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

by Jacqueline Druga

  “You had your chance.”

  “And you’re being ridiculous.” Dean told her. “I have to say something to you. Are you going to listen to me?”

  “I’m sitting with Robbie.” Ellen glanced at Robbie.

  “Then I’ll say it in front of Robbie.”

  “Dean. I don’t think . . .”

  “El, I want you to listen to me. O.K.?”

  “Dean.” Ellen took a firm stand. “Now is not the time.”

  “Now is the time!”

  “Bullshit! We had time!”

  “So make some more now,” Dean shouted back.

  “I refuse to talk to you right now.”

  “Oh yeah?” Dean snapped. “I refuse to have you ignore me.”

  “Watch me.” Ellen turned away from him.

  “No, El. Watch me.” Crash! With a fury, Dean sailed his drink glass against the side of the bar. The crashing glass caused an immediate hush across the room. “Now you will listen to what I have to say.”

  Robbie held up both hands up. “Floor’s yours”

  “What is this?” Dean asked with emotions. “Huh! Some sort of game to you? What the hell, El? What the hell do I have to do to get you to talk to me? I’m not playing anymore. This shit has gone on long enough. And I am not about to stand around and let you marry Robbie out of some sort of honor to Frank. I won’t. I love you! I love you. I have loved you forever and let me tell you something, El. You either tell this man you won’t marry him or I swear to God I will do everything in my power to stop it. You hear me? If you think for one second I am going to chance losing you again, then you are thinking wrong!” Dean’s voice lowered. “I’m sorry, Robbie. I am. I like you. You’re a great guy. But El and I, we have a life. We have a family and we have a history. And damn it, the long road that we have taken is not going to be a dead end. I wished to God you would see that, Robbie. I do.” Dean moved closer to Ellen, his voice at a whisper. “I didn’t take you seriously when you said you were marrying him. I’m taking you seriously now and . . . I’m scared.”: He laid his hand on her face. “I don’t want to lose you. I want you to be my wife. I want to live the rest of my life with you. I always have. I said the time wasn’t right; the circumstances weren’t right. I was wrong. Any time to marry you is the right time. Marry me, El. Marry me.” His lips moved closer to hers. “Tell me what you need me to do and I’ll do it. If you want me to get on one knee and beg you I will. I’ll do anything it takes, just tell me you won’t marry Robbie and you’ll marry me.”

  So quiet Ellen was; so heavy her breathing too. Her eyes pulled from the lock Dean’s eyes had with hers. She shifted her glances to Robbie, then back to Dean but said nothing.

  How long had Dean waited in the ringing silent social hall for an answer? He waited and only received a stare. Then Dean realized he waited long enough. “Sorry.” He slid his hand from her face, stepped back, and turned around. Slowly he made his way across the hall that still had many people.

  Ellen and Robbie had locked their views on each other. They’re expressions spoke the words neither one of them did. Robbie kissed Ellen on the cheek, smiled at her, and squeezed her hand.

  “Dean.” Ellen stood from the bar stool.. “Wait.”

  Dean stopped near the door. He turned slowly around to see Ellen walking to him.

  Ellen took small steps, inching her way quietly to him through everyone that watched and waited with anticipation. “I’ll . . .” Ellen moved right to Dean. “I’ll marry you.”

  At that second, every ounce of tension dropped from Dean’s body and he exhaled loudly with a grin. His knees bent down in his relief and he grabbed hold of Ellen, lifted her some from her feet and embraced her. They were the entertainment for the evening. Dean’s victory belonged the people in the social hall. They clapped and cheered loudly. Dean felt Ellen’s hands graze across his hair and to his face as he set her down. He kissed her. “Thank you.” Dean delivered another kiss and he held her again. With Ellen tightly with in his arms, their faces pressed, Dean opened his eyes and raised them to Robbie mouthing the words ‘thank you’ while his eyes smiled in gratitude to him.

