“Good.” Ellen turned to leave again, when she did she noticed she still held the book he gave her. Handing it back, she looked at the title. The word ‘rebuilding’ caught her eye. “Are you . . . are you really reading this?”
“Yeah.” Frank said sad. “I was . . . I was really reading it.”
“Too bad it says marriage instead of friendship. That would something I would rebuild with you.” She handed the book to him and turned reaching for the door.
“El! Wait! Wait.”
Ellen halted in her grip of the knob. Behind her she heard shuffling. Then Frank’s cursing. “Frank?”
“Shit.” Frank shook a pen as he held the book. “It doesn’t want to write on this slick shit.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Ellen asked.
“You said if it said friendship instead of marriage. I’ll make it friendship. I’ll go through every fuckin page of this book. All . . .” Frank flipped through to the end. “All two hundred and seventy five pages. I’ll change every marriage word to friendship. I’ll do it. I will.” He sounded desperate. “I don’t need you to be my wife, El. I don’t need you in my bed. I just . . . I just need you in my life.” Frank extended the book back out to her.
Ellen looked at it. She saw the shininess of the cover and the indentation of Frank’s valiant efforts to change the title. Slowly shaking her head, Ellen took the book.
^^^^
Alexandra was a picture of Ellen, Dean thought. He sat on the couch, his daughter before him, and towel dried her wet hair. “Feeling better?”
“I wasn’t feeling bad, Daddy.”
Smiling, Dean reached for his shirt on the couch and placed it on his daughter, helping her tiny arms through. He grabbed the comb and started combing her hair.
“Daddy? Where’s Mommy?”
“Uncle Frank had to talk to her. I told you that.” Dean set down the comb.
“Does that make you sad when you think about her leaving?”
“Just between you and me . . .” Dean leaned forward kissing his daughter gently on the nose. “It makes me very sad.” He felt the hand slide across his back and through the corner of his eye, he saw Ellen standing there. Dean leaned closer to Alexandra. “Busted?”
Alexandra giggled and ran off.
“Dean, what’s going on?” Ellen asked.
Dean stood up and walked around the couch. “I bathed the kids.” He grabbed his jacket. “I have to get to the clinic.”
“Am I going somewhere?” Ellen followed him. “You made it sound like I was leaving.”
“Yeah. You’re moving out.” Dean adjusted the collar of his jean jacket.
“Really when?” Ellen asked with a chuckle.
“Whenever . . . whenever you can, El.”
“Dean?” Ellen reached out, grabbed the sleeve to his jacket sand pulled him back. “Did I . . . Did I do something? Why are you kicking me out?”
“I’m not kicking you out. I would just like for you to not depend on staying here.”
Almost saddened, Ellen let go of his sleeve and stepped back. “I don’t understand. I thought . . . I thought things were working out.”
“Yep.” Dean nodded. “They are. And trust me, however you thought it was here, my wishful thinking mind quadrupled it. I like you being here. I am getting used to you being with me and the kids. I can’t be like that, not when Frank wants you back so bad. I’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“Not much.” Ellen defended. “I am not getting back with Frank. I told him I’m moving on.”
“Really?” Dean reached down and lifted her hand that had the book. “Thought I recognized this from the library.”
“No. See.” Ellen held it up. “We’re working on rebuilding our friendship.”
With a chuckle Dean shook his head. “Same difference, El. Friendship between the two of you always breeds a relationship. Whether you are apart a week, a month or ten years, you will get back together. And when you do, that person you moved on to is gonna be at a loss.”
“Dean, if you’re worried about getting hurt, don’t. I won’t let you be alone. I won’t stop being close to you.”
“Who are you kidding?” Dean asked. “El, it’s Frank. I have been hurt so much by you. I love you but I don’t want to get wrapped up in a fantasy of something that may or may not happen. I’d rather not want it at all.”
“I’m not getting back with him. I’m going to move on. I mean it.” Ellen said strong.
“Good.” Dean nodded “Good.” He opened the door. “But I can’t be the one you move on to. I can’t.” He stepped through the door. “I won’t be long.”
