A History Lesson

"howdy, danny boy. what's on the menu tonight?" cardigan greeted his friend as he entered the pub.

"ants climbing a tree, per miss sierra's request."

"bring it on, danny. bring it on." he took the proferred beer and walked over to join the others. "what's going on--oh, hello." cardigan noticed the odd newcomer among the regular gang. "uh...i'm gavin cardigan."

the white-haired, elderly gentleman dressed in an old-fashioned black suit and white-laced shirt rose to shake his hand. "benjamin franklin, sir. it's a pleasure."

cardigan blinked, then nodded. "you're a pretty good actor. but what's the occassion?"

sierra spoke up. "he's not an actor. that really is benjamin franklin."

taylor nodded. "we were discussing american history. i said that benjamin franklin wanted the turkey as the symbol of america instead of the eagle, but marian didn't believe me. so, the Lurker conjured him to prove i'm right."

"i didn't conjure him," the Lurker corrected him. "i simply suggested that we ask him, and then he walked in."

blake delivered cardigan's food and a pair of bamboo chopsticks. "it's true. she didn't cast any spells or wiggle her ears or anything like that."

"wiggle my ears?" the Lurker casts bright blue eyes at blake, smiling. "you must have been watching me closely, danny. and besides, i can't wiggle my ears. i'm not an elf."

"i can," taylor noted, and wiggled his ears to demonstrate.

sierra giggled, and marian rolled her eyes.

"the truth is," mr. franklin broke in, "that i didn't actually want the turkey as the symbol."

cardigan slurped noodles into his mouth, then said, "but it's impossible for you to be here!"

"apparently, sir, you are mistaken, for here i am. dammit!" he was having difficulty with the chopsticks. "bring me a fork, barman! i can't use these blasted things."

"it's a blog," marian explained. "it's not real. we're not real. actually, he's the only real person here, even though he's dead."

"i am most certainly not dead, young lady!" mr. franklin declared. "though i might starve to death if somebody doesn't bring me a fork."

"i'll get it, mr. franklin," taylor said, promptly tripping over his stool and crashing to the floor.

ben franklin shook his head. "i may yet starve, it seems."

blake walked over with a fork. "here you go, mr. franklin."

"thank you, barman. yours remains the most constant of professions, it seems."

"mr. franklin, you were about to explain that i was right?" marian asked, after helping taylor back to his seat.

"not exatly, young lady. you see, i did suggest the turkey as a better emblem for our country than the cowardly, and ubiquitous, eagle. but that does not mean that i wanted the turkey, either."

"then what did you prefer, sir?" asked the Lurker.

"the beaver."

"the beaver?" cardigan was incredulous.

"that is correct, sir. clever little creatures, beavers. resourceful, inventive, productive."

"all right, that's enough! i've had enough of this!"

everybody turned as a rather determined man stormed into the pub. "where is burkie? he can't continue to distort history like this. it's not right."

sierra said, "he's not here, so we're in charge. and how do you know we're distorting history? maybe he really did feel that way."

"i can assure you that i did, sir." mr. franklin looked through his spectacles at the distraught newcomer. "who are you to judge me?"

the impetuous fellow did not relent. "as a matter of fact, i am a judge. judge st. bishop."

"that is a lot of responsibility, young man. a magistrate, a saint, and a member of the clergy. and now you have appointed yourself a guardian of history." mr. franklin placed some noodles into his mouth with the fork, chewing appreciatively. "you must be very busy. why don't you relax and have some of these excellent ants?"

the judge sniffed. "that does smell good. hey, can i have some ants over here, please?" he turned back to mr. franklin. "but i'm going to have to insist that you return to the past, sir. we can't just rewrite history like this. we have no proof that benjamin franklin would have wanted the beaver as the national emblem."

"you have no proof that i wouldn't have either, i'll wager. besides," he added thoughtfully, "i'm not sure i know how to go back."

"oh, don't worry about that, sir," marian explained. "as soon as this is posted, you'll go back to being dead."

"i am not dead, young lady! how many times must i tell you that?" mr franklin looked not unkindly at her. "if i were dead, then i would be here as a ghost--a shade of my corporeal self. be thankful that i'm not, so you do not have to witness the food traveling down my transluscent gullet."

"ewww," they murmured in unison.

"this is a quite tasty dish, and rather piquant. barman!" he called over to blake. "can you show me how to prepare this? i want to fix it for tommy jefferson. spicy foods give him the most spectacular indigestion."

"no! you can't take ants climbing a tree back to colonial america!" the judge insisted. "and you can't call him 'tommy.' nobody calls thomas jefferson 'tommy.'"

"i've called him worse, believe me. the man is a weasel!"

"perhaps the weasel should've been the national emblem," sierra suggested. "they're good for getting out of trouble."

"how about the squirrel?" said the Lurker. "they're as resourceful as beavers, and they don't need dental work."

"i vote for bats," taylor said. "they have sonar, they can fly, yet they're mammals."

"horses," cardigan offered. "everybody loves horses. they work hard, they're regal, and they make good monuments."

"stop it!" the judge was getting more and more agitated. "you're tainting him and he might go back and change history. you can't even imagine the consequences of changing the national emblem from the eagle to a horse!"

"i wonder how the corgi would perform as the national emblem?" mr. franklin mused. "you know, i tied a kite to the collar of my corgi and sent him out into a thunderstorm to help me discover electricity. it didn't work--i forgot to add the key--but i discovered instead that corgi fur can repel water."

"stop it! stop it!"