pulsing sphere, suspended in my living room. I moved towards it slowly, almost as if approaching a skittish animal I didn’t want to frighten away. It pulsed and grew as I moved closer. The bright glowing green light became as large as a doorway, and from its unseen depths I heard the most joyful laughter. Do I really want to do this?

“Frankie, my friend,” talking out loud to myself again I touched the light. It felt like warm liquid air. “The possibilities really are too delicious.” And I stepped through the light, through my doubts and fears and into an entirely other world.

And that, dear friends, is where I leave you. Off to explore new realms and follow my bliss. But don’t worry. There’s plenty more of me where that came from.