The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series

by Jacqueline Druga

  “Frank, what is it?”

  Frank took a deep breath. “I don’t want you sleeping with him anymore.” He pointed at her as he walked past her.

  “What?” Ellen was taken aback.

  Frank stopped in a spin to her. “Can I be anymore clear, El?” He brought his hand to his temple. “Stop it with Dean. And I’m not just talking about sex. I’m talking about sleeping, kissing, hugging. Whatever. Anything intimate, I want it to stop.”

  “Excuse me, Frank, but you have no right to . . .”

  “I have every right!” Frank blasted.

  “I live with him!”

  “I don’t care!”

  Ellen took a step to Frank. “Listen to me and listen to me good.”

  “No. El. You listen to me.” Frank pointed heavily at her. “You say I have no right. Bullshit. I have every right. Where was he a year ago? Where’s he been? Buried in a fuckin lab instead with you.” Frank’s words were emotionally strong. “He pulled back from you when he found out about us. In my mind and in my heart he gave you up. Now all of the sudden he’s ready to be a couple again and you go running back.”

  Ellen nearly laughed. “So you think he’s stealing me from you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wrong!” Ellen’s hand flew out. “You never had me, Frank. If you wanted me, why didn’t you say so?”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Oh . . . . oh.” Ellen grunted with lack of words. “Don’t put this on me.”

  “Why not?” Frank’s face grew red with each word. “I may never said I wanted you in my life, but at least I told you I loved you. I couldn’t even count how many times I’ve told you that in my life. But when, El, when was the last time you told me?” He stared at her silent expression as he softened his voice. “And I’m not talking about the ‘oh you know I love you’ lines. Or even you telling someone. When . . . when’s the last time you told me?”

  “I . . . I . . .don’t . . .” Ellen closed her eyes and looked away.

  “I’ll tell you.” Frank made her look at him. “Nearly five years ago when you told me how sorry you were. You were pregnant to Dean. The first, last and only time in our entire lives that you ever told me you loved me, was the day you broke my heart.”

  Ellen’s eyes slowly met Frank’s in a moment of saddened quiet. Her voice cracked. “Choices . . . choices were made then.”

  “And choices can be made now,” Frank spoke deeply and slow. “I want you in my life.”

  “You have me in your life.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Without Dean attached.”

  “I’m sorry, Frank. This is the way it has to be. Take it or leave it.”

  “I think . . .” Frank walked over to the bedroom door. After a moment’s hesitation he opened it and turned to Ellen. “I think . . . I’ll leave it.”

  Ellen’s heart pounded with his actions, trying not to show emotions, she walked to the door. She stopped in its openness. “I feel . . .”

  “No. No you don’t.” Frank silenced her as he spoke near whisper. “That’s your problem. You don’t feel. You stopped knowing how five years ago.”

  Nodding, just nodding one time with a glaze of cold across her eyes, Ellen walked out.

  Frank closed the door.

  ***

  Strumming the guitar and picking the notes became easier to Robbie as he knew it would. All it took was getting back into it and picking it up. It was relaxing, and that’s what he did with Paul in the empty social hall after everyone had left.

  They played songs both of them vaguely remembered. Old songs. Easy one. Ones that made them laugh when they made errors and sing in harmony when they were on a roll.

  Henry paused in his entrance into the hall so as not to be heard. He listened to Robbie’s and Paul’s faster and harder rendition of something from the fifties. They chuckled in synch when they finished and Henry took it as his clue that it was all right to interrupt. Clapping and smiling he approached the only two in the hall. “Robbie.”

  Robbie looked at Paul first then over his shoulder to Henry. “Yeah.” Putting the pick in his mouth, he adjusted the tuning on his guitar.

  “I’m glad I found you.” Henry pulled out a notebook from his pocket. “I was reviewing the requisitions that are needed to be done tomorrow and I saw that you didn’t finish a few from today. With the work load, what would be the chances of maybe doing some tonight or earlier tomorrow before . . .”

  “Henry.” Robbie pulled the pick from his mouth. “What time is it?”

  Henry looked at his watch. “It’s ten p.m., why?”

