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

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The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series Page 270

by Jacqueline Druga


  “Oh no Joe, I don’t think.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  Henry stopped walking, placed his hands in the pockets of is blue work pants and looked up to the sky.

  “Henry? Are you trying to pull back from her?”

  “Not intentionally.”

  “But you are.”

  “I know,” Henry said sadly.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Joe was wise. He had been around the block once too many times. By the look of him, Joe knew Henry wasn’t as confused about things as he appeared to be. All Joe had to do was get him to start talking and he knew Henry would open up like a bad wound. “I think you do. You thought you two were married, you aren’t. You’re upset maybe because she doesn’t want to make it legit now?”

  “A little, yeah.”

  “But Henry, you both told me there were reasons other than to end the Frank and Dean thing.”

  “True.”

  “So the reasons weren’t ‘real’ marriage reasons.”

  “No, Joe, they weren’t.”

  Joe nodded. “So how can you be upset if she doesn’t want to continue the facade?”

  “Because she doesn’t want to end the façade,” Henry said. “She wants me to play this whole wedding thing out, if need be, all the way to the altar. It’s a mock wedding that is making a mockery of all that we were.”

  “Your marriage was a mockery.”

  Henry gasped. “That’s not true, Joe. We still were friends. We still got along. We were great companions.”

  “Were?”

  “Were.” Henry stated. “I can’t explain, Joe, but even though we weren’t husband and wife in the physical sense, we were in all other ways.”

  Joe nodded. “Makes sense. Maybe you need to tell her this. Maybe you need to explain how you feel instead of avoiding her until she forgets about you all together.”

  “And she will.”

  “Yep.” Joe pulled out a cigarette. “Not that she doesn’t have a child to remind her, but … she’ll move on, that’s Ellen.”

  “I know.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, Henry, I like the way you two get along.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep, you’re annoying as shit, but she’s happy and doesn’t fight.”

  Henry’s head lowered.

  “What is it, Henry? What is it you aren’t saying?”

  “I wish I could say.”

  “Then if you can’t say it to me, say it to Ellen.”

  “I can’t. Just like I can’t tell her I really want to be married to her the way we were, I can’t tell her that because more I think about it, the more I don’t deserve it.”

  Joe almost laughed. “Don’t deserve it? What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Things, Joe … just things. I didn’t do things right, I know it. I …” Henry tossed out his hand. “I know it.”

  “If I didn’t know any better, I would swear you feel guilty.”

  Henry went from looking down to making eye contact with Joe.

  “What do you feel guilty about, Henry?”

  “I deceived my best friend, and despite how he acts now, the deception is there. It’ll never be the same. I Deceived him Joe and I still am by wanting Ellen.”

  “They broke up long before you and Ellen snuck off and thought you got married.”

  “I deceived him before that,” Henry said.

  “Are you talking about Nick?” Joe stepped to him. “Henry? Are you talking about Nick’s conception. My daughter swears up and down that she hasn’t a clue how that happened? Is she lying?”

  “No, Joe, she’s not.”

  Joe hit his cigarette and slowly released the smoke as he nodded. “Then how can you feel guilty? How can you feel as if you deceived Frank if the conception is a mystery or a product of a ripple you haven’t figured out?”

  On that, Henry only shrugged.

  “I see. Well, I feel like I can’t help you. You know what you want to do. I can only advise you. If you don’t want to help Ellen get close to Jenny by doing this mock wedding … and it won’t make it to the altar, then don’t do it. Tell her. If it’s something else … you tell her.” Joe started to walk away, but stopped. “And Henry, let me advise you of one other thing. I believe Ellen doesn’t know how Nick was conceived. But please, do not let me find out … that you do.”

  Joe only looked at Henry one more time and, with cigarette still in hand, he parted ways, leaving Henry facing the direction of the mobile lab.

  <><><><>

  “Jenny, I must say that I am touched you stopped by for this.” Ellen huddled toward the window in her talk with Jenny.

  “It wouldn’t be very fair Ellen. You’re part of our meetings now. If you have something that needs brought up, then it will be brought up.”

