The Legend of...

Adrienne’s heels clacked against the polished floor as she moved to confront Franklin. She had swept her gaze across the other figures in the lobby, but not recognizing any of them, she zeroed in on the only familiar face.

For Franklin, the sight of the woman angrily marching towards him was surreal. He had only ever seen her across a crowded club floor, kneeling or simpering as she played the part of a leashed pet. The woman who was approaching him now looked far more likely to claw his eyes out than kneel.

“Where are we? How did you bring me here?” The woman’s questions came one after another, more accusations than inquiries.

Franklin held up his hands, taking a step back. “Whoa, I didn’t bring you here.”

“You’re the only person here I’ve ever seen before, and this isn’t Obsidian. Do you think I’m stupid enough to think you’re uninvolved?” Adrienne's hands were balled into fists as she advanced.

“I didn’t say that. I was brought here, too, and I don’t know how,” Franklin explained. “I’m not the one choosing people to bring here!”

“Where is here?” Adrienne asked, skepticism still clear in her voice.

“I’m not entirely sure, but… a game show?” Franklin admitted. Receiving only an angry stare from the multicolored-haired woman, he elaborated. “A magic game show that can teleport people and, for some reason, has chosen to use that power to bring a bunch of women here to… set me up with them.”

Adrienne scowled, “Look, just because you’ve seen me indulging in certain… behaviors at the club, doesn’t mean that I’m going to believe such a ridiculous story and play along with your bullshit fantasy.”

Growing frustrated, Franklin turned to Terra. “Shouldn’t you have jumped in to do your whole spiel by now?”

The blonde host feigned indignation, “I assumed you would be able to handle one unruly pet, Master Porter.” She then turned to Adrienne and continued, “Welcome, Miss Ainsleigh, I am Terra. As the Host of this season of Harem Hotel, I can assure you that while this is certainly a fantasy for many, it is very real.”

The angry woman rounded on Terra, “How do you know my real name? I don’t use it at Obsidian. Did Routh set this up?”

“Oh, heavens no,” Terra said with disgust. “We’d never let that lout anywhere near Harem Hotel. Not when our audience has taken such care to find a much better candidate for your owner in dear Franklin, here.”

“If you know so much about me, you should know that I’m not looking for lifestyle submission,” Adrienne said, before she looked around to see if one of the numerous doors in the lobby looked like an exit, only to find that they were all a uniform size and design.

“I think you might not be being honest with yourself there, Miss Ainsleigh, but don’t worry. Harem Hotel specializes in helping our guests find the right balance in expressing and indulging their desires,” Terra said enigmatically.

Adrienne decided that any door would do over listening to more of the host’s drivel. She was halfway across the lobby before her body froze, and she found herself slowly turning around and jerkily walking back over to Franklin and Terra. As she passed the seated women, they watched the confusion on her face turn to fear.

***

Kennedy flinched as she saw the distress on the other woman’s face. She had witnessed Ira’s panic from up close as well and could sense the emotions running high in the women around her. She turned to the short-haired blonde on the couch with her and Ira, “Is anyone here actually… involved with Franklin?”

Trudy sighed and whispered back, “I don’t think so. The one in the glasses is an ex, and I guess her too,” she said, indicating the other blonde in the red dress.

“Oh,” Kennedy let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. She wasn’t naïve enough to believe that what she and Franklin had been doing was the grounds for an exclusive relationship. Not only had the distance been great, but the man had been up front about what he was looking for. Still, she couldn’t help but admit that instead of shock and fear, she had felt something very different when she realized where she was and who she was with.

She and Franklin had never done a session with cams, although Kennedy had been increasingly building up to the idea, but she still had a vivid picture of what she imagined Franklin looked like from his description. When they’d come face to face, she was stunned by the accuracy of her mind’s eye. Even if she knew it was probably retroactive memory interference, she had been flooded with scenes of drifting off under his watchful, piercing gaze.

I’m sure I’m not what he was expecting though, she thought as her hands gripped her knees through the fancy pink dress in which she had been adorned. She was bold enough to use a drawing that was visually reminiscent of herself in her profile, but was well aware that she wasn’t as soft, smooth, and feminine as the image she chased online.

But if what the Host had said was true, that might not always be the case, and if none of the other women were truly interested in Franklin, then maybe she had a chance?

***

Terra added a speech bubble next to the X mark she had written by Adrienne’s name. How is it the petgirl is the most difficult to get with the program? she thought. “Your introduction, if you please? Speak, girl.”

