The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

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The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20 Page 17

by Jacqueline Druga


  “Shush your mouth, Francis Slagel.” Andrea pointed the broom and took a long breath in through her nostrils. The hall was silent. “Now.” Her head bobbed side to side. “I want to know who did it. Who amongst you has no scruples, morals, regards for chastity, or self gratification control.”

  “Hey.” Frank held up his hand. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Me either.” Robbie shrugged. “I don’t think.”

  “Somebody did.” Andrea snapped out. “And I want to know who. Which one on you perverts stole this child’s virginity.”

  Andrea’s eyes shifted harshly about the quiet room for answers. No one owned up to it. She knew she was threatening with that broom, but she also knew the guilt of the party would shine through and it did. While casing the faces of the men looking for signs, Andrea heard her sign. A faint whistling carried out and she looked up to see Dirk sneaking out of the Social Hall. She brought her breath loudly inward with a heave. When Dirk heard that, he took off running. Not only did Andrea charge right after him with the broom held high in her hand, so did every male in that Social Hall not wanting to miss the outcome.

  A Pause ...

  PRESENT DAY

  Beginnings, Montana

  October 2

  “A thin Hal.” Robbie said as he lay on the floor of the living trailer in the mobile lab. “Don’t you think, Frank?”

  “Nah.” Frank shook his head, sitting on the couch with his legs extended on the coffee table. “I always thought you and Jimmy looked more alike than him and Hal.”

  Henry had to ask. “So was he the nice Slagel brother? Not that you aren’t nice Hal, but was Jimmy the nice one? You three are a lot alike.”

  Hal scoffed at that. “I am nothing like Frank. The man is demented.”

  “Hey,” Frank snapped. “I am not.”

  Dean laughed,. “Not that I like to defend Frank, but, Hal, if your brother wasn’t demented we wouldn’t have been so protected at times.”

  “Now see.” Hal folded his hands in such a ‘Joe’ fashion. “I feel really badly for my baby brother when you talk like Frank is all Security. Robbie does quite a bit.”

  “Yes.” Dean nodded. “But in my time frame, Frank trained every single man that walked in the gates. He handpicked them for Security. He drilled them, taught them, and walked a perimeter sixteen hours a day when we first got here. In fact, for years he worked sixteen to twenty hours a day.”

  Robbie agreed. “Even in my time frame he did that. It wasn’t until we started growing that he really needed my help more and probably more now since he brought back an entire army.”

  “Yeah.” Frank nodded, pleased with himself. “Neville Points. Which, I will win the competition.”

  “Doubt it,” Robbie said. “I’m too far ahead of you. Anyhow ... I was too divided, Hal.”

  “What do you mean?” Hal asked.

  “I was the Utility guy. I worked Mechanics and Security. I did survivor runs and the entire Containment and survivor process was mine and El’s baby. Trust me when I tell you, Frank ran Security. There was a point in time that I couldn’t do nothing but get survivors and work in Containment.”

  “Bet I got mad,” Henry spoke up. “I could see me getting mad at you.”

  “You did. You’ve been a prick since I met you.”

  “Oh.” Henry gasped so hurt. “I can’t see myself being like that.”

  Hal bobbed his head. “You’re a nice guy, Henry, but I can see it.”

  “Me too,” Frank added.

  Henry stood up. “I can see that I’m going to be a verbal punching bag. I should leave.” He waited for someone to say something to the effect that he shouldn’t. No one did. Henry sat back down. “But I want to hear more about Jimmy.”

  Hal looked confused. “Frank? Robbie? Don’t you guys talk about him?”

  Robbie shook his head. “We do but it’s more private, a family thing. I think, to me, it’s worse now since you came back, Hal. I mean, why didn’t Jimmy survive.”

  “Maybe he did,” Henry stated. “You never know.”

  Hal shook his head. “No. I mean I wouldn’t have survived had it not been for that doctor.”

  “Is that true, Dean?” Robbie asked. “Or does Hal only think he wouldn’t have survived.”

  “It’s true,” Dean answered. “I ran blood work on Hal. His mutation is nowhere near as strong as yours and Frank’s. He had to be given something that allowed what defense he did have to the virus to work. Had Jimmy been given the same thing, then Jimmy too would have survived.”

  “And he didn’t.” Hal said solemnly. “When I went east to find my family, following the Slagel contingency, I went to Norfolk. I found these at an aid station. In fact ... I can’t believe I didn’t show you this.” Hal reached around his neck and, with jingle, took off a small chain and a set of dog tags. “I’ve never been without them since I found these.” He handed them to Robbie.

