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

by Jacqueline Druga

  “Thank you again.” Melissa lifted the baby’s hand to give a wave. “Say goodbye.” She smiled again and walked happily down the hall very with her child.

  Ellen let out a breath. “That was close. Good thing mothers never see the bad in their child.”

  “Nothing’s bad about Marcus El. He’s just . . . just . . .he’s . . .”

  “Very carnivorous?”

  “Excellent word.” Dean nodded. “Hey. Go down to Joe’s. I’ll meet you there. I want to grab that paper. I want to see Joe’s hand control.”

  “Why are you making Joe write? In all my years of nursing, never have I seen a doctor give a piece of paper and a pencil to a stroke victim the first time they move.”

  “El.” Dean pointed.

  “I’m going. But don’t be long.” Ellen placed her hands behind her back and walked to Joe’s room. The moment she stepped inside, the smile fell from her face. “Frank? Oh God, what happened?”

  Frank was lifting his father in bed. “I came in here and he was slumping in the chair.”

  “Oh no.” She moved to Joe. “His eyes are still open.” She grabbed his hand. “Joe. Joe, come on. Joe, squeeze me hand Joe.” She placed her face close to his. “Joe, please squeeze my hand.”

  “El.” Frank grabbed her hand and took it from his father. “I tried that. I did.”

  Dean wondered what was going on as he stepped into the room. “El? Frank?”

  With growing sad eyes, Ellen faced Dean. “He’s relapsed.”

  “No way.” Dean moved to the bed. “He couldn’t have.” He looked down at Joe. “Frank what happened?”

  “I came in here and found him.” Frank said.

  Dean, shaking his head, pulled out his penlight, and shined it in Joe’s eyes. “Pupillary response is good.” He clicked it off placing it back in his pocket. “Can I have a minute to examine him?”

  Frank nodded and stepped back, as he did he grabbed Ellen’s hand, pulling her with him, so naturally to the hall. Not speaking, he looked down at his hand that held Ellen’s. He was holding her hand, she wasn’t holding his.

  “I’d better . . .” She stepped back. “I’d better see if Dean needs me in there.” She pointed back with her thumb, pulling from his hold.

  “But I need you out here.” He pulled on her arm, stepping closer to her, slowly, just wanting to hold her.

  Ellen saw him drawing closer to her. She felt his hand slip up her back and to her head. Before he stepped any closer, Ellen pulled away. “I’m sorry, Frank.”

  Painfully, he closed his eyes. “El, in our entire lives you have never once walked away when I needed you. Don’t . . . don’t let this be the first time.” He opened his eyes, she was still there. He could see the look of debate on her face. “I know things are really, really bad between us. But I need you right now. Could you at least just stand here with me?”

  Ellen stopped walking backward. She stepped closer to him and leaned against the wall outside of Joe’s room.

  “Thanks.” Frank leaned against the wall next to her. It was good enough. It was a start. Without any more needing to be said, Frank rested his head back while he and Ellen waited.

  ^^^^

  His examination of Joe brought nothing but frustration. It was so unexplained. So wrong. It confused Dean why his mind kept going to George. But how could George cause Joe to have a stroke or at least make it look like that. Dean was a doctor and the doctor in him, the scientist in him, told him ‘no’. It was medical and Dean’s reason for thinking such was his mistrust of George and his inability to find the missing piece to what Joe’s true medical condition was.

  He sat in a chair next to Joe. He held the hand that not one hour earlier was gripping so tightly to Frank. Dean stared at Joe’s face, and at Joe’s eyes that looked straight ahead, looking far off. “This isn’t right, Joe. This just isn’t right.” He spoke out loud. “Something is not right.” Dean watched Joe’s eyes move from his straight ahead stare. They shifted to Dean, making deep contact on Dean’s final word and his heart skipped a beat. “What is it? What is it that you’re trying to tell me? What am I missing?”