  ^^^^

  Bowman, North Dakota

  There was a little bit of static to the radio that evening as Hal listened alone in the police station. A small light lit the table where he had placed a sheet of paper . He stopped writing to listen to the transmissions, then he’d write again. He didn’t get far into the letter, only the date, the addressing to the Commander and Chief of Beginnings Montana. Just as Hal began to write the words, Dear Chief, he heard the familiar sound of the chief over the radio. Hal paused.

  “Well, what is tracking showing?” the chief asked.

  “Tracking is showing nothing.”

  “Well then we have to go with what tracking is showing.”

  “But I hear hooting.”

  “Are you absolutely sure someone isn’t messing with you?”

  “Positive.”

  “Maybe tracking is down. I’ll get a team up there. We’ll down the perimeter get the spot lights on. And let me get Danny out of bed to double check the system.” The chief instructed.

  “Wait.”

  “Wait?”

  “Aw . . . never mind.”

  “What.”

  “Listen.” There in the back ground was the faint sound of laughter. “Forget it, chief. Denny and Josh are pulling their teenage antics again.”

  “Christ. Tell that little son of a bitch to get his ass home right now before I chase him down and give him a reason to run away . . .”

  Run away . . .

  Dear Dad . . .

  Hal’s mind went back to a time he held a pen in his twelve year old hand. He looked to Robbie, eight, who stood with a blue book bag. Tears streamed down his face.

  “Robbie knock it off. Quit crying.”

  “I can’t. I don’t want to leave.”

  “We have to. We either leave or Dad kills us.”

  “But . . . but . . .”

  “But nothing. Remember when you broke Dad’s fishing rod? Huh? Was he happy? No. Did he yell? Yes. Well imagine how much he’s gonna yell when he finds out we put a baseball bat through the television. I don’t want to be around to hear it. Do you?”

  “No.” Robbie sniffled.

  “It’s better this way. Trust me. We’ll be fine. I’m close to being a teenager. Now let me write this before dad gets home.”

  Dear Dad, I’m sorry to say but we had to leave home. Please don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine. We’ll call when we’re old in ten years. I have twenty-eight dollars and forty three cents. That should hold us over for a while. I’ll take good care of Robbie. But we just can’t live here anymore. Frank said he was going to kill us if we told on him about him breaking the television. The pressure is too much for us to live with. Goodbye. Hal and Robbie.

  Hal carefully folded the note and placed it in an envelope. He set it on the key table by the door. “Let’s go.”

  Gripping his blue book bag, Robbie grabbed Hal’s hand and they walked from the house.

  Hal chuckled a silent laugh as he ran his hand down his face thinking back. Remembering about how after six hours of being gone, his father was so grateful to find him the television no longer was an issue. Of course, the next time Hal tried the running away bit, it really didn’t wash. Hal didn’t know why he remembered that incident as he wrote the letter. Perhaps it was the sense of familiarity that called to him from Beginnings. A sense of knowing something was there and he just couldn’t put his finger on it. He was filled with excitement and overwhelming feelings of wishful thinking as he began to the letter again, and it confused Hal, the feelings he had, because he just didn’t know why they were there.

  ^^^^

  Binghamton, Alabama

  Looking worn out, Lt. Merrick walked from the interrogation room to George who waited in the hall. “He’s not breaking.”

  “How much physical abuse are you delivering?”

&n
bsp; “Near death. He just keeps rambling.”

  “What is he rambling?”

  “The same thing over and over.”

  “Yes.” George held back snapping. “Yes, I know that. But what?”

  “Some sort of chant. He keeps repeating it as if that’s what he is supposed to say.”

  “Are you deciphering it? Maybe you’re missing something.”

  “No sir.” Lt. Merrick shook his head. “Would you like to hear?”

  “Yes.” George stepped through the door and into the interrogation room. He looked at the large black man tied to a chair. His face was swollen and bloodied. George moved closer to Link, listening to the muffled words the seeped through the beaten mouth.