  Robbie’s fingers ran across the name. “I can’t believe you have this.” He showed Frank.

  “Oh wow.” Frank held the tags. “This is so eerie. Isn’t this eerie, Dean?”

  Dean blinked as he watched Frank hold the dog tags. “I’d say. A substitution of one Slagel brother for the other.”

  Hal was confused. “Why do you say that?”

  Henry explained. “In our un-rippled time frame, Robbie searched out Jimmy and Robbie had those dog tags.”

  Hal took the tags back from Frank and placed them on. “I guess no matter what, one of us was to have them in our possession. I have a lot of things in my possession that was from our lives as a family. I had more time to pack up a bag with that stuff from my home in Hawaii. I have pictures and everything. I also took what I could from Dad’s house when I went there.”

  “Me too,” Robbie stated. “You probably didn’t find much.”

  “I didn’t,” Hal said. “Frank, when you come down to my town, you have to see what I have. I even have an old report card of yours.” Hal snickered. “I couldn’t let any of you go.”

  “What I’d like to do,” Robbie said, “is once we get situated with moving your town and all, I’d like to get together, you, me, Frank, Dad, and Ellen, sit down, have dinner, go through all the stuff, then privately have our own memorial for Jimmy.” He saw the looks he got from Frank and Hal. “Don’t make fun of me.”

  “No.” Frank shook his head with an awestruck look to him. “I’d like that. I feel bad I didn’t think of it.”

  The solemn moment was broken by the hesitating snickers that eventually seeped out.

  “What?” Frank said. “I could have, given time.”

  “Frank, please,” Dean scoffed. “You are not sensitive.”

  “I am too,” Frank argued. “Aren’t I Robbie?”

  “Um ... yeah, sure Frank.” Robbie hid his laugh.

  “Frank,” Henry interjected. “Though I find you a totally endearing man ...” He paused to let the moans finish from everyone. “Sensitivity is not your forte.”

  Dean snickered at Frank’s shock. “Frank, don’t even tell us you believe you’re sensitive. You’ve gotten worse every single year.”

  “Dean,” Frank firmly said his name. “All of you. You’re killing me,” so dramatically Frank spoke. “Do I not bleed when I am cut ...”

  “Frank,” Dean whined.

  Frank continued. “Do your sharp words not cut me like a knife? Do I not ...”

  “Frank.” Dean stopped him.

  “What?”

  “Where did you hear that from?” Dean asked.

  “I uh ... made it up.”

  Dean laughed. “Oh you did not.”

  “I did too. I wrote it off the top of my head, just like that.” Frank snapped his fingers. “You’re just jealous that you aren’t that creative.”

  “You are not the creative Slagel.” Dean pointed at him. “Hal and Robbie are. Robbie plays music He writes songs. Hal, he writes stories. What do you do, Frank?”

  “Dean,” Frank sp
oke his name with arrogance. “Please. I have written something great that neither of my brothers could ever do.”

  A snorting snicker escaped Dean. “Like what?”

  “I, Dean.” Frank nodded. “Have written a brand new history.”

  IN RETROSPECT ... THE SECOND YEAR

  Boredom

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  November 27 - Beginnings, Montana

  Andrea looked so proud as she carried the huge golden brown bird on a platter. She set it down on a table off to the side of the three long tables linked together at the Social Hall. She slapped Joe’s hand as he reached to pick.

  “Now that’s one hell of a turkey.” Joe looked at it.

  “You can start carving that while Maggie and I run back and get the rest of the trimmings.”

  “I can do that.”

  “And no picking,” Andrea instructed as she backed up and walked away.

  The Social Hall was just starting to fill up for the mid-afternoon feast. Joe picked up the large carving knife, reminiscing and missing his old electric knife. Jonas joined him.

  “Jonas.” Joe stuck the fork in the bird. “This is one hell of a turkey. You did good.”

  “Frank calls me the mighty hunter.”

  “You are.”

  “It was just luck, Joe. My gun went off accidently while we were hunting.”

  “Excellent accident.” Just as Joe started to carve, he heard the squeaking of chairs. He looked to see Robbie and Frank moving furniture way off in the corner. He shook his head.

  On a cart, Robbie wheeled a television, plugging it into the wall. “This was like the coolest idea.”

  “It’s not Thanksgiving without football,” Frank said, “even if they are tapes from games past.”

  “Now we can sit back and be all lazy while someone else cooks.” Robbie popped in the tape.

  “Yeah.” Frank flopped down in a chair.

  “I’ll get some beers.” Robbie raced over to the bar area.