  “Do . . . do we not have a start and stop work time in this community?” Robbie asked.

  “Oh, sure, but . . .”

  “But . . . I’m not working. Not now. I’m playing.”

  Henry blinked thinking he was misunderstanding Robbie. “I know that. It’s just that the upkeep on the community is important so I try to stay on top of it always.”

  “Good for you.” Robbie stood up and walked around the chair. “But if work is strong on your mind at ten at night . . .” He placed his face close to Henry’s. “Maybe you need to find a life.” With a flick raise of his eyebrows Robbie walked to the bar.

  In the midst of Paul’s immediate return to playing, Henry’s nostrils flared and his expression snapped as he watched Robbie walk away. He stared for a moment, waiting. And when he realized he was therefore ignored, Henry, without wanting to get angry, left the social hall.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  May 27th

  With a fierce ‘slam’ Henry closed the door and huffed his way from the mechanical divisions building. Trying to shake off the frustration he felt, he had to walk. One more minute was all, and he would have totally lost it on Robbie. Everything Robbie said, irked him. Everything Robbie did, gnawed at his gut. It was like the moment Robbie walked into the room, warning flags went up and Henry could just not articulate why. He was never like that before with anyone. Fair and even tempered were qualities that got him on council.

  Henry paced around, first in circles, then toward town. He needed some help on how he could handle himself better and for that, he really wanted to speak to Joe or George.

  Joe was the first one Henry saw. He was locking a door as he came out of a storage building. Fair or unfair to burden Joe with gripes about his own son, Henry called out to him. “Joe!”

  “Hey, Henry. What’s going on?” Joe jingled the keys and shoved them in his pocket.

  “You have a minute? I need to talk.”

  “Is it an emergency?”

  “No, more of a problem, personal.”

  “Oh, then you’re gonna have to go see Ellen, she’s the councilor now, the big problem solver.” Joe smiled, he had been waiting on the moment when he got to say that to one of the ‘originals’.

  “Oh no, Joe, I couldn’t, I’d feel funny . . . just give me a minute.”

  “Henry. I don’t have a minute. Besides, that’s Ellen’s new job. She has six people left in containment now. Go talk to her, if you’re not satisfied, seek me out.”

  Henry could not believe Joe was serious. Ellen help him solve a problem? Ellen help anyone for that matter? Joe pointed to the containment center for the benefit of Henry as he walked away from him. Hesitant, Henry gathered his thoughts and walked there. After buzzing himself in, Greg was on his break, he took the hallway slowly, fearful that Ellen would be sitting at her desk just waiting for someone. She was. Henry turned into her office, Ellen sat there. “El? Do you, oh God, do . . . do you have a minute to talk?”

  “Oh!” Ellen smiled widely. “Henry do you have a problem? This is so great. Come in, I never expected you to come to me. Sit down.”

  “Swell.” Henry walked in slowly. Ellen wasn’t making it any easier on him. She was actually gloating. He sat in the chair and shuffled from side to side trying to get comfortable.

  “Henry?”

  “I’m having a problem with Robbie. I’ve been yell
ing at him for things. I did it again today.”

  “What kind of yelling?”

  “I don’t know. Yelling.” Henry shrugged. “Not exactly Frank type. But certainly near Joe type.”

  “That’s not too bad. What are you yelling at him for?”

  “He keeps doing things in the wrong order. I tell him how they’re supposed to be done, but he doesn’t do it that way.”

  “Is he getting the final results you want?” Ellen asked.

  “Yes. But he’s doing it in the wrong sequence.”

  “As long as he gets it done right, what difference does it make?”

  “None I guess. I don’t know, I just can’t put my finger on it. Do you know I started to really like Michelle and now she won’t even look at me? She only has eyes for Robbie.”

  “That’s because he’s so cute.”

  Henry rolled his eyes at her and slumped in his chair. “If you’re trying to make me feel better El, you’re not doing it very well. Did you know that since Joe gave his, have-a-baby-talk, Robbie’s been propositioned four times?”

