Midnight Liberty League - Part I

by Brock Law

our enemy. I found then, as I do today, that the less I listen to politicians, the more I understand.”

  As Franklin went on charming the group, Will was distracted by a gasping noise from behind. He looked over his shoulder and spied the three Germans shuffling towards the hallway. The largest of them was twitching uncontrollably, clenching his fists and gnashing his teeth. The other big one tried to restrain him. The old German pulled a small vial from his pocket and held it up to the lips of the trembling thug. He forced it into his comrade’s mouth and joined the other in grappling with the larger man’s flexing arms. After a few moments the man’s convulsing ceased and he shook it off and wiped the sweat from his brow. The older German then snapped around and squinted at Will, who promptly turned his attention back towards Franklin.

  When Franklin eventually exhausted as many facts from primary resources as he could pass for memories, he led the group into the room that housed the Supreme Court. Once taking center stage again he launched into another lecture about the design, occupancy, and history of the space.

  Everyone’s attention meandered, as eyes drifted over the frozen furniture. Perfect funereal preservation sheathed each chair, never again to creak with spirited dissention. Will floated from the present, idly hearing Franklin’s voice and allowing it to guide him into the vortex of his textbooks. His father, a history professor with an insatiable thirst for hometown subject matter, had sermonized the republic’s early history throughout Will’s childhood. Enveloped by its aura, he could feel himself a part of that world. As his mother had eluded to earlier, Will’s own ancestors had been a party to the Revolution, and genealogical research consumed his father’s time outside the world of academia. He felt as comfortable here as he did on the football field, admiring the quiet anticipation of violence that both shared. He lingered, until he felt the zap of static again.

  The French girl’s hand paused so tantalizingly near his that the fine hairs on the outside of her hand tickled his skin. Now, so close that her lavender perfume briskly overpowered the musk of the room, his heart beat a snare’s rhythm against his inflating lungs. She flicked him with her finger, too firmly to be an accident, and then walked away.

  “Maybe I should move to France,” Will muttered quietly to himself.

  Another twenty minutes and fifty years of history passed as Franklin led the group through the rooms on the second floor. Eventually, they all ended up back down beneath the bell tower where the tour wrapped.

  “Thank you all so much for joining me today. Please be careful in the heat and drive safely,” Franklin concluded.

  People thanked Franklin individually, and paused at the door to readjust to the blinding sunlight. The French girl lithely shimmied between the bodies and slipped out the door. Will saw her tousled skirt vanish into the light. He hastily made his way through the crowd, which had huddled around the door. Behind him, he could hear Franklin taking more questions. Those in a thick German accent caught his ear as he muscled through to the exit.

  “Herr Franklin, we are looking for a hotel on High Street. Do you know one?” the older German asked.

  “Yes, there are several adjacent to the Convention Center. The Reading Terminal Market is just near that, a great place for lunch if you’re in town visiting,” Franklin answered helpfully.

  “High Street?” the old German responded. “I meant to say Market Street, Herr Franklin. It hasn’t been called High Street for over two hundred years.”

  Will pushed by the middle-aged couples. After excusing himself as he forced his way through their indecisive steps, he eventually got a handle on the door and strode through, hoping to create an encounter with the girl.

  He squinted through the golden rays, and scanned the crowd in the square. She had completely disappeared, but her perfume still hung like an apparition in the air. Will scratched his chin with a puzzled look.

  Two menacing figures rushed past him, the larger Germans. Both lifted designer sunglasses to their faces as they frantically searched for contacts on their phones.

  “Der Unsterbliche ist hier, Independence Hall,” one rattled off into the receiver.

  Both the immediacy in their tone and the hastiness with which they hung up caused concern. Will’s German was pretty rusty. It’d been three years since his last class, but apparently some proper noun was at his location.

  The door of the Hall rocked open and Franklin emerged. He shifted on to his cane and set out over the weathered bricks. Across the adjacent street was a coffee shop towards which he strolled. Observing the refreshing mirage behind a wavy veil of heat, Will set off in the same direction.

