Frank looked at Robbie.
“No,” Robbie said.
“No,” Frank spoke to Ben.
“Oh, good.” Ben came in and closed the door.
“What’s up? Is this like official Beginnings business?” Frank asked.
“Yes.”
“Have a seat.” Frank showed Ben a chair. “What’s up?”
“I came to volunteer.”
“For?”
“Bait.”
“Bait?”
“Bait.”
“You mean like fishing bait?”
“Yes.”
“Man, that has to be one big fuckin fish you wanna catch.”
“I hope.”
“Huh?”
Robbie listened, intently, then it hit him. “Ug!” he jumped up. “He . . he . . . oh my God.” He started laughing.
“What?” Frank asked.
“You know what he wants to be bait for? Right?” Robbie asked.
“Fishing.”
“No.”
“No?” Frank turned to Ben. “What are you wanting to be fish for?”
“Well for as endearing as I find dangling from a line in a lake, I’d rather be dangling from the hold of a masculine beast.”
Frank threw out his hands. “I’m lost.”
Robbie decided to clarify. “He doesn’t want Jenny to be the only recipient of the three liters of semen.”
It took a second, and Frank’s face went from lost to shock, he turned to Ben.
Ben gave a flirty smile.
“That’s fuckin sick. He’ll eat you.”
Ben smiled.
“Fuck.” Frank shook his head “No, seriously, he’ll fucking barbeque your ass and eat you.”
“But I don’t believe I produce testosterone,” Ben defended.
Robbie asked ‘Do you have testicles?”
“Yes.”
“Do they work?”
“Yes.”
“Then you do.”
“Maybe he won’t notice.”
Robbie shrugged. “Maybe. What do you think?”
“What do I think?” Frank quipped. “Do I think our monster from the future is fucking gay?”
Ben shook his head. “No, no, not gay. He had Jenny. Bisexual. Like a lot of men in Beginnings.”
Frank held up a finger, stood, walked to the door, opened it and walked out.
“What’s up with him?” Ben asked.
Just as Robbie shrugged, sudden signs of Frank grunts, groans, and oh my fucking God’s, rang out. Then the door opened, and Frank, calmer, walked in and sat down.
“No.”
“But I want to do something, I need to do something. What can I do to find this beast?”
“Maybe I’ll put you on the search party.”
Ben clapped once. “Oh, sounds wonderful. So heroic. Shall I wear a certain cologne.”
Frank’s mouth opened, then his radio hissed. “Thank fucking God.” He lifted his radio. “What’s up, Dan?”
“Frank, you need to come down to town right away. Joe Park especially. We have a situation.”
“On my way.” Frank gave a twitched his head to Robbie. “Coming?”
“You bet.” Robbie stood.
“Sorry, Ben we’ll do this later,” Frank said, reaching for the door.
“No problem, may I watch you run like the hero you are.”
“Christ.” Frank gave a Joe-style shake of his head and walked out.
Robbie snickering, followed.
The sound of chants with the backdrop of music playing flowed loudly to Frank and Robbie as they neared the edge of town.
“Is that . . . Helen Reddy?” Frank asked.
“I believe it is.”
“What the fuck.”
“I am Woman to be exact.”
“Fuck. I knew it.” A disgusted look, and Frank moved forward.
“Knew what?” Robbie questioned but Frank was already in town.
Every woman, it seemed, from Beginnings to Jordan to Creedville, to New Bowman packed center town.
They held signs, chanted unfair to women’s rights, and played Helen Reddy loudly.
“El.” Frank grunted and walked over to her. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Protesting. It was a way out of work.”
“Fucking put the sign down.”
Ellen shrugged. “Ok, thought I’d try.”
“What’s going on?”
Ellen pointed to Misha.
“Fucking great, she’s finally off house arrest and this is her first act.”
“Have fun.” Ellen handed him the sign. “Dean is looking for me.”
“El . . .” Frank yelled as she darted away.