  “Tell me, Jenny.” Ellen spoke in a whisper. “You aren’t going to do that special craft tonight, are you?”

  Jenny giggled. “Now I remembered that you wanted to do that. No, two weeks Ellen. We’ll wait two or three weeks. You know what you have to bring, right?”

  “Oh sure.”

  “Good. So you haven’t any ideas you need told?” Jenny watched Ellen shake her head. “Anything for the forum, problems, or such?”

  Ellen’s eyes lifted and her head motioned back. “How about something about him?” She indicated to Dean.

  “Oh.” Jenny nodded. “I read your entry for the game. Is he still being like that?”

  “Terrible Jenny, just terrible.” Ellen heard Dean’s gasp, but she was sure Jenny didn’t. “Throw that in your open forum.”

  “Well, I can give you my opinion right now. Dean needs to grow up.” A loud ‘hey!’ came through Jenny’s radio. “Yes, grow up, Dean. Be a big boy and share your toys.”

  Dean had enough of Ellen’s snickering at Jenny’s comment. He stood from his seat, marched with intimidation over to the window, and reached for the radio. “Give me that and get back to work.”

  “Hey.” Ellen smacked his hand. “I’m speaking to my new friend. See Jenny, see how he is with me. You’re seeing first hand. All because I slept, slept mind you, in the same bed as Frank. How immature.”

  “And childish,” Jenny added. “You should have had sex with him and that would have shown Dean.”

  Ellen, still struggling with the radio, depressed the button. “I would have Jenny, but I had that after-baby thing happening with my body.”

  Dean grunted and let go of the radio. “Fine, go talk to Jenny.” He took a step back. “Faker.”

  Ellen giggled. “What was that? Faker. Oh Dean, bad word. I’m telling Henry how mean you’re being to me.”

  Dean stopped walking and moved to her. “Oh yeah. Well tell him, if you ever see him again.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean.”

  Jenny tried to interject. “Ignore him. He’s playing mind games with you because he knows you’re stuck here.”

  Ellen held out her hand. “Explain Dean. What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Where is he El? Your extra limb? I think he’s avoiding you. Where is he, El?”

  Ellen grinned widely and stood up. “Right there. Henry!” She waved like an excited child.

  Dean tossed his hands in the air. “I spoke too soon.” He went back to his work, bitching under his breath at the ‘gang up on Dean’ hour that wasn’t going to end now.

  Jenny turned around to see Henry stepping from the jeep. “I’ll let you two alone. I’ll stop by tomorrow to let you know about the meeting.”

  “Thanks, Jenny. Sorry I’m missing it. I really am. I liked it last week.” She watched Henry near. “Great shade of blue you’re wearing.”

  Jenny smiled and turned her radio off. She stopped at Henry before walking by him. “Here’s our groom.”

  “Your what?”

  “Groom.” She tapped him on the cheek then kissed him there. “Cute.”

  Henry’s mouth dropp
ed open in disgust and he immediately ran his hand over the spot she touched. “God.”

  “Bye Henry.”

  “Uh!” Henry raised his shirt up to wipe the water from his eyes. “Where did you get that color?”

  “Ben.” She wiggled her fingers, knowing she irked him and kept on walking.

  Still open mouthed, Henry walked in a cringing hunch to the mobile window. He looked back one more time at Jenny, shuddered then turned to Ellen. “She kissed me, El.”

  “She knows you don’t like her.”

  “God, it was sweaty.” He wiped his face again. “Tell her not to do it again or I’ll have to be rude.”

  “I’ll tell her, Henry.” She stood close to the window. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “I’m sorry that I’ve been so busy. I was wrong.”

  “That’s O.K.”

  “No, it’s not. I want you to know I wish I could be in there with you.”

  “You can Henry.” Ellen grinned. “Come on in. Stay with me.”

  “I can’t, El.”

  “I know.” She sulked. “But you’re here now. I’m glad.”

  “You know what? I promise you’re gonna see me all the time now. Every spare moment I have, I’ll be here. O.K.?”