  It was a start, a small one, but a start. Dean knew at that instant, Joe’s response was not one of someone who had a stroke. But of someone who was telling him, ‘yes, you missed something. Yes, if you try harder you can find it’. And Dean would try harder. He had to figure out what was happening. And Dean knew, if it was the last thing he ever did, he would get Joe back. He would get the man so strong, out of the world he looked so trapped inside.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  It could have been just about anything that could set Frank off, causing him to yell that loud ear cringing ‘hey!’. But at that particular moment, it was the song that played on the jukebox in the social hall. Frank yelled and whoever made that selection would quickly get off their chair and change it. Frank would be satisfied, maybe only a little while, until someone else made the same fatal mistake. Sipping his moonshine slowly--he didn’t want to get drunk--he poured Henry another.

  “Frank, no.” Henry held up his hand.

  “Henry, drink with me.”

  “But you aren’t drinking, you’re sipping. I’m the one drinking.” Henry brought his drink to his lips.

  “What do you suppose they’re doing Henry?” Frank rolled his glass in his hands.

  “Right now they are frantically searching for a song that won’t piss you off.”

  “Not them.” Frank waved his hand. “Ellen and Dean. What do you suppose they’re doing right now? Right now at . . .” Frank looked at his watch. “Nine-forty-seven p.m.?”

  “I couldn’t tell you, Frank. But if you wait until nine-forty-eight, I may have a better idea.”

  “I’m not joking.”

  “What do you want me to tell you Frank?” Henry stated rather annoyed. “I can’t tell you what I don’t know, and I won’t tell you what you want to hear.”

  Frank breathed out deeply. “Drink up.” He watched Henry finish his drink and he poured him another. “Probably being one big happy family, and now they have my baby over there. My kid.”

  “Stop that.” Henry took the drink, not even paying attention that Frank kept adding the more he sipped. “You’ll drive yourself crazy.”

  “Go over there, Henry.”

  “Why?”

  “Just go over and visit. Hang out until one of them goes to sleep. Please?”

  “No, I won’t go over there and be your spy.”

  “He stole my wife.”

  “He didn’t steal your wife.” Henry began to get pissed. “You were the one that made it perfectly clear to everyone that it was over. And then you dogged her. Face it.” He looked down to his drink. He paused before taking a drink swearing the full glass was nearly empty last time he checked. Shrugging he sipped it.

  “I want her back, Henry, I want her back bad. I love her.” Frank replenished his glass.

  “Have you told her?” Henry asked.

  “No. Not yet. I am tomorrow. I’m telling her whether she wants to hear it or not. And she and I will work this out, damn it.”

  “O.K.” Henry leaned back. “Has it occurred to you that maybe she doesn’t want to?”

  “Fuck that, she will.” Frank grabbed the bottle. “She better. If she’s says no. Tough. She’s coming home.”

  “See you’re doing this all wrong.” Henry rubbed his eyes. They were starting to feel heavy. “You can’t just barge in, say El, I want you back and then take her.”

  “Yes I can. She’s my wife.”

  “You keep saying she’s your wife. Well she can’t be all that much your wife if she’s living with another man. She’s moving on Frank. And she’s well on her way to doing it . . . with Dean.”

  “I know this.” Frank’s expression showed how painfully he knew it. “I’m dealing with that. But I don’t want her there anymore. What do I do?”

  “Work to get back with her. Work Frank.”

  “You’re a good fr
iend. You’d be a better friend if you went over there and paid them a visit.” Frank filled Henry’s glass.

  “No. I’m not doing that. Don’t mention it again.”

  “I won’t.” Frank wallowed. “She’d never buy you stopping by out of the blue, drunk.” Just as he sank into his drink, his eyes shifted and Frank lifted his head with a big smile. “Never buy you stopping by all drunk.”

  ^^^^

  “El.” Dean ran his hand on her legs that extended across his lap as she lay on the couch. He used her legs as a desk, placing his notepad down on them, writing, lifting it back up. “Would you classify yellow fever as a modern day threat?” He lowered his glasses as he asked her.

  “No.” She paid little attention to him as she sat reading a magazine, its edges yellowing and tattered.

  “What are you reading?” Dean smiled.

  “Soap Opera magazine.” She giggled and turned the page. “I have a bunch in my memorabilia box. You’ve seen them.”

  “Yeah I did.” He laid the tablet on her shins. “Why wouldn’t you?”