“Beast!” Misha screamed. “Again, you prove how the men rule the women.”
“Yeah, so what’s your fucking point?”
She gasped. ‘We are protesting the abuse of Jenny. The inability that you are doing to take charge and fix this.”
“I am!” Frank yelled. “That’s why I’m using Jenny! She agreed.”
“She was devastated and you took advantage of her mental state.”
“Clear the street.” Frank said.
“No.”
“Clear the fucking street!”
“No, this is America. We have rights.”
“This is Beginnings you have different rights.”
“This is still America. I asked Captain Slagel if our constitutional rights were still protected and he said yes. So I am exercising, we are exercising our first amendment.”
“Fucking Hal.”
“And I’ll have you know President Slagel,” Misha argued. “We plan on staying out here all day and all night. We will chant hold candle vigils and sing Kumbaya until tomorrow.”
“Until tomorrow?”
“And longer until the beast is caught and caught without Jenny’s help.”
“Fine. Protest. It’ll be done tomorrow.”
“The protest?” She asked. “It’ll be done when the injustice is done, then we will go back to work.”
Calmly Frank said. “It’ll be done tomorrow.” He winked. “Let’s go Robbie.” A few feet away, Frank cringed. “They don’t even know the fucking words.”
“Frank? Tomorrow?”
“Oh, yeah, tomorrow. I’ll let it go till then.” Frank grinned. “Cause tomorrow is Dad’s watch.”
<><><><>
It was time. Joe knew, and he thought the best way to do it was the direct approach. Andrea deserved to know first.
He wore the invisible suit until he reached her office, knowing full well she would be returning to finish up her reports.
He was hoping she wasn’t part of that ruckus outside, that irritated Joe. But not as much as Frank pushing it aside until the next day when he would be in charge.
Undoing the invisible suit, he placed it on the floor and sat behind her desk. Andrea would react immediately because she would see him when she entered.
He heard the humming Andrea did. Some religious song. What else.
The door opened, Andrea walked in.
“Andrea.”
She made eye contact, slowed down on her humming, then after a brief, very brief pause, she shut the door, folders in hand and continued to hum.
‘OK’, Joe thought, ‘Let’s try this again.’
Andrea walked to the file cabinet.
“Andrea.”
She kept humming.
Suddenly, her rendition of ‘What a Friend we have in Jesus’, turned into her singing, “No, I do not have the brain flu.”
“Andrea.”
She kept ignoring him.
“Christ.”
Slam. She spun around. “Do not blasphemy around me Joe Slagel. I don’t care in the good Lord granted you that wish or not.”
“Well, I’m not dead so it doesn’t count.”
“I’m sure.” She folded her arms. “Trickery of Satan.” Immediately she started praying.
“Andrea this is not a goddamn tr
ick of the devil. Do I look dead.”
“Yes.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because I saw your dead body.”
“That wasn’t me.”
“Who was it then?”
“It was me, but it was the future me. Hard to explain.”
Andrea tilted her head and quieted with a questioning glance.
“Think of me like Jesus, I rose after a spell.”
She shrieked. “Lord Jesus cast this demon from my sight!” she pointed. “Sweet Jesus, Sweet Jesus . . .”
“Andrea knock it the hell off.”
“I will do no such thing.” She stormed to him. “Do you think you frighten me? Do you think the power of the Lord isn’t enough to cast you out.”
“He tried once, it didn’t work.”
She gasped.
“Andrea.”
“Say it.”
“Say what?”
“That you love Jesus.”
“Christ Almighty, Andrea . . .”
“Say it.”
“Fine. Fine goddamn it. I love Jesus! There. You happy.”
“Joe!” Andrea rushed to him and embraced him. “You’re back!”
“I never left. It’s a long story.” He held on to her. “I just need you to understand and not hate me for it.”
“Never. Tell me. What happened?”