  Ellen smiled at him. “O.K. Thank you. I was beginning to think you didn’t like me anymore or didn’t want to be my friend.”

  “Never El.” Henry shook his head. “But if you keep letting Jenny kiss me, I’m going to have to do something drastic. I’ll . . . I’ll . . . kiss her back . . .”

  “No!”

  “Yes El. And then . . . .”

  “No Henry, don’t say it.” She pulled the radio away.

  “ . . . I’ll kiss you.”

  Ellen let out a loud shriek of disgust. After laughing, she pulled her chair up to sit and talk to Henry. She missed that. She smiled as she talked to him, joked with him, and she more glad he was there than Henry could ever realize.

  <><><><>

  He was hungry and the evening was setting in. Robbie knew, the way Dean and Ellen worked, if he waited for them to eat, then he could actually be waiting well into the next day. He felt a bit rested but he could have been more. But their arguing during the course of the day while he tried to rest interrupted his sleep. He never knew two people could have so much to argue about.

  He got up from bed, feeling stronger, yet still feeling slightly in the fog. He walked down the back hall of the trailer to the kitchen. He could smell food cooking and knowing that either Dean or Ellen cooked, frightened Robbie a little. He was well aware of their culinary capabilities. He moved to the stove and lifted the lid on the pot, a brown substance. It didn’t smell half bad and looked as if it were trying to be a stew. Grabbing a bowl and figuring done or not, it wouldn’t matter when it came to taste. Robbie ladled himself some and went into the living room.

  Ellen’s TV/move player unit was there, and movies too. Rummaging through them, he saw that a lot were his favorites, all apocalyptic movies. The people in Beginnings loved apocalyptic movies. They always were a source of entertainment, not to mention ridicule at how badly the post-apocalyptic future was portrayed by Hollywood.

  Holding his bowl, Robbie popped in a video. They were there for a purpose so he might as well watch them. He plopped down on the couch. His rear-end hit upon something and he flung up. Looking down he saw he sat on a notebook, a Beginnings notebook. Reading the words across the cover ‘Ellen’s do not touch’ Robbie knew it was something private so he opened it up.

  Mean things Dean said?

  Mean things Ellen said?

  Things that couldn’t be taken back?

  All of them were categories in a list Ellen had begun to compile. He laughed as he read the lists that Ellen had made but it confused him. In all the years he had known Dean and Ellen, never had he known them fight or say enough mean things to each other that could take up even one line in a notebook. Yet Robbie sat there reading, not one line, but two whole pages worth. Had things gotten that bad between Dean and Ellen? Were they that badly at each other’s throats? They had to be and with that thought came the one that if they had slipped that far from each other, then the chances of them ever being a couple again grew slim. Smiling at that thought, Robbie returned to reading Ellen’s notes. He wanted to get them all read before she came back. Not that he cared what she thought about him looking in her notebook when she wasn’t there, but because he just didn’t want to hear Ellen bitch.

  <><><><>

  “No see, here’s where you’re wrong.” Frank spoke as he sat at his dining room table that evening. His tone was borderline argumentative, as if he were waiting for a fight. “I’m bigger, much bigger.” His huge finger pointed down to the color sketch that Alexandra had made. “Your dad is a little man. Little Alex, you have to get your perception right if you want people to take you serious as an artist.”

  “But he’s big to me.” She looked so perplexed, holding on to the side of her face, while resting on her elbow.

  “Of course he is. You’re like three feet tall.” Frank sat back. “But otherwise it’s good. Very good.”

  “Did I draw Mommy good?”

  “Uh . . .” Frank looked closer. “Mommy’s good. Her boobs aren’t that big.”

  “Mommy’s boobs look big to me.”

  “Again, you’re little. Everything looks big to you.” Frank stated so scholarly.

  Alexandra’s eyes shifted to the living room to Henry. She leaned forward in a ‘big secret’ mode to Frank. “Pop.”

  Frank leaned in closer, whispering also. “What?”

  “Uncle Henry’s hand. I didn’t make it purple. Should I?”

  “No. It won’t be purple for long.” Frank kept his voice down.