  “I heard. But he turned them down. Maybe he’s gay and that will solve your problem with him.”

  “What problem? I don’t know what the problem is.”

  “Jealousy. You know, the problem you have with Robbie’s effect on women.” Ellen folded her hands before her. Her diagnosis was complete.

  “I don’t have a problem with Robbie’s effect on women.”

  “Yes you do, Henry, what do you think this whole conversation has been about?”

  “I was talking about the way he does things. You brought up the women factor.”

  “I did not, you brought it up. You mentioned Michelle.”

  Henry stood up in frustration. “I mentioned Michelle, yes. You brought up the other women.”

  “No, I said he was cute. You brought up the other women. So you obviously have a problem with it. That’s your problem.”

  “I don’t have a problem with Robbie and other women!” Henry yelled.

  “Henry, if you were going to get upset when I gave you my advice, you shouldn’t have asked for it.”

  “I didn’t ask for your advice, I came in here to talk to you. You changed the subject to fit what you wanted to talk about.”

  “No I did not, that’s not what I’m here for. I’m here to listen. Perhaps I’m not the one you should be asking help from.”

  “Perhaps not.” Henry felt worse than he did when he walked in. At that moment, he was still trying to determine what had transpired. He rambled and muttered to himself as he stormed from her office.

  Ellen looked up when she heard a Henry shriek of frustration from out in the hall. It rumbled and growled. Chalking it up to his not liking her advice, she returned to her work.

  “El?” Robbie knocked once on the doorway of her office, then stepped inside. “What’s wrong with Henry?” He pointed back.

  “Oh. He asked for my advice and didn’t like it.”

  “Henry’s uptight.” Robbie sat down in the chair across from her desk. He noticed Ellen’s locked stared on him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Why did you . . .”

  “El!” Denny’s screams precluded his slamming footsteps that neared her office. He screeched to a frantic halt in her doorway. “El . . . El . . help.”

  Ellen jumped up from her seat. “What’s wrong?”

  “Clark, that one guy . . .” Denny caught his breath. “Little Buddy, he took his book and he . . . he threw him . . .”

  “Shit.” Robbie jumped up and flew from the office.

  Denny looked mortified. “He’s going nuts in there, El.”

  Ellen raced around her desk and opened the top drawer, as she did she grabbed her radio. “Frank. Frank come in. Trouble at containment.” She set down the radio, pulled a syringe and vial from her top drawer. Quickly she plunged the syringe in, retracted the fluid, pulled out the needle, set down the vial and tapped out the bubbles as she ran from her office.

  Two fleeing survivors, one of which was holding the eight year old boy, knocked into Ellen as she fled to the skills room. She could hear the crash of furniture and the screaming of Buddy, a boy who was ten. Racing in the skills room, the place was in disarray. Furniture sprawled about, Denny huddling with a bleeding Buddy in a corner.

  Robbie braced Clark around the neck, trying to hold back the raging thin young man who was out of control. Not halfway in Ellen’s stride, syringe in hand, another survivor charged from across the room and dove onto to Robbie’s back. One arm still holding Clark, Robbie shot back his other elbow high nailing that survivor square in the face. The survivor spun around and dropped to the floor.

  Ellen’s uncapped the syringe and raced over to Robbie. “Hold him still!”

  “I’m trying.” Robbie grunted, then cringed in a painful silent scream when Clark seared his teeth deep into the flesh of Robbie’s forearm.

  “One second.” Ellen drew closer, eyes peeled to where she could land the injection. Two steps to them, needle ready, Clark lifted up his body, and with all his weight, reared out his leg kicking his boot into Ellen’s face and sending her flying to the floor.

  Robbie released Clark at the same time that the syringe flew from Ellen’s hand, rolled on the floor and stopped at the boot of Frank who had just stormed in.

  With the strength and action only he had, Frank picked up the syringe, bolted to Clark, gripped him by the throat, slammed him into the wall, and injected him. He held him there until Clark’s eyes rolled behind his head, and his body slumped. Just as he dropped, Frank hoisted him up and over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He grabbed his radio from his belt. “I need medical at containment. We have . . .” Frank took a breath. “Three injured. George, get a bird ready. We’re taking one out.” He began his move across the skills room. “Denny, help them until I get back.”