“I will.” Joe pulled back a little. “But, uh, can I tell after some long due …” He inked. “You know.”
Andrea smiled, blushed and kissed him.
“Lock the door will ya?”
“Oh, now I know for sure, Joe Slagel is back.” With a school girl giggle, she tapped him lightly on the chest and walked over and locked the door.
<><><><>
“Andrea must be praying intently.” Ellen announced as she stepped into the lab. “I went to see her and tell her I was back. Her office door was locked and she is in there yelling Sweet Jesus, Sweet Jesus, Sweet Jesus.”
Dean snickered.
“What?”
He shook his head.
“Anyhow,” She laid her sign on the counter. “I’m back.”
“That was a quick protest.”
“It’s still going on, can’t you hear Helen Reddy? Frank dispersed me.”
“Frank is wise.”
“I am,” Frank’s voice entered the lab.
“And intrusive.” Dean nodded his head Frank’s way.
“And in shock,” Frank added. “I’ll tell you later about what I just witnessed.” He shuddered. “I’m scarred for the rest of my life.”
“Well, good thing for you history of the future shows that’s not too long,” Dean said.
“Ha, ha, ha. Are you fuckin funny? Isn’t that an oxymoron?”
Almost looking impressed Dean faced Frank. “Big word. That was a good one Frank.”
“I’m smart.”
“You are.”
“You guys are weird,” Ellen added. “Why are you here, Frank?”
“I need to talk to you about something important. I wanted Dean here for support and it’s news that’s breaking to the community tomorrow. I wanted you to hear it from me, first.”
“Sounds important.
“It is.”
“What is it?”
Frank shifted his eyes to Dean. “El . . .” he looked at Ellen. “You need to know . . . he . . . I . . . “Frank stopped, lifted a finger and walked to the door.
Ellen giggled and looked at Dean. “What is he doing.”
Joe walked in.
The smile fell from Ellen’s face. Her eyes widened. “Joe?”
“What’s up kiddo?”
Her mouth quivered, she took a single step, her mouth widened more, eyes rolled to the back of her head and Ellen passed out. Her body swayed forward. Frank saw it. He he grabbed her, but not before her head hit with a hard thunk off the corner of the counter.
CHAPTER FOUR
Ellen lay in a hospital bed, a small bandage on her forehead
Hal rushed in. “I went to the house but they said she was . . . good God is she still unconscious?”
“Unfortunately,” Dean said standing by one side of her. Frank on the other. Robbie in a chair and Joe in the corner. “Can you shut the door, we don’t want anyone to know . . .” he motioned his head at Joe.
“Thanks, Dean, you can say my name.” Joe shook his head in disgust.
“How long has she been out?” Hal asked.
“Three hours now.”
“Oh my God, is she in a coma?”
“Not that we know of. No brain swelling on the CT scan. Knocked out.”
“Have you tried smelling salts?”
Dean huffed. “Do I look like an idiot to you?”
Frank answered. “Yes.”
“Shut up, Frank,” Dean snapped.
“You asked. Don’t ask a question you don’t want an answer to.”
Hal walked to the bed. “So the head injury isn’t that severe?”
Dean shook his head. “A few stitches. No, not that I know of.”
Robbie interjected. “We even made Frank take off his boot. It didn’t work.”
“Good God, she’s really out. What happened?”
Frank pointed at Joe. “Him.”
“Him?” Hal asked. “You mean Dad.”
“What hell you mean, me?” Joe barked. “How did I do this?”
“You walked in the room. She saw you, passed out, conked her head.”
“In dad’s defense,” Robbie said. “You didn’t grab her. You weren’t quick enough.”
Frank gasped. “Bite your tongue. She never hit the floor. It wasn’t my fault.”
“And it wasn’t mine.” Joe defended.
“Was to.”
“Was not.”
“You just entered the room.”
“Yeah, you told me to.”
“If I told you to jump off a bridge would you.”