  “Why wouldn’t I what?” She flipped a page. “Cute.” She smiled. “Dean?” She turned the magazine to face him. “Do you think men will ever look like this again? So . . . so beautiful.”

  “Ellen.” He lifted the magazine from her hand. “I’m trying to talk to you.”

  “Sorry.” Ellen sat up, moving closer, keeping her legs over his. “I’m all yours.”

  Dean grinned. “Here.” He shared his notes. “I’m trying to come up with a list of things that could possibly be in those vials. Things that I can look for specifically.”

  “It wouldn’t be yellow fever. Yellow fever is not a North American threat, or at least wasn’t. What if there’s something in those vials you haven’t seen or can’t identify. Like our plague.”

  “I’ve thought of that . . . and.” Dean took off his glasses, setting them down. “That’s where you come in. You have to work harder on those passwords.”

  “I’m working like a damn dog.”

  “And I appreciate it.” He brought Ellen closer. “I do.” He rested his arm behind her head. “Even though you stare at a dead man’s picture wishing the men of Beginnings looked like that.”

  “Dean, if it makes you feel any better, I’ll stare at your picture too when you die.”

  “Thanks El.” He brought his hand to her face, speaking sarcastically. “That makes me feel a lot better.” Slowly her brought his lips to hers, touching them only briefly before a knocking happened at the door. A steady knocking. “Frank?”

  “Too soft.” Ellen swung her legs off of Dean’s and jumped from the couch. She opened the door. At first peering out, Ellen thought perhaps someone brought back the old world annoying habit of knocking at someone’s door and running. But then she smelled the alcohol blast and she looked down.

  Josephine hiccupped and swayed in the door. “Hey. I . . .” Another hiccup. “We got a problem with your tunnel boy.”

  “Who?” Ellen asked confused.

  “Henry goddamn it! Now come on.”

  After a wave of her hand to bat away the bad alcohol, Ellen snickered, shrugged and followed old lady Josephine.

  ^^^^

  When Ellen heard the singing, she laughed, but of course that was coupled with the fact that she got a kick out of watching Josephine run off. Smiling as she reached the end of her row of house, ready to turn toward town, the smile dropped. Frank was escorting Henry toward his home. Ellen turned to leave.

  “El, wait.” Frank called out.

  “El! Wait.” Henry mocked.

  Ellen stopped. She closed her eyes and shook her head when she heard the whispering between the two men. Turning around, she jumped back and they were right before her. “What?”

  Sloppily and sluggish, Henry reached forward. “El. God.” his head swayed. “God . . . God.”

  Frank grunted. “He’s pathetic. Speaking this religious shit all night. Shut up, Henry.” Frank escorted Henry toward the house. “Can you help me with him, El?”

  “El.” Henry looked at her. “He won’t let me go . . .”

  “To the social hall.” Frank interrupted. “No more. I told you.”

  Henry gasped loudly as Frank walked him up the steps to his house. “You lie!” Henry spun around, losing his balance. “He lies, El. I wanted to go home. But he had to keep me out, telling me love stories and making me feel lonelier. Do you know how lonely I feel?”

  Ellen raised an eyebrow. “I can only imagine.”

  “No. You can’t.” Henry shook his head. “Frank can. Cause he’s lonely now.” He didn’t see the cringe on Frank’s face. “And . . . and . . . I think I’m gonna pass out.” Without another word Henry just fell forward into Frank.

  Frank hoisted him up. “Can you help me now, El?”

  Lifting her arms in a shrug, Ellen walked around Frank and opened the door, When Frank and Henry passed through, she let go of the door and left. She wasn’t five steps away when she heard the loud ‘thump’ followed by a groan. Ellen turned around, Frank was running to her. “You didn’t just drop him in there, did you?”

  “Um . ..” Frank looked back. “No. I laid him on the couch.”

  “Right.” Ellen shook her head and started to walk.

  “Hey, El.” Frank reached out, grabbed her hand and stopped her. “Uh, I was gonna stop and see my Dad. You wanna go?”

  “I was there all night. Probably while you were . . .” She tip toed up and sniffed. “…drinking. I’m going home.”

