Joke's on Who

[François Laffont]

Franck was pretty sure this was a joke. On him or the other boy? Now that was the question. Yet, despite that, there was still a chance this note really should reach him. Maybe he should have read it, to know for sure. Only Franck could not do that to something so personal. He was still somehow certain he was just about to send a blank message or one where it was written something as witty as ah-ha on it.

Who was called Patch Adams anyway? Franck was not stupid, he figured it was a nickname. It was still an odd one and he was curious as to what it was supposed to refer to. Cannot be because of his name, like Franck for François. Did he like patchwork? That sounded even more ridiculous. Oh well.

There were a few people in the cafeteria, just as many potential people for being this patch person. Franck had been given a vague description and told he should be in there but it seemed like he would need more to efficiently deliver this note. Why that person couldn’t send it themselves again? Right, they said they were in a hurry, nearly pleaded Franck. If they wanted to play a prank on them, that sure was the way to have Franck go after that guy to deliver the note. Kudos for getting that much. Now...

Franck felt like it would almost be easier to pick someone at random. Eeny, meeny, miny... Patch? That’s what he’d find out. “Hmm... Patch?” Franck asked as he reached a table. A guy was sitting there, one who could fit the description. Franck dared to sit in front of him. “I’m sorry, it’s just... I’ve been told to give this to a guy named Patch. They must have figured I’d know him,” he explained with a sheepish expression on his face, showing the note in question. A little piece of paper that had been folded in two with the word Patch written on it.