“Yeah, Frank I would, only after I pushed your big, dumb, moronic, ass off that bridge.”
Frank fluttered his lips. “You couldn’t.”
“I could.”
“Wanna test it?”
“Test it?” Joe asked. “Test throwing you off a bridge.”
“Yeah.”
“How do you propose we test that Frank.”
“Father,” Hal interjected. “If I may before you . . .”
“No. Hal. No you may not.”
“Fine?” Hal shrugged. “Dean get the anti-embolism medication, it’s gonna be a stroke.”
Joe shook his head and faced Frank. “If I could take that challenge, I’d do it. I’d throw you off a bridge.”
“Then let’s go, it’s on,” Frank said.
“Again, Frank, how do you propose you test my ability to throw you off a bridge?”
“Dad uh, they call me the dumb one.”
“For a reason.”
“Please.” He snickered. “Test you. Here’s how. Let’s go to a bridge.”
“Uh huh.” Joe nodded once. “Where?”
“Huh?”
“Where? Where in God’s name is there a bridge around here Frank? We’re in goddamn Beginnings, there isn’t even a river!”
“We’ll make one.”
“We’ll make one. You’re such an asshole.”
“Hey!” Frank blasted. “Quit calling me names and yelling at me. No wonder I wanted you to stay dead.”
“Maybe you wanted me dead in the first place.”
Frank stepped back. “Why would you say that?”
Nonchalantly Joe said. “You never made it to save me. You save everyone else.”
Robbie lifted his hand. “I said the same thing.”
“Me, too.” Dean added.
“I thought it, but never wanted to say it,” Hal added.
With a gasp, Frank pivoted his body, left to right to left. “You people are wrong.”
“Hey, hey, hey.” Dean changed the tone. “She’s waking.”
Everyone rush
ed to the bed.
Frank held out his arm. “Stay back dad we don’t need her going out a . . . ow.” Frank grabbed her back of his head.
Ellen groaned and her eyes fluttered. “My head.”
“Probably my dad.” Frank said.
She opened her eyes. “Joe.”
“Hey you.” Joe walked to the bed. “How are you feeling.”
“My head hurts. What . . . what . . .” She looked around. “What’s going on?”
Dean stepped forward. “You hit your head. You were out for a while.”
“Am I OK?”
“You seem it.” Dean smiled. “Let’s uh, let’s ask you a few questions. You’re gonna think they’re silly.”
“Go on.”
“What year is it?”
“Year?” Ellen said. “We really don’t keep track of years.”
Frank nodded. “She’s right. Good answer.”
“Do you know your name?” Dean asked.
“Missy Jane.”
Every laughed.
Joe patted her hand.
Dean continued. “Who’s the president?”
Frank fluttered his lips. “This is a trick question. Answer carefully.”
Hal gasped. “How is it a trick question?”
“It is,” Ellen said. “There is no real president, but we have a leader. Joe. He’s my father, he is the king.”
Frank laughed. “King. Please, I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Dean.” Hal whispered. “Something is not right.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Her manner of speaking,” Hal said. “Something is not right.”
Dean looked at Ellen. “What is the last thing you remember?”
“Looking at Joe.”
Dean lifted his hands.
Hal stepped forward. “Do you know who I am?”
“Of course, silly.” She grabbed his hand. “You are Hal. My knight in shining armor.”
Hal bobbed his head. “OK, she’s fine.”
Robbie asked. “What about me?”
“Robbie. My handsome prince.”
“Ok,” Robbie clapped. “She’s good.”
“This is fucked up. I think Hal’s right,” Frank said. “Handsome prince. King. Knight. Who am I?”
“Frank. Ellen replied. “The deadly warrior.”
“OK, maybe she’s fine.”
“Hold it.” Joe interjected. “As hard headed and dumb as my son is. He has a point. Ellen.”
“Missy Jane.”
“OK,” Joe whistled. “Where do you live.”
The Third Ten Page 166