  “Why is it purple? Did he color it?”

  “No, he got burned.”

  “How?”

  Frank grinned. “Your dad.” He tried not to laugh at the horrified look on her face. “Oh yeah, Henry had to get a shot and he wasn’t being good, so your dad burned him.”

  “Will he burn my friends if they’re bad when they get a shot?”

  “Probably,” Frank told her. “You never know about it.”

  Henry had heard enough. “Frank, don’t lie to her. That isn’t very nice.”

  Frank scoffed, “Henry what do you know?”

  “I know Dean didn’t burn me.” Henry looked at Alex. “Your dad didn’t burn me, Alex.”

  “I know.” Her little legs kicked as she sat in the big chair. “Uncle Frank is funny.”

  “See Henry.” Frank stood up from the table. “I’m funny. How is feeding Nick going?” He walked toward the living room.

  “I think he’s done.”

  “Already?” ”

  “Oh sure.” Henry stood up awkwardly holding the child. “He’s overflowing.”

  “What?” Frank snickered in his words. “He doesn’t overflow.”

  “Yes he does look. This white stuff is coming out of his mouth. I give him some bottle, I pull it out . . . he overflows. Done.” Henry set the bottle on the coffee table.

  “You’ve burped him right?” Frank saw Henry’s expression. “You didn’t burp him. Tell me Henry, you burped him.”

  “When was I supposed to do that?”

  “Certainly before he finished most of the bottle,” Frank snapped.

  Henry leaned in. “Well I didn’t know that, Frank. No one told me that.”

  “Henry, anyone with half a goddamn brain knows you have to burp a baby.”

  “Why? Why do I have to burp him? He’s a person. Can’t he do that on his own? It seems rather disgusting me making him burp when he doesn’t want to.”

  “Henry,” Frank took a calming breath, “it’s something you have to do. They can’t do it. You sat and watched me feed him. You saw me patting him on the back. What the hell did you think I was doing?”

  “Making him tough?” Henry shrugged.

  “Fuck.” Frank shook his head in ir
ritation. “So he hasn’t burped yet.”

  “Not that I know of.”

  With a grunt, Frank held out his hands. “Give him to me.”

  “All right.” Henry turned Nick around and, securing his head, extended him to Frank.

  The moment Frank took hold of the baby, a loud rumbling, along with something else, came from the small child who faced Henry,. Nearly the entire contents of the bottle Henry gave him projected from Nick’s mouth in the same form it entered and landed directly on Henry’s leg. “There.” Frank smiled at the baby. “Now you feel better huh? I bet your hungry now.” He reached down and picked up the bottle. “Henry?”

  “I’m gonna throw up.”

  “No you aren’t.” Frank waved his hand at him as he sat on the couch to feed Nick.

  “I am Frank. I know I am. It smells.”

  Frank leaned forward sniffing at the leg of Henry so near to him. “Like milk. It’s baby puke Henry. Baby puke doesn’t smell.”

  “Uh,” Henry grunted in further disgust at Frank’s lax attitude toward infant regurgitation. “I’ll be back.” Henry took off darting toward the stairs.

  “See,” Frank spoke softly to Nick, “I don’t know who throws up more, you or your dad.” He sat there for a while feeding the baby, letting Alexandra hold him, yelling at Billy and Josh, and wondering what the hell was taking Henry so long just to change his pants.

  Fifteen minutes, it took fifteen minutes for Henry to come back down and when he did, Frank knew what the holdup was. Wet head and all, Henry had showered and he wore a pair of shorts as he sat next to Frank on the couch.

  “Why?” Frank asked. “Why did you feel the need to clean up like that?”

  “It was disgusting, Frank.”

  “But it’s your kid.”

  “Our kid, and right now you handle the disgusting things, not me,” Henry stated with a shaking of his head. “He looks asleep.”

  “Infants do that you know.” Frank stood up carrying Nick to the cradle. “You have to learn Henry. I can’t keep doing it all. The kid is going to be confused enough.”

  “He’s not going to be confused, Frank. We’ll share him like everyone does with the kids.”

 

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