  Link kept his head up, staring outward as if right through George. “I pledge allegiance to my country and for the alliance in which I stand. I will fight for my God, for my home, and for my land. And for my brothers who have lost their lives. I will defend with my honor and soul, all that I believe in. And I will fight for the freedom under which we all should live.” Link coughed blood. “My . . . my name is Charles Link. I am a private first class in the United Western Alliance Army. I serve with pride and I serve with honor under the command of Captain Hal Slagel. I pledge allegiance . . .”

  Pummeled. So struck by the name delivered, George nearly lost his balance. Link’s chanting repeated. “No.” George shook his head. “No.”

  “ . . . pride and I serve with honor under the command of Captain Hal Slagel”

  ‘Captain Hal Slagel . . . Captain Hal Slagel . . . Captain Hal Slagel . . .’

  George turned white as a sheet.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  September 11

  Beginnings. Montana

  The tender brush of lips against her own and the overwhelming smell of tooth paste woke Ellen from her slumber. Why she felt so tired, she didn’t know. Hoping it was a dream, she grumbled and rolled onto her side.

  Dean snickered. “El, come on. Get up.”

  “Oh God.” Ellen pulled the covers over her head. “It’s cold in here.”

  “You left the window open all night. Wanna get up? First day back to work.”

  Another grumble and Ellen pulled the covers down some from her head. She opened her eyes. The room was dark. “Dean? What time is it?”

  “Five.”

  “Wake me in an hour.”

  “El.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “Come on, let’s have breakfast together before we get distracted with the hecticness of the morning. Let’s be alone this morning.”

  “We were alone last night.”

  “For all of two minutes then Jenny brings back the kids and you disappear with Robbie. Please?”

  Ellen sat up. “O.K.” She ran her fingers through her morning hair. “Do I have time to take a shower?”

  “No. I have breakfast ready. And we have to talk.”

  Ellen hesitated in her stand from the bed. “About what?” She looked at him suspiciously.

  “The marriage.”

  “I knew it,” she snapped. “Fuck. You’re changing your mind.” Ellen was barely a morning person as it was and she easily got set off.

  “Huh? No.”

  “Oh. Well what do we have to talk about?”

  “How about when we’re doing it?” Dean raised his eyebrow.

  “Oh.” Ellen stumbled out of bed. “Um . . . damn it’s cold in here.” She rubbed her arms, speaking groggily. “Tomorrow?”

  “What? That soon? What about the marriage classes?”

  “We don’t need them.” Ellen grabbed her sweat pants. “We were married before.”

  “Yeah, but I wasn’t married to you before. Remember, my time was rippled.”

  “Yeah so was mine, remember, only you were dead.” Ellen seemed perturbed as she sat on the bed.. “Dean, can we not talk anymore until I had some coffee. We’ll pick a day.”

  “O.K., I’ll go get breakfast on the table.” Dean kissed her quickly and hurried from the bedroom.

  Ellen looked at the comforter, how cozy, warm looking it seemed. Grabbing the edge of it to warm herself, Ellen plopped sideways back down to the bed and fell asleep.

  ^^^^

  If Robbie would have to name the single most best thing about having Jess as a roommate, it had to be that there was always coffee made in the morning. Whether Jess had to go to work or he just came back from shift, coffee was made. Robbie often wondered what he would do about his fist kick of Java if Jess ever worked a noon till midnight shift so Robbie never scheduled him for that. Just because.

  “Morning Jess.” Robbie tossed on his shirt as he walked into the kitchen and immediately to the coffee pot.

  “Hey Robbie, morning.” Jess read from a sheet of paper. “Want some toast?”

  Robbie walked in the dining room and stole a piece of Jess’s toast. “Thanks.” Robbie sat down. “What uh, are you reading?”

  Jess snickered. “Check this out.” He slid it to Robbie.

  Robbie started to laugh as he read it out loud. “Beginnings’ Times, not a dinosaur reference.” What is this?”

  “Danny Hoi’s attempt at starting a newspaper again. It’s an introduction looking for people to write it. Denny and Josh are gonna be paper boys. Yeah, he stole the copy machine from the modular homes sale office and has it in his house.”