  Cold conditioned air blasted the sweat off Will’s brow. He crowded in among a dozen other panting patrons, doggedly waiting in line for further reprieve. At a corner table a beaming visage caught his notice. The frisky little French girl’s eyes peeked over the brim of her coffee cup. Their glances locked for a second. He then looked up at the menu, pretending to concentrate on its options. With another brief glimpse, Will saw her stand up, swerve around the table’s edge, and walk right for him. Again he focused on the menu board behind the counter.

  The girl moved confidently across the floor, approaching within a few feet of Will’s periphery. Both of her arms mobilized from her sides and lifted up. Will’s torso rotated when she appeared to be about to attack him with affection. She took one hopping leap with arms outstretched and threw herself into the embrace of the man standing behind Will. His heart stopped as he twisted around. She was hugging the Franklin impersonator.

  “Papa!”

  “Hello, darling,” Franklin replied. “Welcome home. How was your trip?”

  “Wonderful! I dispatched something for you and some Margaux for Thomas while I was there,” she exclaimed. “Did you get it?”

  “Well aren’t you thoughtful. No, not yet,” Franklin said with adoration.

  The sweat returned to Will’s brow, leaking out from utterly demolishing disappointment. His whole body slouched and his face went dumb.

  “What can I get for you, sir?”

  Will looked up blankly at the barista, “Ahh, medium…coffee. Coffee please.”

  He then dragged himself down to the end of the bar to wait for his drink, and watched Franklin chat with his supposed daughter. Will wasn’t sure why he ordered hot coffee either, and didn’t remember until he seared his hand around the cup.

  To All Brave, Healthy, Able Bodied, And Well Disposed Young Men, Take Notice

  Will remained in the café just long enough to cool his coffee with some milk. Having fallen far short of a temporary release from the elements, he again submitted himself to the heat. Still under the shade of the trees, he scanned the streets without plan or aim.

  Franklin and the French girl emerged in a fit of giggles and made off down the sidewalk. Behind them the two big Germans reappeared, lurking underneath their dark sunglasses. One tilted his head to the other, motioning in the direction of Franklin and the girl. They moved to within a watchful distance and then stalked the odd couple as inconspicuously as they could.

  Will cocked his head with worry. After an hour of patriotic quotations and imagery, some martial sentiment took control of his mind. He unconsciously followed suit.

  Unaware, Franklin and his daughter strolled merrily down the bricks and turned the corner between a set of historic home markers. The giddy pair weaved around sweet-smelling hedges and wrought iron gates. With no one else around in the ancient setting, it was almost like glimpsing a happy spirit dancing through his native neighborhood.

  However, two bulky creatures loomed in the narrow alley, hunting down the friendly specter and his lovely companion. The sun hadn’t sunk low enough to give away their shadows ahead of their steps, so they glided stealthily into gradually tightening passages. Grander avenues and public structures gave way to the cart-width residential streets of old.

  Will edged up to a lamp post and looked around. A block ahead, the Germans were creeping steadily along the sidewa
lk, shaded by the overhang of trees and houses. They coursed in and out of the golden rays that trickled down in streams through the obstructions.

  Franklin and the girl turned into a small alley and evaded sight. The Germans quickened their stride. Will maneuvered around a mailbox and crossed the street. Trying not to look absurdly covert, he skipped behind a row of parked cars and jumped over the curb. Upon landing he saw the Germans halt. Will ducked behind an SUV just as they turned to look back.

  Will leaned up against the vehicle’s back bumper, crouching out of sight. His normally steady hands were shaking. His knees quaked the same way, and his athletic blood ripped through his tingling limbs. He looked down at himself, leery eyed, and started shaking his head. A nervous sneer formed.

  “What am I doing?” he mouthed to himself.

  He waited in silence for a long minute, trying to quietly slow his breath. The sound of footsteps never resumed. Besides buzzing insects, the air was hushed. Carefully, he inched upwards, steadied himself against the car, and peered through the rear window. No movement caught his attention through the tinted glass. His anxious eyes darted in search of the predators.

  He slid up against the car’s hatch and around the side. No disturbances surfaced except the ambient sounds of summer. With more confidence, he stood fully and leaned over to gaze down