  “Wait!” Robbie stood up from Ellen and raced to Frank. “What are you doing?”

  “What do you think I’m doing?” Frank marched down the hall.

  “You’re ousting him? Frank.” Robbie hurried to catch him. “Frank.”

  “You’re bleeding. El’s bleeding. Take care of that.” Frank began to punch his code in the door.

  “Frank, you can’t toss him out. He’s not even nineteen.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” The door buzzed and Frank opened it.

  “What! He lost it. It’s normal. We all lose it at times.”

  Frank turned sternly to his brother. “Not in Beginnings you don’t. There are no second chances.” Saying no more, Clark on his shoulder, Frank left containment.

  Robbie was speechless. His heart raced fast and his breath so shallow he didn’t notice the pain in his bleeding arm. He stood in the security doorway shocked and then he saw Ellen walking up the hall.

  “Robbie.” She wiped the blood from her nose. “Are you all right?”

  “Why, El? Why did you have to call Frank? Huh?”

  “What?” Ellen was confused “Robbie. That’s procedure. It’s . . .”

  “Wrong.” Robbie stated strongly. “It’s so wrong. One mistake, call Frank and he just charges in and yanks them out. Problem solved?”

  “It’s the way we do things. I know it doesn’t seem right.”

  “No! It’s not.” Robbie’s strong words physically jolted Ellen. “It’s so easy for you to say that. So easy for him to come in like the big fuckin hero and take them out. Wanna know why. He’s never been out there! And neither have you! You don’t know what it’s like! Maybe if you did, none of this would be so . . . procedure.” After slamming his hand in his anger off the metal door, Robbie stormed out.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Dean didn’t know what to say. He always thought he did, but when he started to speak, what was in his mind never sounded quite as good when it slipped through his lips. Grabbing Andrea to watch the twins, Dean went to where he knew he’d find Ellen. Right where she returned to after he treated her many hours before. Contain
ment. It grew harder for her the longer the survivor was in containment. Dean knew that and he also knew Ellen rarely showed it. In the quiet of the dim containment hall, Dean could hear the squeaking of Ellen’s chair from her office. Just as he suspected, she stared blankly out, rocking back and forth.

  “Hey,” he called out softly stepping in her office. “I thought of singing but . . .”

  “Thank God,” she whispered and raised her eyes to him.

  “How’s the nose?” He walked to her desk and sat on the edge.

  “Huge. I feel like Marcia Brady.”

  Dean chuckled. “It’s not that bad.”

  Ellen looked up to him. “Dean.”

  “All right. It’s big, but . . .” He held his index finger up. “Only where I stitched the nostril. That swelling will go down tomorrow.” He leaned his face closer. “I did tiny ‘Dean’ stitches.” He dropped his voice to an airy one. “Only a hint of a scar.” He stole a quick kiss. “Come home. I know you’re down, but come home. I . . . I want to talk to you about something. It’s pretty important.”

  “It’s not bad is it?” Ellen asked.

  “I hope not.” Dean smiled. “Please?” He held out his hand.

  Ellen reached up and touched his fingers. “It’s just a bad time of year.”

  “I know.” He brought her hand to his lips. “And I know there are some things you feel you can’t . . . you can’t share with me.” He saw her shake her head ‘no’. “El, come on. With V-Day coming up, maybe, whatever . . . God, I’m gonna kick myself for saying this, but maybe you should put aside whatever little disagreement you and Frank have, and do your V-day prep . . .”

  “No.” Ellen gripped his hand and stood up. “I’ve ran to Frank too long and too much. Let’s go home.”

  “Can . . .” Robbie interrupted in the office. “Can I just bring her home, Dean? I really need to talk to El.” He stepped inside.

  Dean’s eyes moved from Ellen to Robbie. “I’m O.K. with that. El?”

  Ellen nodded.

  Slipping his hand from Ellen, Dean kissed her on the cheek. “Not too long. O.K.?” Kissing her again, he left.