“My name is Adrienne Ainsleigh, I’m 26 years old, and I work as a junior associate attorney at a law firm in Minneapolis. I frequent the same fetish club as Franklin, where I enjoy indulging in pet play.” Her face grew increasingly red as the words were **** out. “On Wednesday, I had doggy-style sex with my boss after we left Obsidian earlier than usual.”

Terra absorbed the anger and embarrassment being sent her way and said, “As you can see, Miss Ainsleigh, holding back and being difficult only delays the inevitable. I’m sure the audience will help you grow more comfortable soon, but for now, you can join your fellow contestants. I trust you can walk over and have a seat under your own power?”

The Host crossed out both symbols, and Adrienne briefly fell to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. Franklin stepped over to offer her a hand, and after searching his face in the wake of her ordeal, she took it. Gathering herself and taking a deep breath, she walked over and took the far end of the couch that Dara occupied. She kept her head down, not wanting to make eye contact with any of the women who had watched her struggle.

Terra checked the new page of notes that appeared as the recent vote elapsed, and sighed. Well, this should be a disaster. Not letting her consternation show, she smiled brightly at Franklin and announced, “Our cast is nearly complete, Master Porter. Ready for a look at your next potential soulmate? I can assure you, she’s a real princess.”

____________________________________________________________________________________

November 19, 2006

The snow outside wasn't the kind from Christmas cards; it was a wet, clinging sort that melted against the windowpanes, making the world beyond the glass blurry and indistinct. Franklin pressed his nose against the cold, fogging a small circle and watching it vanish. Inside, the house smelled of cinnamon from the candles Nadia liked to burn, and something else, something electric and expectant.

"It's just a little dusting," Walter said, his voice calm as he zipped up his jacket by the front door. "I'll be back in twenty minutes, thirty tops. Flo knows better than to stay out in this."

Nadia stood in the archway between the living room and the hall, one hand resting on the enormous curve of her belly. "You should have just taken her to the mall instead of letting her sneak out and try to bike there in this weather." Her tone was tight with frustration.

"Her mother had already ordered the game online, Nadia. She doesn't need two copies." Walter sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "It's not a blizzard. I'll find her and Trudy at the GameStop, probably arguing with the clerk. Just… don't do anything strenuous."

"Right," Nadia said, her expression unreadable. "I'll just float in the corner and think light thoughts."

Walter hesitated, then crossed to her, giving her a quick, awkward kiss on the cheek. "Call my cell. If anything feels weird, anything at all, call."

"I will."

The door clicked shut behind him, and the sudden silence felt loud.

Franklin turned from the window. "Is Flo going to be in trouble?"

"A great deal of it," Nadia said, "but only after we make sure she's safe." She started to waddle toward the kitchen. "Come on, Frank. Let's make some hot chocolate. It'll give your father something warm to come home to."

They were at the kitchen island, Franklin meticulously placing marshmallows into three mugs, when Nadia made a small sound. Not a gasp, not a cry, just a soft, "Oh."

Franklin looked up from the floating marshmallows. "What?"

She was leaning against the counter, her face pale, her hands pressed flat against the laminate top. "Nothing. Just… a twinge." She tried to smile, but her eyes were wide. "Braxton Hicks, probably. The doctor said they'd start feeling more real."

"Who's he?" Franklin asked, reaching for another marshmallow.

Nadia let out a shaky laugh that turned into a hiss of breath. "He… they're… Frank, could you go grab my phone?"

The phone was on the charger in the living room. Franklin retrieved it, a slick, silver flip thing he wasn't allowed to touch. He ran back to the kitchen.

Nadia had slid into one of the dining chairs, her knees pressed together. She took the phone from him with fingers that didn't seem to want to close properly. Her breathing was shallow.

"Is it the baby?" Franklin asked, a knot of ice forming in his stomach. He knew about babies. He knew they came out. He didn't know they did it with noises like that.

"It's a little earlier than planned, is all," Nadia managed, her thumb fumbling over the buttons. She brought the phone to her ear. "Walter? Pick up, pick up, pick up…" The silence stretched, and then a tinny voicemail message. "Damn it," she whispered, snapping the phone shut. "Okay. Okay, plan B."

"What's plan B?"

"Plan B is the hospital bag," she said, pushing herself up with a groan. "I packed it last week. It's in our closet. I need you to bring it to me. And your coat."

Franklin didn't argue. He ran up the stairs, his socks slipping on the wood. In the master bedroom, the closet door was open. There, leaning against the wall like a tired soldier, was a bright purple duffel bag. It was heavier than it looked. He dragged it out, the handle creaking in his small hand. He grabbed his puffy blue winter coat from the hook on the back of the door.

