The Third Ten

by Jacqueline Druga

“As in a gift. Like, ‘Here Frank, have it it’s yours?’

  ‘No.” Joe snipped. “It’s yours Frank. Your stuff.”

  “Oh. Wow. Thanks, but I have a desk, chair and file cabinets. But thanks for the gift though. Maybe another time.”

  “Frank . . .”

  “You keep it. I have it.”

  “Frank . . .”

  “Cause really, Dad, if I took it, what would you have.”

  “Frank . . .”

  “An empty fucking room, that’s for sure.”

  “Frank!”

  “What!”

  “Sit!”

  “Fine. Fuck. Get mad cause I won’t take it.”

  “I’m not mad because you won’t take it.” Joe slammed his hand. “I’m pissed because you’re so goddamn hardheaded you can’t understand this stuff. It’s yours. Your stuff. Your desk! Your files! Your stuff!”

  “Thank you!” Frank blasted as loud as he could. “If it means so much for me to take it I’ll put it in storage. Fuck!” He sat down. “Man, you’re tough after the death.”

  “Good God.” Hal said. “It’s is now abundantly, one hundred percent clear to me that our father brings out the mental retardation in you.”

  “Hal, enough,” Joe warned.

  “Yeah, Hal, shut up.” Frank barked.

  “No, you shut up, Frank and sit down!” Hal argued.

  “Both of you. Shut up!” Joe blasted. “Robert enough!”

  “What?” Robbie innocently raised his hands. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “You’re laughing inside. That’s good enough for me to yell.”

  Robbie laughed.

  “See.” Joe pointed his pen. “Ok, now, if we can. We have a lot of things to discuss. Let’s get started. Are we calm?”

  Frank looked at Hal, Robbie, and Danny. “We are. You however . . .”

  “Frank.”

  “What?”

  “Shh.” Joe put his finger to his lips.

  “Ok.” Frank whispered.

  “First up.” Joe lifted his file. “The brain flu.”

  Frank whistled. “It’s bad.”

  At that second, everyone looked at him.

  “What?” Frank asked clueless.

  “Why is that, Frank?” Joe questioned.

  “Why is what?”

  “Why is it bad?”

  “Fucking everyone has it. Have you been to the clinic? It’s packed with people suffering. It’s like the plague all over again.”

  “No.” Joe shook his head calmly. “It’s not. It’s not because there is no brain flu.”

  Hal whispered. “Here we go again.”

  After a shooting glance to Hal, Joe returned to Frank. “There is no brain flu.”

  “Uh, Dad, there is. I know you’ve been dead, but have you been to the clinic.”

  “First off … asshole. I wasn’t dead. Second, yeah, I was there. They think they have the brain flu because they think they are hallucinating.”

  “Yeah.”

  “They see me.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m not an illusion, Frank, I’m real.”

  “Ok.”

  “Ok, so . . . there’s no brain flu.”

  “But, Dad have you . . .”

  “Don’t. Don’t say, have I been to the clinic. Frank, the brain flu does not exist. The brain flu started as a rumor to cover up the fact that you had Roy fix the ALS3, and Dan seeing things just fell into place. You invented it.”

  “Wow, I’m good.”

  “Yes, Frank you are good.”

  “Here it goes,” Hal said.

  “I am.” Frank grinned. “And I must be good. I invented the brain flu and I’m not a scientist. Man.”

  “You didn’t invent it Frank.” Joe clarified. “You started a rumor and everyone bought it. Now it’s all in their minds. Get it?”

  “Oh. Ok. Got it. They think they have it. But they don’t. Like when you mention lice to someone and they itch.”

  “Exactly.”

  Frank winked. “Ok, got it. Not lice.”

  “Frank . . .”

  “The brain flu thing.”

  “Frank.”

  “Actually, I don’t have that either . . .”

  “Frank.”

  “Just saying I get what you’re saying.”

  Joe was about to yell, but stopped. ‘Good. Now.” He took a deep breath. “What do we do about this brain flu pandemonium?”

  Frank raised his hand.

  “Frank.”