  “He’s bound and determined to make this the new old world.” Robbie sipped.

  “So . . . how are you?” Jess asked with concern.

  “I’m fine. How are you?”

  “Robbie I’m talking about how you’re doing, especially after last night in the social hall. With Ellen marrying Dean.”

  “Easy come. Easy go.”

  “Robbie, come on.” Jess tried to get him to talk. “It has to bother you.”

  “To be honest, at first it did. You know, I could have stopped El from saying yes, but . . . that would be wrong. For as much as we know, Dean is leaving. It’s just a matter of when. And her and I, we talked last night for a really, really long time. A long time and we situated some things.”

  “Good. I’m glad. Now can I have my newspaper back?”

  Robbie handed him the sheet, stopped and looked at it again. “I think I’m gonna talk to Danny about this position.”

  “Which one?” Jess leaned in, looked, and laughed. “Story teller? Robbie, he wants shorts stories. He wants to run a segment of one every day.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I’ve read your reports. Basically, you um . . . suck. You can’t write a simple sentence.”

  “Ha, ha, ha.” Robbie laughed. “So, what’s your point?” Robbie saw Jess’s expression. “Kidding. No, I have a bunch of short stories my brother Hal wrote. He used to send them to me when I was in the service. It was with all the stuff I kept.”

  “No shit. Your brother was a writer?”

  “He became obsessive about it. Wrote thrillers, but was always so dramatic.” Robbie shrugged. “I think it would be nice because they’re good.”

  “Could I read them some time?” Jess asked. “They say you get to know about the writer by reading their stuff. I think it would be interesting to learn about your brother.”

  “Then you shall. It’s a too bad you couldn’t know him personally. Hal was one of a kind.”

  “Nice guy?”

  Robbie laughed. “No, Hal was pretty much . . . a dick.”

  Shocked, Jess was speechless. “O.K.” He took back the piece of paper and began to read again.

  ^^^^

  Binghamton, Alabama

  George ordered the UWA soldier, Private Charles Link, to be moved from his comrades and placed separately. A prisoner of war, but one that would not be interrogated any further. He didn’t reveal anything he wasn’t supposed to, but he revealed more valuable of information than he thought.

  George wrote the name down a dozen times. Captain Hal Slagel. To George it figured. Beginnings was a pain in the ass ran by Joe Slagel. It would only prove Murphy’s Law for t
he UWA to be run by Hal Slagel. At this point, George wouldn’t be surprised to learn the Savages were run by Jimmy Slagel. It was the family from hell, George thought. Another Slagel to battle, only this one had to take top priority a far as bringing down. His well trained forces were making a dent in George’s, even if small, they were making a dent.

  But the thought of Hal Slagel didn’t make him cringe entirely. Actually it made George smile because he was certain, at this point, he knew something Beginnings did not and that was always a bonus.

  ^^^^

  Bowman, North Dakota

  That flutter that builds within your gut built within Hal’s as he stood on the edge of town watching his messenger ride out. In three to four hours the messenger would be arriving at Beginnings and delivering the message. Hopefully to Hal, barring any unforeseen circumstances, he would hear back before evening. The slight dust cloud rose up beneath the horse’s feet as the rider moved north. And Hal moved back to Bowman with high hopes of accomplishment.

  ^^^^

  Beginnings, Montana

  “Are you O.K.?” Joe asked as he sat at his desk and looked at Robbie across from him.

  “Oh yeah. I’m fine.” Robbie took a sip of his coffee, gasped at the enjoyment of the gulp, and set it down on Joe’s desk. “Let’s finish this. I want to get ready for the surveillance.”

  “O.K. What do you have?”

  “Some old. Same old.” Robbie read off a clipboard. “No unusual phone calls. No unusual visits to communications. He works his shift, goes home. Yesterday he went to the social hall for a drink after his shift in Mechanics and he sat in the chapel for his break. John Matoose is being a good boy.” Robbie laid the clipboard down on the table. “So tell me something. How are we justifying his being here still? Why haven’t we thrown him out?”