When he got back downstairs, Nadia was by the front door, shrugging on her own coat with pained, jerky movements. She held the car keys in one hand. Her face was beaded with sweat despite the cold.

"Good boy, Frank. Just… put it by the door." She took a deep breath, held it, and let it out in a rush. "We're going to drive to the hospital. It's not far. You're going to help me, okay?"

He nodded, a lump in his throat. "Where's Dad?"

"I can't get ahold of him. The reception is probably spotty. Don't worry. I've driven in snow before. We'll go slow."

Getting her into the car was a slow, careful process. She left the engine running while he struggled to hoist the purple bag into the back seat. The world outside the car was a swirl of white, the driveway barely visible. Nadia gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles white. Each breath was a small, focused effort.

"Just talk to me, Frank," she said as they finally pulled onto the street, the tires crunching through the slush. "Tell me about school."

"It was… okay." Franklin stared out the window. "We made turkeys out of our handprints. Mine was green."

"A green turkey," she repeated, her voice strained. "That's… creative. Very creative." She gasped as a contraction rolled through her, the car swerving slightly before she corrected it. "Okay. Green turkey. Tell me more."

Franklin looked from her white face to the empty roads. They passed the small convenience store on the corner, its neon OPEN sign a blurry splotch of color in the gray morning. The world felt muffled and strange.

He thought of Flo, probably warm and dry inside the mall, arguing with her friend Trudy about who got to play the Wii demo first. He thought of his dad, driving around, growing more worried by the minute. And here he was, in the passenger seat, the adult.

"Ms. Albright said my handwriting is getting better," he said, trying to make his voice normal. "She said it's almost as good as Flo's."

"That's… wonderful," Nadia breathed. She was hunched over the wheel now. "Frank, honey, I need you to do something. The glove compartment. Open it."

Inside was a small leather planner. "In the front pocket," she said through clenched teeth. "There's a piece of paper. It has my doctor's number on it."

Franklin fumbled it out. The name Dr. Evans was typed neatly on it.

"When we get there, I might need you to run inside and tell a nurse or doctor that we’re here so they can come help me, OK?” Nadia asked the young boy.

Franklin stared at the piece of paper, at the simple black letters. His heart hammered against his ribs. The world outside the car seemed to shrink, the snowy streets becoming a tunnel.

"O…OK.”

The hospital finally appeared, a sprawling beige complex that rose out of the white landscape like a beached whale. Nadia pulled into the emergency drop-off lane, the car sliding a little before stopping. She leaned her forehead against the steering wheel, her breath fogging the plastic.

"Okay. Okay. Let's get inside." Nadia said before being rocked by another contraction. Franklin unbuckled his seat and ran into the emergency room, the paper in his hands. He saw a woman behind a desk with glasses on a chain.

"Excuse me," he said. He was short, and the desk was tall. "My stepmom is having a baby and she needs a doctor."

The woman looked down at him, surprised. "A baby? Are you sure, sweetie?"

"Yes," Franklin said firmly. "Her name is Nadia Porter and she needs a doctor named Dr. Evans. She's in the car."

The woman picked up a phone and spoke into it in a calm, professional way. Within seconds, two nurses with a wheelchair were rushing past him out the automatic doors. Franklin stood by the desk, clutching the paper, and watched them help Nadia out of the car and into the wheelchair. He saw her face, pinched and white, and for a moment he was scared all over again.

A nurse stayed with him as the other wheeled Nadia away. "Okay, champ," she said, her name tag read 'Megan'. "We need to get some information. Can you tell me your dad's name?"

Franklin wasn't listening, as he noticed that his stepmother wasn't holding her bag. He ran back out the door to the car, the nurse following after him, and pulled the heavy duffel bag out of the back seat. The bag was almost as big as he was, and the handle slipped in his hands, the heavy bag falling on the slushy ground with a wet thump. "It's okay," the nurse said, "I've got it." She effortlessly picked up the bag and led him back inside, her boots squeaking on the clean floor.

"Can you tell me your dad's name?" she asked again, pulling out a clipboard. Franklin stood there in his oversized coat, dripping water onto the linoleum floor.

"Walter Porter," he said. "He's looking for my sister, Flo. She went to the mall to get a video game."

"A video game," the nurse repeated, her smile gentle. "Of course." She wrote something down. "And what's your name, sweetie?"

"Franklin."

"Franklin, we're going to take good care of your mom, okay? She's in good hands."

She led him down a long hallway and into a small room with a bed, where Nadia was already in a hospital gown, her face turned to the wall. "I brought your bag," Franklin said.

Nadia turned her head, her hair damp with sweat. "Oh, Frank. You're so good. Thank you." She held out her hand, and Franklin took it. Her fingers were cold and clammy.

A doctor came in, a woman with short, graying hair and a no-nonsense demeanor. "Hello, Nadia. I'm Dr. Evans. We spoke on the phone. It seems your little one is in a hurry."

"I'm so sorry," Nadia said. "My husband is out…"

"We'll page him," Dr. Evans said. "For now, let's just focus on you and the baby."

They bustled around her, attaching monitors and starting an IV. Franklin stood by the bed, holding her hand, feeling helpless and small. He watched the green line on the monitor jump and fall with each beat of the baby's heart.

"It's going to be okay," he said, not sure if he was talking to Nadia or to himself.

He sat in the plastic chair by the window for what felt like a long time, watching the snow fall outside. He could hear Nadia's breathing, sometimes quick and sharp, sometimes slow and deep. He could hear the quiet murmur of the nurses' voices. He thought about his dad, and he thought about Flo. He thought about green turkeys and video games, and anything he could to try to avoid worrying.

Then he heard a new sound. A phone ringing. He looked up. It was Nadia's flip phone, which the nurse had placed on the bedside table. Franklin picked it up, the plastic cool against his palm. He saw the caller ID: WALTER.

He looked over at Nadia, who was in the middle of a contraction, her face screwed up in a mask of pain. She couldn't answer. He had to.

He took a deep breath and flipped the phone open. "Hello?"

"Frank? What are you doing with Nadia's phone?" His dad's voice was tinny and full of static, but it was the best sound Franklin had ever heard.

"Dad! Nadia's having the baby!"

There was a pause. "What?"

"She's having the baby! We're at the hospital. We drove ourselves. You need to come here."

"Is she okay? Are you okay?" His dad's voice was rising in panic.

"We're okay. The doctors are here. They're taking care of her."

"I'm on my way. I'm leaving the mall right now. I found Flo. She's fine. I'm on my way."

The line went dead. Franklin closed the phone and placed it back on the table. He had done it. He had helped.

He didn't know how much later it was when the door to the room burst open and his dad came in, his cheeks red from the cold, a frantic look in his eyes. He was followed by Flo, who looked small and scared, her puffy coat making her look like a blue marshmallow.

"Nadia," Walter said, rushing to the bed. "Oh, Nadia."

Franklin watched as his dad took over, holding Nadia's hand, murmuring words of encouragement. He felt a strange sense of relief, like a heavy weight had been lifted from his small shoulders. He was no longer the only one in charge.

Flo shuffled over to him and stood by his chair, not looking at the bed. "Did you drive?" she whispered.

"No," Franklin said. "Nadia drove."

"Was it scary?"

Franklin thought for a moment. "A little."

***

A couple of hours later, Franklin and Flo were sitting in the waiting room, playing tic tac toe on a piece of scratch paper a nurse had given them, when their father came out to bring them to say hello to their new sibling. He led them down the hallway, and Franklin was surprised at the quiet, the calm. The storm in the delivery room was over.

Nadia was in a different room now, propped up against a pile of white pillows. She looked exhausted, her hair stuck to her forehead with sweat, but she was smiling. And in her arms, wrapped in a pink blanket, was a tiny, scrunched-up face.

"Come meet your sister," Nadia said, her voice soft and raspy.

Franklin and Flo crept closer to the bed. Flo stood back, her hands shoved in her pockets, but Franklin leaned in, trying to get a better look. The baby was smaller than he'd imagined, with a dusting of dark hair and a nose that was just a little button. Her eyes were closed.

"She's so little," Franklin breathed.

"She is," Walter said, "a couple of weeks early. I guess she didn't want to wait, just like her sister." The man pulled his daughter into a hug, wanting to keep the moment a happy one even after everything that happened.

Flo wriggled out of his grasp but stayed where she was, her eyes fixed on the baby. "She's wrinkly," she said, but there wasn't any meanness in her voice, just a statement of fact.

Nadia laughed, a tired, breathy sound. "All brand-new people are wrinkly. Would you like to hold her, Flo?"

Flo hesitated, then shook her head. "Maybe later."

"What about you, Frank?" Nadia asked, looking at him. "Do you want to say hello?"

He did. He wanted to more than anything. He carefully sat on the edge of the bed, and Nadia shifted the baby into the crook of his arm. The baby was warm and solid, a surprising weight. She smelled like milk and clean laundry. He stared down at her, at the tiny fingernails and the way her little mouth was shaped like an 'o'.