  “Cure it.” Frank said assuredly.

  “Frank.” Joe snapped. “You can’t cure it. It doesn’t exist!”

  “Dad!” Frank yelled back. “If they think they caught it and it’s not real, why won’t they just as easily buy a cure for it? Give them a shot. If they believe the brain flu they’ll believe the cure!”

  Hal winced. “Mark this as a historical thing, but our brother . . . has a point.”

  Danny nodded. “I agree. We have the town meeting this evening, why not have the Deans announce they have a cure and give everyone a shot or pill.”

  Joe was silent for a moment, then nodded. “Ok, that works. Danny get on that.”

  “You got it.” Danny gave a thumbs up.

  “Wow.” Joe looked at his watch, and made a notation. “Record time in solving problem one. Ok. moving on to the next thing. The future LEP who came through the . . .”

  “Oh my God.” Frank stood up.

  “What?” Joe asked.

  “Hold on.”

  “What?”

  Frank put his hand on his head. “Wait. I just thought of something.”

  “What?”

  “It just came to me.”

  “What?” Joe asked, losing patience.

  “Oh my God. I got it now.”

  “What, Frank. What!” Joe blasted.

  “I went into my office . . . Oh my God.” Frank pointed. “That’s my desk. My file cabinets. “Dad. Did you . . .” Frank tilted his head. “Steal all my stuff?”

  Joe didn’t answer. Amidst the groans in the room, Robbie’s snickering; Joe just tossed his pencil down, and dropped his head to the desk.

  <><><><>

  Jimmy Slagel had a normal start to his day. It was hard to believe he was back on the east with the Society. Only this time, the Society wasn’t the enemy.

  His head hurt him a little bit from downing the drinks with Mick the night before. Mick had to be in Virginia to start training men, and ironically that was Jimmy’s first stop.

  His sole reason and job on the east side of the country was to run system checks on remaining nuclear warheads, and get the silos operational to be able to launch if needed.

  That meant warheads, computers everything.

  Mostly Jimmy was doing it alone.

  It wasn’t as enlightening as he had thought, nor as prosperous as he and Beginnings had hoped. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

  That was what he told Joe on the phone.

  “If we’re lucky fifty percent will be operational. Most are old, wires corroded. It’s a hot zone to walk into. Radiation readings are through the roof which tells me to run.”

  “So some are leaking?” Joe asked.

  “Yes, due to age. We’ll keep looking. I’m suiting up though, can’t expose myself anymore. Don’t want to chance getting ill.”

  “I understand that. Keep me posted.”

  “Will do.” Jimmy hung up and then he stared.

  His head did start to throb a little, that was a sign. At least another sign.

  At his desk, he had his elbows propped, fingers massaging his temple. He merely raised his eyes to the knock at the door.

  “Yeah.” He called out.

  Mick stepped in. “Morning. You’re up and . . .” Mick paused. “You OK?”

  “Yes.” Pause. “No.” Jimmy said. “No, I think I’m relapsing.”

  “Relapsing into what? Maybe you drank too much last night.”

  “No, just a short time ago I came dow
n with the brain flu that . . .”

  “Wait. Stop.” Mick held up his hand. “Brain flu?”

  “Yeah, a virus. It strikes the brain, highly contagious.”

  Mick stepped back.

  “I think it’s contagious. Anyhow, a lot of men got it in Beginnings. It’s male gender based.”

  “Holy shit. Why didn’t we get a health alert about it?”

  “Maybe it’s because it’s on the other end of the country.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s on this side now if you brought it. We’ll have to get Callahan to get in touch with Dr. Hayes.”

  “He’s not the one working on it.”

  Mick shook his head. “Someone then in Beginnings. All right. Maybe you don’t have it.”

  “I do. It causes you to hallucinate.”

  “And you’re hallucinating?” Mick asked.

  “Absolutely.” Jimmy nodded. “I just had a very brief, but intense and seemingly real phone conversation with my father.”

  “Oh, that’s not . . . hold on. Your father is dead.”

  “I know.”

  “Are you sure it was him?”

  “Positive. He said, ‘Hey Jim, it’s Dad, we’re having a meeting and I have a few questions to ask you.’”

  Mick whistled. “Almost like a flashback hallucination.”

  “Yes.”

  “Could your brothers be playing a joke on you?”

  “No one does his voice. It was his. I’m positive.”

  Another whistle from Mick. “Ok, well, before you go testing nukes, let’s get you checked out and have the doc here call Beginnings.”

  Jimmy agreed. He stood, a little unsure of himself. After all, that hallucination was the worst. It was so vivid he was without a doubt, convinced the brain flu was back and with a vengeance.

  <><><><>

  After Joe had hung up the telephone he had informed Frank, Hal, Robbie, and Danny of what Jimmy said. It wasn’t like they didn’t expect problems with the nuclear weapons. But knowing Jimmy, and having faith in him, allowed then to ‘count’ on the nuclear weaponry.

  Joe didn’t quite understand it. The decisions Frank was implementing. The trickle down training in order to get twenty thousand troops down south. A tactical nuclear silo, radar working, and usage of the ALS to watch the ocean, a thousand men already moved north at a distance to watch the Canadian Mass.

  Although slightly different than things he’d do, for example, Joe would have gotten rid of the Mass up north; Joe had to trust in Frank. Not only as a leader and a father, but because the future dictates that Frank and only Frank can make a decision in the future to stop or change the Great War.

  The others had finally arrived to discuss the remainder of the meeting agenda.

  Jason, Dean and Roy.

  <><><><>

  The skipping was a bit much on his arm, but if Ellen wanted to do so, who was Elliott to question what was going on in her brain, rather injured brain.

  The skipping only lasted until they were out of the clinic and in the jeep. The Ellen drew silent, with the exception of a quirky smile. Elliott could only guess she was thinking about the dwarves and her cottage.

  She didn’t say much the whole trip, actually nothing at all. When they arrived, she muttered out a ‘Thank you, would you like to come in,’ then left the jeep and went directly into the house.

  Elliott followed. Something was not right. Was Ellen not feeling well?

  “Would you like something to eat?” she asked as he took his seat on the couch.

  “No, I’m fine,” Elliott replied. “Something to drink would work, but I can get it.”

  “No, I’ll get it.” Ellen turned, and then the pitter patter of little feet made her stop.

  “Mommy!” Alex came flying down the hall. “We don’t have school. Everyone thinks there’s an epidemic.”

  “I know.” Ellen hugged her daughter. “Where are the other little ones?”

  ‘Little ones’ Elliott thought, yes, her multitudes of children must be the dwarves she was telling the other Slagel’s about.

  Alexandra answered. “Joey is out playing with Marcus, he is trying to catch him. Nick is with Henry and . . .”

  Billy, the miniature Dean walked into the room. He was so much like Dean, an attitude no nine year old should have.

  “Mother,” he gave an up nod of his head. “Heard you bumped your head and have amnesia.”

  “Partial.”

  “I see,” Billy rubbed his little chin. “And what part of your head did you hit?”

  Ellen pointed to the far rear, right side of her heard. “See.”

  “Ah, yes. So there must be room in there.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Well considering the frontal lobe controls behavior, so to speak, the back controls agility. You hit in neither, nor on the proper side of the brain to affect memory or moods. I can only deduct that there has to be wiggle room in that head of yours to hit on side and cause damage to the brain on a totally different side of the brain.”

  Ellen nodded. “Yes.”

  “And who was it that made this bright boy diagnosis.”

  “Your father.”

  Billy winced. “God! He’s slipping. He’s either so consumed with this petty Roy is better than me stuff, lost his edge and doesn’t see though this or he’s playing along.”

  “Playing along with what?” Ellen asked.

  “Mom.” Billy tilted his head. “I may be young, but I’m not Joey.”

  “Billy go get Sgt. Ryder something to drink.”

  “Don’t you mean Prince Charming?”

  “Go.” Ellen pointed.

  “Fine. Fine. You have a perfectly capable child, who not only is female, but has no desire right now other than to be quite content pouring beverages for a tea party, yet you ask the intelligent one.”

  “Go.”

  Billy huffed and walked toward the kitchen.

  Elliott was stunned. His head still spun some from the conversation and complex sentences delivered by the little boy. “Ellen? Correct me if I’m wrong, but did he just . . .”

  “Call me out?” Ellen plopped on the couch. “Yes.”

  Elliott laughed. He laughed hard.

  “What?”

  “You don’t have amnesia?”

  “No.” Ellen laughed. “I have three stitches in my head.”

  “And you don’t believe you live near the hideaway forest.”

  “Nope.”

  “Does . . .” Elliott held up his hand. “Dean, Roy, Forest, do they believe it.”

  “As does Joe, Frank, Robbie, and Hal.” She smiled.

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “The Slagels are all assholes.” Ellen nodded assuredly. “Joe is alive. How many of them knew? I mean, granted, I was shocked when I saw him. I hit my head and fainted from the shock, but I heard them talking when I was out. Talking like maybe they should have waited to tell me with everyone else. What the hell? They knew the night before? They all got drunk, stayed up, hung out and didn’t tell me. He’s my father, too.”

  “But, Dean didn’t know.”

  “He knew when Frank came in with Joe, therefore he withheld vital information.”

  “Surely, if Billy figured it out then Dean will too.”

  Ellen chuckled. “He doesn’t want to figure it out. To him it’ll be all well in fine me living in my own world. Of course he is pissed he’s not in my book. And how about him trying to propose.” She shook her head. “Wait.” She raised her eyes. “You aren’t gonna tell on me, are you?”

  “Ellen it is my duty and responsibility.”

  “You are!” She stood up. “Tattle tale!”

  “Ellen, what do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to think of all the times Frank, Robbie, Hal, and Joe, got you. Tormented you. Think of those times and then . . . play along.”

  “How so?”

  “Just play along. Don�
��t tell them you know. I promise that I won’t tell them you were any the wiser.”

  “What about Billy?”

  “Oh, please. He so is going to love the fact that he is one up on his father. He’ll play along just to see Dean look like a fool.”

  Elliott took a deep breath.

  “What do you think?”

  After a brief pause, and a quick smile, Elliott shrugged. “Sure why not. Should be interesting.”

  <><><><>

  “Probably right now looking for a fishing rod so he and Missy Jane can fish in the Happy Stream,” Hal said to Dean upon being asked of Elliott’s whereabouts. “Of course I haven’t a clue why he is Prince Charming.”

  “Hal,” Joe warned.

  Dean shook his head. “At least your something, I’m not in the story at all.”

  “Dean.”

  “True.” Hal said. “Perhaps Ellen will see that Elliott is not Prince Charming after all.”

  Pause. Silent.

  “Perhaps not.” Hal shrugged. “At least we know she’s safe, even if in her own world.”

  “I hope she fuckin comes out,” Frank interjected. “I hate it. Granted, I am the awesome warrior God . . .”

  “What!” Hal blasted. “She never referred to you as a God.”

  “Did too.”

  “No, she did not.”

  “Boys.” Joe grumbled.

  Robbie added. “I believe she did, Hal.”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  “Man,” Frank huffed. “Being mean to our only little brother. Especially when he told us that important information about the dragons.”

  Dean asked. “What information is that, Frank?”

  “They don’t attack on Thursdays or Saturdays. So we’re safe.”

  “That’s good to know. Thanks, Frank.” Dean acted as if he wrote down.

  “No problem.” Frank winked. “But thank Robbie, he’s the foremost expert on Dragons.”

  “Good God.” Hal barked out. “Can we just start this meeting?”

  “Thank you!” Joe stated hard as he dropped his pencil. “Please, let’s get started. I have an entire list of what we need to discuss and get through.”

  “I agree.” Frank said.

  Joe raised his eyes.

  “What? I was just adding as second in command.”

  Hal shook his head. “You are not second in command.”

  “Oh. That’s right. First.” Frank gave a thumbs up. “I’m still president. I won the election. Thanks, Hal.”