#53 The Bathtub - An Seomra Folctha

Lyle finished work before me but when I got home there was no one in the cabin. She must have taken Frankie somewhere I wagered. Thinking nothing of it I went into the kitchen and fired up the old gas stove. Pouring oil into the sizzling pan I paused at the sound of rustling on the other end of the wall.

Maybe Lyle was home after all. I turned off the stove top and rounded the corner to the bathroom door. It was shut and I knocked once for warning while calling her name.

No answer, but the rustling continued, more like a soft pounding sound.

In normal circumstances I wouldn't have paid much attention to it or hesitated with my hand on the door knob. But these were uncertain times and without consciously trying to my mind reverted to a paranoid state. Was Monroe here? Smith and Jones?

Had they somehow heard Lyle and I's conversation and our intent to relaunch our fight against Monroe.

Where was Lyle? Was she hurt?

Oh god. What should I do?

Calling the police didn't seem like a viable option for me ever since the run in at Beth and Ivy's house.

Grace, Tony?

They were only a jog away but did I have enough time? And if I did convince them to come over wouldn't I have to explain why I was so worried? I still wasn't ready to do that.

Rushing back into the kitchen I grabbed the pan I'd been using. The metal warmed my hand but not so much that it was uncomfortable.

With a shaky grip I flung open the door and swung the pan above my head with all the intention of knocking unconscious whoever was hiding. I halted midair, the pan poised over my head as my eyes locked with the person who had infiltrated my home. A drop of oil dripped onto my head as I lowered the pan in confusion.

In my bathroom – actually sitting in the bathtub – was Frankie. His lanky frame was scrunched inside the thick ceramic walls that he lined with pillows and balled up jackets. In front of him sat a paper thin computer perched on his thighs and connected to it a cord leading up to his headphones. That's what the thumping had been I concluded dumbly as more of the tones traveled through the material. Frankie was listening to a loud techno beat with his eyes glued to the computer before him.

It took a few moments for my heart rate to lower as I stood in the doorway. Gradually Frankie looked up and smiled at me.

"Oh hi May!" His uneven teeth stuck out from his lips as he shifted his headphones from his ears, then after looking around at the bathroom. "What's the pan for? This space double as a kitchen?"

Embarrassment didn't touch my features as I narrowed my eyes at the man who looked as though he'd been stretched like a piece of laffy taffy. "Why are you in my bath tub?"

"This is where I work best." He stated simply. "It's the tub, the acoustics are mental."

My mouth formed an 'o' shape and I raised my eyebrows as if his explanation was perfectly logical. Frankie didn't seem to notice my mockery of his statement as he turned back to his computer.

"Where is Lyle?"

"She went out to get me the necessities."

"The necessities?"

"Can't work without 'em." His voice grew quiet as he trailed off.

Frankie's fingers typed furiously on the keyboard and I inched a few steps toward him to try and sneak a peek at what he was up to. Coming to sit on the closed lid of the toilet I lay the pot on my lap and leaned over his shoulder.

"So what is this?" I asked waving my finger at the dark screen.

The background was black with white lettering that I didn't recognize to be in any particular order, but to Frankie it seemed important as he added several new lines a minute.

"Finishing up an old job." He mumbled as his head bobbed to the music pounding in his right ear.

"What kind of job?"

Frankie didn't answer and I wondered if 'job' held the same meaning to Frankie as it did to Lyle when she explained how she came to be at White Pine. Not that I was surprised - why wouldn't Lyle have friends involved in other illegal activities?

The strange part was that I wasn't even the slightest bit worried about housing two minor criminals. The safest I ever felt was with Lyle, and if she trusted Frankie enough to bring him here then I would extend my own hand to him.

I was more intrigued than scared. Very little about Lyle's childhood – or adult hood for that matter – crossed into our conversations. I tried to be patient, let her share at her own pace. But I was impatient by nature and more than willing to meet her halfway. Perhaps Frankie could give me the materials to do so.

As the idea spun in my head the light I thought was extinguished by Monroe grew in vibrancy. Curiosity burning slowly at the end of the candles wick. Gasping for oxygen.

"How do you and Lyle know each other?"

My question sparked Frankie's interest as he twisted around from his seat in the tub.

"Oh we go waaaay back," He replied waving his arms to illustrate just how far back the two of them went. "Lyle and I went to the same high school, saw each other everyday until-" He paused. "You know- and then she moved in with Beth and Ivy and -"

Before he could continue I cut him off. "I don't know. What happened?" I pressed leaning forward but Frankie's short attention span was snared by the click of the front door opening.

"Frankie I got your stuff." Lyle called.

Announcing herself made no difference. From the open bathroom door we both had a perfect view of the front door where Lyle stood holding three bulging plastic sacks. Frankie didn't need the announcement either as he shot up from his fort inside the tub nearly tackling Lyle as he relieved her of the bags. Just as quickly he returned to the bathroom where I hoped to continue our conversation now that Lyle was here to cover her half of the story.

Disregarding our talk Frankie avoided my eyes as he focused on a box of Twinkies he'd dug up from the bag. Using his teeth he ripped open a package and downed the two treats in less than a minute. In horror I watched as he did the same to three more packages until he'd gone through the entire box.

"These are the necessities?" I turned to Lyle who wore a broad smile as she watched me react to Frankie's eating habits.

"C'mon let's give him some room." She waved me on.

I picked up my pan to which Lyle raised an eyebrow but didn't ask.

Per Frankie's request we closed the bathroom door so he could work in privacy. If either of us needed to use the bathroom we would have to make the trek into the main house.

"I have plenty of food in here." I complained as I turned the oven on and rummaged through the refrigerator.

"May, I think I saw an actual fly come out of the fridge the other day. There is nothing in there." She laughed grabbing out two plates.

"You are making that up." I placed my hands on my hips and began to pout. "There's jam and some fruit and.." I trailed off. She was right as usual. My fridge was never full, or even moderately stocked for that matter – but that didn't mean the fly story was true.

"Besides Frankie thinks you're too healthy – his words not mine - and you're lack of junk food is really brining him down." She shrugged. "I know he is a little odd, but trust me if there is anything out of order in Monroe's world – financial or otherwise – he'll find it."

Two days ago, before Lyle called Frankie we outlined our plan loosely. The intention was to delve into Monroe's financial ventures hoping to find a slip up. A bribe, tax evasion, anything that could create negative press around him maybe causing him to lose his job and best case scenario go to jail. Karma was acting too slow so Lyle, Frankie, and I would have to help nudge her in the right direction.

"How much did you tell him?" I poured two ladles of batter onto the pan.

"The whole story. All the important parts at least. I trust him." She paused. "May, are you sure you're ok with this?" She turned to me with a tinge of worry in her voice. "Trying to catch Monroe - I know we talked about it I just want to make sure you aren't having second thoughts because we can wait if it's too much right now."

"I'm ok." I flipped the cakes then took a deep breath before shifting to meet Lyle's freckled eyes. "I'll be better when we get the son of a bitch."

-

introducing Frankie, one of my favorite characters (: