“Swell. Can I just tell you the entry?”
“Do you know today’s password? I can’t make the entry without today’s password.”
“Yes.” Dean slowed in his words. “I know today’s password. Joe told me.”
“Good.” Trish spoke perkily and very slowly took a form from the drawer. She picked up a pen. “Let’s see if this writes.” She scribbled, nothing. She grabbed another pen . . . slowly.
“Trish, I’m in a hurry.”
“Patience, Dean.” She tried her pen. “There, it works. Now before I fill out the request, what’s the password?”
Dean cleared his throat. “Yabba-Dabba-Doo.”
“Very good. I thought of that myself.” She readied to write. “What is it?”
“Virus prototype experiment visit. See Dean’s files. Put it in at eight-thirty a.m. today.”
Trish wrote and spoke it as she did. “See . . . Dean’s . . . files.” She made a hard period sound with her pen. “What’s this supposed to mean.”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Well, I can’t make the entry. I have to clear it with Joe, just so you know.”
“That’s fine. Thanks.” Dean started to leave and he stopped. “Oh hey, by the way, someone told me you control the understanding rule book.”
“I do. I have the original one with the amendments handwritten in it. Then I have the one I worked on myself to make it really look neat.”
“Can I borrow one until tomorrow?”
“You mean like a library book?” Trish asked.
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“They don’t leave history,” Trish stated.
“I need to read them. I’m interested and I’m gonna have some time in my lab. Come on, Trish, no one will know. Be nice.”
“If I lend you one, you aren’t going to try to make changes in it like Frank did when he came by to see one.”
“No,” Dean laughed. “Frank came by to see one?”
“Oh sure,” she said, “about two weeks ago. He was being funny.”
“Frank, funny?”
“Yep. He wanted to say that I forgot to add the amendment that it is all right to kill the secondary relationship male at any time during the understanding or after.” She laughed. “But I knew he was fibbing. So what do you need the understanding rules for? Need to brush up for your understanding with Henry?”
“You can say so, but no one is supposed to know about it.”
“That’s nice of you to have the understanding with Henry. I’ll let you borrow the book.” Trish stood from her desk, grunting and then waddled her pregnant body to the file cabinet. “He’ll be a good secondary relationship for Ellen.”
“Secondary?” Dean shook his head. “No primary.”
“Secondary, right? Aren’t you going to be the primary? I hope.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’ve always wanted you and Ellen back together.”
“Let me let you in on a secret, me too. But being the primary relationship will be a little impossible seeing how she’s married to Henry.”
Trish handed him the rule book. “What do you mean?”
“Henry and Ellen are married.”
“No they aren’t.”
“Yes they are.”
“No, they aren’t Dean,” Trish was insistent. “I mean I would know. I am the warden of history. If someone gets married, I get the paper work. Reverend Bob always files it with me in a timely manner. I even make a special trip in on Saturdays if anyone gets married. It’s not a marriage if Reverend Bob doesn’t give me the official papers and trust me, I never got any papers on Ellen and Henry.”
“There has to be some mistake. They said they got married April first.”
“There you have it. But we can go check just in case my memory is messed up. I doubt it though.” Scooting to the back history room, Trish led Dean in there. She moaned as she sat down at the computer and quickly pulled up marriages. “Let’s see, this is all the marriages and dedications done this year. You say April first?”
“Yes.” Dean peered over her shoulder.
“Nothing.” Trish clicked on the keyboard. “Let’s go ahead a few days to see if Bob forgot to file. The second . . . nope. Third, no. Fourth . . .” More clicks. “Not in here. See Dean. Not married.” She spun the tall stool to face him and saw the wide grin on his face.
“This is great.” Dean folded his arms and nodded. “Oh I’m gonna kill her for lying to me.” He smiled wider then it dropped. “Shit. Trish, do me a favor. Whatever you do.” He laid his hands on her shoulder, “don’t, I repeat, don’t tell Frank what you just told me.”
“Why?”
“Just don’t. Please. Not yet.” Dean backed up holding that understanding rule book. “I’ll let you know when it’s safe.” He darted out and ran back in. “Thanks. You made my day.” He gave her a wink and took off running from history.
Dean knew the first thing he was going to do. As soon as he had Ellen alone in quarantine, he was going to let her have it. A part of Dean wasn’t mad at all but he should have been. The whole deceit thing was overshadowed by the fact that Ellen and Henry were not really married. Then again, the fear of what Frank would do if he found out crept into his thoughts as well. With his head down in the Dean ‘don’t talk to me I’m in a rush’ mode, he paced himself quickly through town.
“Morning, Dean.”
Just to be cordial Dean replied back, “Morning.” His head rose to see who it was and he stopped cold. “Reverend Bob.” Another huge grin ripped across Dean’s face. “Just the man I wanted to see this morning. You have a second?”
“Sure.” Reverend Bob looked at his watch. “just a second. Just kidding, what is it?”
“To be on the safe side.”
“Huh?”
Dean waved his hand. “I’m talking to myself. But, did you by chance marry Ellen and Henry?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Thanks.” Dean started walking again and again he stopped cold when he heard an ‘uh-oh’ from behind him. Afraid, Dean turned back to Reverend Bob. “What’s uh-oh?”
“Well . . . Nah.” He closed his eyes and shook his head.
“What?”
“Well, they did come to me and asked me to marry them. It was April Fool’s Day and I thought it was a joke. Especially when they said they wanted the super-duper speedo wedding. Yeah, that’s what they called it.”
“And what did you do?” Dean asked him.
“Well I said, ‘do you both?’ They both said ‘yes’. Then I said ‘done.’” He shrugged. “They couldn’t have possibly thought they got married could they? I mean, it was April Fool’s Day. This was Henry and Ellen and . . . oh no.”
Dean closed his eyes with a slow nodding head. “They actually believe you married them.”
“Now they can’t be that dumb. Can they?” He saw Dean still nodding his head. “Damn.”
“Since they thought it, are they?”
“No.” Reverend Bob shook his head. “No, we have procedures, marriage classes to follow and papers to file with history. We try to keep it very legal so there is a sense of seriousness about it. If we don’t, people will think they can get married as much as they want, whenever they want. I have to talk to them.”
“Wait.” Dean held up his hand. “Ellen and I are busy in the lab until tonight. Don’t say anything, not yet. Let me talk to her first. Can you do that? Keep it from Henry and most of all, from Frank.”
“Frank,” Reverend Bob shuddered. “If he thinks they’re married, he’s just going to start all kinds of trouble when he finds out they aren’t.”
“Exactly.”
“I feel awful, I really do.”
“We’ll work something out.” Dean checked out the time and saw how much he had spent of it talking. “I have to run.” He darted back. “Remember, nothing to Henry or Frank yet. Thanks.” Holding up his hand to wave, Dean turned quickly to run. Just as he rounded
the last building on his way to the hanger, Frank jumped out again with another loud ‘boo’. Flipping off a laughing Frank, Dean ignored him and continued on, grateful for two things. One, he wouldn’t have to deal with Frank for twelve hours, and two, he knew something Frank didn’t know.
<><><><>
Robbie heard the Beginnings’ helicopter hovering but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He didn’t have anyone who could run over the grade for whatever they were dropping off. Even Greg and the two others that were in remission were weak and the remaining men, all ten had fallen victims to the new plague.
The silence captured Robbie’s attention. There was no sound of a helicopter at all. The engines stopped. Was he that wrapped up in wiping down the fevered body of Marty to not even hear? A ‘no’ answer came to him. When through the corner of his eyes, he saw them, two people looking more like spacemen in the blue suits they wore, the people from Beginnings. But somehow from the size of them both, Robbie knew who it was.
Dropping the cloth into the pail of water, Robbie rose up to his feet, facing Ellen and Dean as they walked closer to him. “Ellen.” He set down the pail and took off in a trot their way. “El!”
Placing the case she held on the ground, Ellen hurried to him. Through the head set in the suit she wore she heard Dean tell her. ‘Leave the suit on, El.’ He knew her too well. “Robbie.” Ellen switched on the external speaker. “Robbie.” She reached him, her hands gripping tightly to his arms, wanting so bad to embrace him but knowing it would be an awkward hold with the suit.
“El.” He hunched down to her level peering into her face mask. “What are you doing?”
“I told you that you wouldn’t be alone. You’re not.”
“God, it’s so good to see you.” Robbie smiled “Thank you guys for coming. Why are you here though?”
Dean held up the case he brought. “We came with a prototype we need to give those who are sick.”
“That’s everyone but me plus Greg and them who are in remission. Everyone has it now, Dean.”
Dean motioned his head up the hill. “Are they up there?”
“Yeah.” Robbie watched Dean head up that way and then Robbie grabbed Ellen’s gloved hand.
“How are you handling this, Robbie?”
“I’m doing all right.” He took a shivering breath. “I’m tough.”
“That you are.” She walked with him.
“El? Before you go, remind me to give you all the souvenirs I found for you. They’re small, but I got you a few.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.” Ellen stopped walking and stood before him. “You always bring me gifts whenever you come home. You’re not home, Robbie. I want you to give them to me when you come home.” She smiled at him. “Now I’ll talk to you later. Rest. We’re here.” She released his hand, took a few steps backwards, and then went to join Dean.
“When I come home,” Robbie spoke softly to himself, shaking his head. He ran his hand across his sweaty and dirty forehead then watched Dean and Ellen as they approached each man who lay ill, not far from where Robbie stood. Standing there watching them for a short while was rest enough. When Robbie stopped, he started to think and Robbie didn’t want to think. He had to stay busy to keep his mind focused on helping his men. Even though he was weary and worn out and in need of the break he could have had, Robbie trudged forward to help Dean and Ellen.
<><><><>
“Bob, you don’t smoke,” Joe said calmly to Reverend Bob who sat across from Joe in his office.
“I would like to now. I used to.”
“You may get sick.” Joe held out a cigarette to him, then a lighter. He pushed the ashtray forward.
“Thank you.” Reverend Bob looked at the cigarette. “Wow, you guys are still smoking Camel filters. One hell of a supply you must have picked up.” Shaking, he lit the cigarette.
“Tell me, usually when you’re like this it's because Frank did something to you.”
“No,” Reverend Bob said and then coughed out the hit he took of the cigarette. “I did something. We have a situation and I need your advice. Confidentially.”
“I like this.” Joe cupped his hands behind his head and rocked back in his chair. “A religious man is confessing to me. Go on. Shoot. I’m all ears.”
“O.K. Here it goes.” Reverend Bob scooted his chair closer to the desk. “I don’t pay much attention to some people in this community, especially those who really don’t frequent my services. Not on purpose mind you, but I really don’t pay much attention to their lives.”
“That’s about five people in this community. So what’s going on with one of them?”
“Two.”
“Two?” Joe raised his eyebrows with a closed mouth look. “Which two?”
“Henry and Ellen.”
“Christ . . . sorry Reverend. What did they do?”
“They didn’t do anything. I did and it could mean mayhem for you, Joe.”
“Shit.” Joe stopped rocking and folded his hands on his desk. “Go on. Give it to me.”
“One day, nearly four months ago, they came to me and asked me to marry them. It was April Fool’s Day. They wanted the quick ceremony.” Reverend Bob watched Joe’s face drop as if Joe knew where he was going already. “I said hardly anything. Honest. But . . . they took me seriously. They think, Joe, that they’re married. They aren’t. No papers have been filed with history. No real nuptials were performed. Nothing.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“They aren’t married and they think they are.”
“Marry them again.”
“So you’re saying to tell them?” Reverend Bob asked. “Telling them is chancing Frank finding out. Frank finding out could mean trouble.”
“Christ.” Joe shook his head. “You aren’t kidding. He’ll do everything in his power to stop it. They think they’re married. Then . . . make it official. Just file the paper work.”
“Joe we have rules. You and I know we can’t go insert things into history that aren’t there.”
“Don’t insert. Just put it in for today.” Joe gave a ‘so there’ attitude.
“We have procedures, Joe, procedures that we worked hard to make a marriage legal here. I would have to file the papers and the papers would need Henry and Ellen’s signature. In order to get their signatures, I’d have to tell them.”
“Reverend Bob you are really making much too much out of this. Look, who knows? Me, you, possibly Trish . . .”
“And Dean.”
“Dean can be clueless at times. File the paper work, forge Ellen and Henry’s signature, and no one is the wiser. They believe they’re married, so nothing changes. So what if Ellen and Henry aren’t married. You thought it was a joke. They think they are. Why change it? We’ll make their marriage legal without anyone knowing. As long as no one knows we aren’t following the rules, no big deal.”
A strong buzzing sound rang through Joe’s office. It echoed like a wrong answer on a game show. “Wrong!” Frank stepped inside of his father’s office. “Now.” Frank shut the door. “Now is the time you remember to keep the office door closed.” He walked further in. “Let’s go back a little bit. I walked in here on the part where you, Dad, said, Henry and Ellen aren’t married.”
“Frank.” Joe looked up at him. “Listen.”
“No-no-no.” Frank held up his hand and shook his head. “Are they or aren’t they really married?” He waited for an answer. “Reverend Bob?”
Reverend Bob cleared his throat then nervously grabbed his cigarette. “See, it was April Fool’s day. I thought it was a joke. They thought it was real. There was no paper work. No license, nothing. It was a mix up. They believe they are married.”
“But they aren’t?” Frank asked and saw Reverend Bob shake his head. “Oh yes!’ He clenched his fist. “This is fuckin great. Yes. Oh wait until I tell them.” He turned around and grabbed for the door.
“Frank,” Joe yelled o
ut ads he stood up, “Hold it. Be a little mature for crying out loud. Just wait a second and listen to me.”
“O.K. I can listen.” Frank folded his arms.
“All right. They think they’re married. They aren’t, so what. What difference does it make? If no one knows, Reverend Bob here can make it legal and no one is the wiser.”
“I am and we have rules Dad. Nope. Follow the rules. Sorry. They aren’t married. I’m telling.” He raced for the door again.
“Frank!”
“What!” Frank stopped again in total annoyance.
“They married each other once, so they think they’ll marry each other again.” He saw Frank shake his head ‘no. “No? Why are you saying no, Frank?”
“Because the little ‘sneak off and not tell anyone’ marriage failed. They are the two most superstitious people I know. Serves them right. Good job, Bob.” He gave a thumbs up to Reverend Bob. “I haven’t yet told Ellen how much her marriage to Henry bothers me. I will now. They won’t get married. They may plan on it, but they won’t, mark my words. I have to go, I’m excited. I have to tell Henry.”
“Frank.”
“Oh you just have to stop me every time I make an exit.” Frank turned around again. “Yes, Dad. What now?”
“Tell him maturely. Break it to him nicely.”
“I will. I won’t even gloat, even though that will be hard,” Frank nodded. “Anything else?”
“No, go on.” Joe waved his hand at him. “Just one more thing.”
A squeak, a stop, a huff, and then a turn. “Yes.”
“Do you really think you can stop them from getting married?” Joe asked in doubt of Frank’s ability.
“Oh I’m not going to be the . . .” Frank paused and held up his hand to halt his father from saying anything. Frank looked at Reverend Bob, then at Joe, and then he opened the door. “This is my big dramatic exit.” Frank cleared his throat. “I’m not going to be the one to stop them, Dad. One of them will back down, guaranteed. Finish and . . .” he stepped out and poked his head back in. “Goodbye.” The door closed.
With a smack, Joe ran his hand down his face and reached for a cigarette of his own. “Don’t blame me for him, Reverend Bob. I’m still not convinced he’s really my son.”
The Inner Struggle: Beginnings Series Book 7 Page 19