“Dean.” Ellen spoke up. “Contrary to what you want, I’m not leaving. My children are here. You . . . are here. You’ll have to throw me out.”
“I won’t do that.”
“Oh, well.” Ellen exhaled and changed her demeanor, trying to bring the mood up. “You’re stuck with me.” She backed away from the door. “Go to work. Shall I make a late dinner for us?”
“El . . .”
“Dean.” Ellen tilted her head.
Dean hesitated for a moment. “Make dinner. I’ll be two hours.” He started to leave again, but stopped. “Oh, and, El? Tell Frank if he wants to rebuild that friendship with you, learn how to spell the word.”
Ellen looked down at the book still in hand, when Dean left. “Oh, my God. I didn’t even notice that.” She chuckled as she noticed he forgot to put the ‘I’ in friendship. Setting down the book, Ellen went to the kitchen.
^^^^
Dean heard the double-clomp of the boots enter his lab and he knew exactly who it was. Results lying by him, he turned on the stool to see Frank. “Trying to be quiet.”
“You looked busy.” Frank walked in further.
A snicker escaped Dean. “Since when do you care?”
“Since you’re working on something about my father. Is that them?” Frank questioned pointing to the folder Dean held.
“Yep.” Dean stood up and handed the folder to Frank.
Frank opened it, looked down, nodded and handed back. “Like I understand that shit. What does it say?”
“First through that procedure we did, we think that we found a . . . a virus that has stricken your father.”
“Did you tell Andrea it isn’t a stroke?”
“No.” Dean shook his head. “I still want this kept under wraps. With it being a virus, I don’t want word to get around. People may panic, think it’s airborne, and who knows where they’ll want to put your father.”
“I get it.” Frank nodded. “Do me a favor. Don’t mention any of this to George.”
“Why would you say that?” Dean was very curious.
“I really think he doesn’t want my Dad to get better. He wants to run this community. Only he’s running it into the ground. He’s screwing around with so much, it’s like he’s doing it on purpose. I’ll tell you Dean, he causes anyone I know any harm with his lame actions, he’s done. And . . . three times this week he threatened to have me ousted .”
“You’re kidding me? He threatened you?” Dean ran his hand through his hair. It shocked him to hear that. In fact, it made George look even guiltier. “Look, Frank, don’t do anything rash with him. He can’t oust you, but on the outside chance he figures a way to, we’re all screwed. I really don’t think he’s stable, and your father will handle him when he gets well.”
“Are you saying you think he’ll make a full recovery?”
“I’m saying I know he’ll make a full recovery. Just give me time to beat this thing. Four or five weeks tops.”
“All right. I’ll try to hold off killing George until then,” Frank said as if he were actually holding off on a plan in motion. “In the meantime, I’ll speak to Henry since he’s on council. Maybe he can stop George from cutting all my security.”
“Why is he cutting security?” Dean asked.
“He doesn’t think we’re in any threat. I think that he’s just pissing
me off to get me out and he’s screwing around with the safety of the community to do so.”
“Do you think there’s a threat of something?”
“I think there’s a big threat.” With confidence Frank spoke. “Every day we had SUTS coming to the gate, now, nothing. I don’t think that the SUTs are gone. I think they’re gathering somewhere waiting to attack us. But . . . I’m ready. My men are ready, despite the fact that George cut my drills.”
There was that name again, George. And right there, Dean wanted to tell Frank everything about George that he and Henry suspected. But he knew if he did, Frank would go ballistic. And if Frank did that, without any viable proof, he would be gone. Disliking Frank or not, Dean knew there wasn’t a soul who could protect Beginnings like Frank. “Just bide time, Frank. Please. I’ll get you father well.”
“Thanks.” Frank backed up. “I’ll let you get back to work.”
“Yeah, Jason is supposed to stop by, and I want to get home. El’s making us . . .” Dean paused and turned his back. He cleared his throat. “I just wanna get ...”
“Dean.” Frank interrupted. “That’s O.K. I want you to know I’m not running interference. El, she needs you in her life and I won’t get between that friendship. If I force her to stay away, it’ll cause more problems when she doesn’t.”
Dean had to laugh. He hid it well. Over his shoulder he looked at Frank. “I’m not buying that.”
“You should. We working to rebuild our friendship.” There was a hesitation before Frank continued. “But you and I know . . .”
“You’ll get back fully.” Dean finished the sentiment. “I know. But they were nice words, Frank.”
“I mean them. Hey.” Frank spoke upbeat. “I read them in Chapter Two of Rev. Bob’s book. There’s a whole section on making sure you let your spouse keep their friends.”
Another snicker came from Dean. “Speaking of friendship. When you wrote the word on the cover you didn’t put an ‘I’ in friendship.”
“I know. Because Dean, there is no ‘I’ in friendship. Really, when you think about it, should there be?”
Dean’s chin dropped and his mouth stayed open “God!” he boasted loud with a dramatic cringing flare of his body. “I cannot believe something that good came from you!”
“Yeah. Thought of it myself.” Frank grinned arrogantly. “El will love it.” Still looking at Dean’s gasping mouth, Frank walked out. He paused in the hall to take a gloating moment. He took from the inside of the jacket of Rev. Bob’s book. Biting his bottom lip, Frank nodded. “Oh, yeah. He bought it. Thank you, Chapter Three. Show the other person you are the better man. Rev. Bob can’t say I’m not following his advice.” After tapping the paperback on his palm, Frank put the book back and walked away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Dean tapped Joe’s chart against his leg as he walked to Joe’s room. An odd rhythm he tapped, perhaps to the song he had playing in his head. He slowed down the quick pace when he reached the door way. Joe was sitting in a chair with Frank across from him. With a huge grin, and seemingly perky stride, Dean walked in. “Morning, Joe. Hey, Frank.” Dean set the chart down. “So, Frank, how’s your Dad today?”
“He’s sitting in a fuckin’ chair staring out, what the hell do you think?”
“O.K., the same.” Dean widened his eyes and faced Joe. He placed his hands on the arms of Joe’s chair. “Hey Joe guess what? I think I’ve finally isolated that . . . virus you have. This is good. I did it fast. Just give me a few weeks and I’ll get you out of this. I know it seems like a long time, but that’s nothing compared to how long it would be if we continued to believe you had a stroke.”
It was good news to Joe. ‘A few weeks is fine Dean. Just get me out of this without opening those files.’
“Good news, too. It’s all through your blood stream. All through.” Dean’s hands flew about. “Jason and I are trying an experiment this morning. Ellen’s coming to get more blood.” Dean turned his head. “Speaking of Ellen.”
Ellen smiled widely carrying with her the phlebotomy tray. She walked to Joe. “Morning, Joe.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Morning, Dean. Frank.”
Setting his chair down to all fours on her entrance, Frank smiled “Hey El.”
Ellen placed down her tray, and began to get her things ready. “Hon, why am I taking so much blood from Joe? It’s an abnormally large amount?”
Frank leaned forward. “I don’t know. Ask Dean, he’s the doctor.”
Ellen laughed and turned her head to him. “I was asking Dean. Dean? Why?”
“Um . . . well,” Dean stammered for an answer. “El, to be honest he really isn’t needing it, so, I thought I’d use it for some experiments.”
“Andrea is wondering what you are doing with it,” Ellen stated as she placed the tourniquet on Joe’s arm.
Dean cringed, covering his eyes. “Gees, El.” He lowered his hand grabbing hers that reached for her tubes. “Please, don’t tell Andrea anything. Please.”
“O.K.” Ellen shrugged and grabbed the needle. “But you know how she is about Joe.” She prepared to insert it. “And when I mentioned her questioning me about taking all this blood to George he...”
Joe thought it while Frank and Dean screamed it at the same time. A blasting ‘uh!’
Ellen screamed. “God.” After a moment, she grabbed for a towel. “Shit.” She laid it on Joe’s arm which pulsated blood from her jamming too much with the needle. “See what you made me do to him. I hit an artery. God, scream at me.” She cringed. “Sorry Joe.”
“El.” Dean walked up to her. “No one. No one is to know about the unethical taking of Joe’s blood.”
“I’d say.” Frank interjected peering at the wound Ellen caused. “Especially with the method you take it.” He whistled then winked at his father. “Good thing you can’t feel it, huh Dad?”
Morons, Joe thought.
Ellen gasped. “I’m good at what I do when you aren’t screaming at me. If no one is to know why does Frank know?” Ellen began to try to take blood from Joe again.
“He’s my Dad. Dean needed my permission.” Frank stated.
“So why are you giving permission to Dean to take all this blood from you father.” Ellen question while performing the procedure correctly.
“Payback. He was so mean to me as a child.” Frank leaned down and kissed his father. “Got to go. Bye, Dad. See ya, El. Dean.”
Dean nodded and moved to the door after Frank left. “I’m leaving too. Drop that off when you’re done.”
“Yep.” Ellen agreed then shook her head. “Sick people in this community, Joe. Almost done.”
Joe just stared at her. The woman was always looked happy to take his blood and she had the nerve to call others sick. He was just glad he wasn’t going to be her live, grown up, dress up doll.
“Done.” Ellen stated. “I’ll drop this off then I’ll be back.” She removed the last tube of blood and tossed it in her tray. “Because I have a really great shirt for you to wear today and . . . I want to try parting your hair in the middle. See ya.” She kissed Joe quickly and left.
Deep inside his soul Joe grunted at Ellen’s words. He spoke, or rather thought, too soon.
^^^^
George, in a crouch before the back perimeter, peered over the tops of glasses. “Fine.” He stood up brushing his hands.
Greg looked curiously at him. “Fine?” He watched George trot off. “Sir.” He hurried to catch him. “It’s falling off. Something happened to the switch box.”
George stopped walking. “Does it work?”
“Yes. I think. But . . .”
“Then it doesn’t take priority. No Requisition. Mechanics is busy enough.” George began to walk away.
Again Greg followed George. “But, George. Look, it’s a vulnerable spot. The back gate is so accessible to anyone. Maybe I should mention to Frank . . .”
“Frank is not in charge!” George blasted sending Greg a foot back. “I run the communi
ty. I say what is deemed important and what is not. That box is not important yet. It’s not important enough to warrant wasting mechanics time or mine. Drop it. Now do your job, Greg while I do mine.” Huffing, George stormed off.
Greg scratched his head. “O.K.” He tossed his hands up. “I thought I was doing my job.” He took the pencil from behind his ear and placed the eraser toward the paper. Just when he was about to erase the report on the broken perimeter switch box, he stopped. George didn’t see a need for it to be mentioned however Frank would want to know any changes in the fence no matter how small. Thinking of who frightened him more, George or Frank, Greg placed his pencil back and left the information about the broken box right on the report.
^^^^
“It truly is amazing, Jason.” Dean spoke with excitement as he stood before the long line of rabbit cages in the cryo-lab. “It is all through the blood. I spun it down and it definitely spilled into the serum.”
“That’s what we needed to hear. So what are we doing?” Jason asked.
Dean handed him a clip board. “I want to try something. I want to see if what’s in Joe’s blood can cause the effects on a subject smaller than he. And if it does, I may be able to create an antidote with it.” Dean took a syringe and filled it with the clear serum he had extracted from Joe’s blood. He opened up the first rabbit cage and pulled out the spotted one. “Easy.” The rabbit squirmed in his hand. “Where should I inject him?”
“Might as well hit the skull area.”
“Might as well.” Dean, fighting the rabbit, injected a partial amount of what was in the syringe. Within seconds the rabbits back arched and its paws flopped to its sides. “Shit.”
“Is he dead?”
Dean laid down the needle and placed his palm on the stomach of the rabbit. “Nope.” He turned it right side up, then upside down. Each time the rabbit just flopped, its eyes still open. “Looks it, but he’s not.”
“Wow Dean, how much did you inject him with?”
“One CC. So, mark that down and note the time. We’ll see how long it takes for him to come back. Let’s try a smaller dose, cut it in half.” Dean opened the next cage and pulled out its occupant. He grabbed the needle and injected it. Again, the rabbit went lifelessly still. “Mark that down, one half a CC. Smaller does?”
The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series Page 145