"Hi," he whispered. The baby's eyelids fluttered, and for a second, he saw a flash of light brown. "Hi, baby."

He thought about everything that had happened that morning. The snow, the rush, the fear, the drive, the waiting room. He thought about Flo, and her video game.

And then he knew.

"She's a baby girl," he said, looking up at Nadia and Walter, a sudden certainty filling him. "So she needs a name."

Nadia smiled. "She does. We were thinking of names, but we haven't decided on one for sure."

Franklin looked down at the tiny, wrinkled face in his arms. "She wanted to be born today, and we've all been on an adventure to see her. You should name her..." ____________________________________________________________________________________

“Zelda?” Franklin asked, stunned.

____________________________________________________________________________________

“Ha!” Vee cried out in triumph. “Looks like the younger sister was the better pick after all. I guess you could call me an Oracle of Ages!”

Dee scowled, “That vignette was certainly a Link to the Past. Are you sure we shouldn’t have shown something a bit more… recent?”

“Not every introductory vignette needs to be set in a fetish club, bro,” the red Imp responded. “I thought it was sweet. Little Franklin was the one to come up with the name!”

“I guess young Ms. Porter should count herself lucky that she was born into a Nintendo family. She could have ended up named Sonic the Hedgehog,” Dee mused.

Vee cringed, “That would be a strange season. At least it would probably go fast.”

“OK, Wind Wanker, you know where this leaves us, yes?” Dee stared at his brother as he started piling the unused folders on the desk.

“I believe it leaves us at four contestants each, bro.” Vee smiled proudly at his comeback.

“Quite,” Dee spat, “Though only thanks to our little role-players’ tie. I think you’ll find that my candidates were chosen in four out of the seven polls.”

Vee rolled his eyes so hard that he hovered out of his chair. “Yeah yeah, you can keep stroking your technicality boner while my half of the cast leaves yours in the dust.”

Dee’s face curled into a pleased sneer, “Oh, I won’t have to, brother. It seems the audience was also discontented with the results.

The red Imp sighed, “You mean?”

“Well over half the audience simply couldn’t pass up the opportunity for just one more contestant. It seems that several of our options were enticing enough to have them willing to see someone cast aside at the end of the opening round.” The blue Imp breathed in deep, like he could taste the drama in the air. “Temptation and greed, simply delicious.”

Pouting, Vee asked, “So, how do we do this? Just one big ranking of all thirteen candidates?”

Dee shook his head, “No, that will almost certainly guarantee a middle-of-the-pack contestant rises over more divisive but entertaining options. I say we let each voter give their support to up to three candidates, and take whichever has the most nods overall.”

Scratching his chin, Vee considered the proposal, “Only their personal top three candidates benefit, but they can still spread the love? Or only pick one or two if they’re willing to risk it, I guess.”

“Exactly,” Dee responded, “Now who all do we have for them to peruse? In case they need a reminder.”

Vee started listing off the candidates. “Well, in the former flames vote, Dara won over Georgia Grant, the Master’s most recent hook up, and Sloane Murray, who you call his last long-term relationship. Then, for coworkers, we had a pair of MILFs, Collette Lavigne and Ruth Devereux, who lost out to Lyra. Platonic friends saw Trudy beat out Bernadette Hobbes, the Master’s clubbing buddy, and Jacqueline Martin, his childhood friend.”

Dee continued where he left off. “Claudia dominated her competition in the rivals category, though Clover Bellecourt, the environmental activist, and MBA classmate Jordyn Washinton offered some fun options. Then, of course, the tie left poor roleplay partner TakenByU as the odd woman out. The penultimate vote had Pet, or Adrienne Ainsleigh, beat out fetish club owner Lavinia Mairesse and bartender Paola Diaz.”

“And of course, Zelda beat her older sister, Florence, and the heiress Evie Haverbrook for the 8th spot!” finished the red Imp.

Dee frowned, “Hmm, that does leave you with seven candidates to my six, doesn’t it?”

“You really wanna make it a big thing out of that?” Vee whined. “We have to get this show on the road.”

Dee huffed, but finally agreed, “Fine, I’ll throw the stapler on the ballot, just so that nudibranch can stop smashing his keyboard about it.”

Laughing, Vee gave a thumbs up. “Vote at the link below to add your support for 1-3 contestants in our Second Chance Poll!”

Vote here for Contestant 9: The Second Chance

Voting is now closed.