  “Wait.” Frank darted the three houses and halted her right as she stepped to Dean’s house. “I really . . . do you wanna take a walk, maybe for a little. And just . . . just talk with me.”

  “No. No I don’t, Frank. Night.” She opened the door and walked in the house.

  ^^^^

  Jason Godrichson had a hard time rationalizing the reasoning behind Beginnings’ inner office mail system. He was given a slot at the clinic and the only thing of importance that ever made it in there was the weekly memo from Joe. Since Joe had fallen ill, those memos stopped. Jason rarely read what was placed in his slot, especially the junk mail as he called it. Why Jenny Matoose insisted on giving him a reminder for the weekly women’s meeting, was beyond him. Jason did admit he chuckled at the frequent, ‘attractive woman available for comfort time’ advertisements he got from Josephine.

  Enjoying one of his five rationed apples, Jason’s fingers tapped on the keyboard of his computer in his quantum lab as he sifted through the stuff from his mail slot. Had there not been a bloody thumb print on the note, Jason wouldn’t have read it. A note from Dean needing Jason to meet him for his vital expert opinion. Figuring it was Dean’s way of buttering up Jason for more rabbits, Jason placed the note aside. He’d see Dean in the morning.

  Smiling and ready to top off his night by throwing himself full force into his ‘true’ work, Jason hit the keyboard with a final dramatic strike. When he did, he heard the sizzle then coughed at the minuscule puff of smoke that blew at him. Shaking his head with a chuckle, Jason put down his apple, stood up and grabbed the fire extinguisher and broom. He wasn’t letting the failure of the moment bring him down. He’d just clean up and try again.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “So you understand, Jason?” Dean asked, near a whisper in the clinic lab.

  “I believe so. But is it right? Joe is Andrea’s patient,” Jason said.

  “I think it’s more wrong to ignore it. After all . . .” Dean looked up when Andrea waltzed in. “The quantum experiment is so vital to the community.”

  Jason caught on to the sudden change of subject. “And interesting. I think a lecture is just what we . . .” He saw Andrea leave. He dropped his voice to a whisper again. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

  “I was hoping you would.” Dean said. “I mentioned in my note about expert opinion.”

  “Perhaps the blood smudge blocked that out.” Jason said sarcastically. “I never did the p
rocedure. I would feel better . . .” Through the corner of his eye he saw Melissa walk in she smiled to them. Jason smiled back. “If . . . if my experiment was more welcomed.”

  “Oh, please.” Dean’s acting left a lot to be desired. “Everyone is thrilled with your work.” When Melissa jotted out, Dean lowered his voice. “We could read up on it.”

  “We’d need an assistant.” Jason suggested.

  “I could talk to Henry. He’d keep it secret.”

  “I still would feel better if we had permission. Even if Frank would say it’s O.K. I’d be able to justify . . .” Another intruder, another quick change of topic. Jason cleared his throat. “Justify speaking so long on the subject of space time continuum.”

  “Gone.” Dean stated when Scott left. “All right, this is grand central station right now. I’ll get Frank’s permission. Will you do the procedure on Joe with me?”

  “Get the permission. Get Henry. I’ll get the books.”

  “Deal.” With relief, Dean shook his hand and smiled

  ^^^^

  In the back of the chapel, while the slight organ music played, and Reverend Bob spoke, Henry and Frank sat in the last pew, the one very few people in Beginnings occupied.

  “Henry, sit up.” Frank leaned over to him, whispering.

  “My head hurts too badly.” He leaned forward holding his palms to his temples. “Why am I in church with you?”

  “I don’t know. I wanted you to come.”

  “Why are you in church, Frank?”

  A ‘shh’ came from the pew in front of them.

  Frank waved his hand at them. “Reverend Bob said he wouldn’t talk to me unless I came.”

  “You going to talk to him about Ellen?”

  “Well I’m not talking to him about becoming a priest. I want you to help me talk to him.”

  Another ‘shh’, another Frank wave.

  “Frank, people are gonna start talking. First you and I are out drinking then we’re in church. I know they’re gonna start looking at us like those two guys in fabrics.”