  They didn’t watch football. Johnny and Denny found their own entertainment, watching Dirk. He sat on the sofa brought into the lounge, eating appetizers, and watching the game.

  Johnny sat on the floor looking up. “Do you suppose he uses his tongue or gums to break up the crackers?”

  Denny watched Dirk eat. He really did, so he could find out the answer to that one. Dirk chewed with his mouth open some. Cracker crumbs came from the sides of his mouth along with saliva. “Both.”

  “That is really gross.”

  “Yeah. My sister eats better than that.”

  “He kisses Jenny with that mouth.”

  “They don’t kiss,” Denny argued.

  “Yeah, they do. Open mouthed too. I saw them.”

  “Ew.” Denny cringed loudly. “How can they do that?”

  “I don’t know. And his lips don’t even look like they work.” Johnny looked up when he felt the hand on his head. He smiled at George who walked by him. “George said it’s a phase Jenny is going through.”

  “Well I hope I never go throw that wanna kiss old people phase. I never liked kissing my grandmother.”

  “I think this is different.” Johnny rolled his eyes. “Jenny doesn’t kiss him like a grandfather.”

  “But how can she not? He’s old.”

  Johnny thought about it and, even in his young wisdom, he had no answers.

  Frank was just as dumbfounded over it as his son. He verbally and facially cringed when he watched Jenny hand Dirk a beer, kiss him, then walk away.

  “Now why es et that ya do that Frankie.” Dirk asked him.

  “Do what?”

  “Make that there noise and face when ever Jenny and me is ta-gather.”

  “Because you shouldn’t be together.” Frank finished his beer. “It’s sick.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re old.”

  “So.”

  “So, go after someone your own age.”

  “Frank.” Henry nudged him. “It’s none of our business.”

  “I don’t care,” Frank snapped. “We have to see it.”

  Dirk waved his hand at him. “Then don’t go looking.”

  “How can we not? You flaunt it.”

  “You’d flaunt it too.”

  “Please. No I wouldn’t.” Frank argued. “Besides, she’s a kid. I see her as a kid.”

  “Well I see as a Lil sweetie with dee-zi-er jus a burnin like the ol rubber on a peelin tire.”

  “That’s sick.”

  “Son.” Dirk chuckled. “I think that maybe you’s just a right jealous cause you ain’t gettin none.”

  Frank scoffed and he stood up.

  Henry quickly looked at Miguel and whispered. “Is Frank sleeping with Jenny too?”

  William nodded with a closed mouth, so impressed, looking at the tray of turkey slices Joe laid down. “Nice job.”

  “Always was a fanatic about a nicely sliced turkey,” Joe commented as he carved. “Hate a butcher job.”

  William chuckled. “Funny how we have the same theory. Anyhow, after the meal, I’d like to talk to you about that list.”

  “You’ve been working on it?”

  “Yes. Preliminaries. I should have enough for discussion for your little pow-wow.”

  “What about Dean’s list?” Joe asked.

  “Getting worse. I’m believing his pessimistic view is more personal than professional. I think he just doesn’t want to bring the outside world in here.” William motioned his head to Dean, Ellen, and the babies coming in the door.

  Joe looked over. “Maybe he has his little world and that’s just all he needs.”

  Ellen snickered as she took little Billy’s coat from him and his hair, with static, stuck straight up. “He looks so much like you, Dean.”

  Dean tried to pat it down. “He definitely has the hair.”

  “You seem a little better. Are you glad we waited?”

  “I would have been gladder to stay home and have our own Thanksgiving dinner,” Dean said, helping Ellen take off Alexandra’s coat.

  “Dean, these people are our family.”

  “In a sense, but I’m lucky enough to have my own family.” Dean leaned into Ellen and kissed her. “And this is our first Thanksgiving married. I would have liked to have this holiday alone. And not here ...” Dean stepped back. “Definitely not here.”

  “Why?”

  Before Dean could even tell Ellen why, Frank approached, walked up behind Ellen and placed his hand on her shoulder. He stepped into her, pressed his body to hers, and laid his lips to her cheek. “Happy Thanksgiving, El.” He raised his eyes to Dean, stared at him for a second, kissed Ellen’s cheek again, ran his hand over Alexandra’s head, and walked to the bar.

  Softly Dean grumbled. “Why does he have to do that?”

  “Dean, you let him get to you.”

  “I say nothing about you two being friends, but El, you have to make him stop that.”

  “Dean ...”

  “No, El. I’m your husband. He does it to be a dick.”

  “You’re getting worse with him.”

  “No. He’s getting worse with you. Yesterday when we all went out for the turkey, I had to hear about your first Thanksgiving with him. Everyone’s laughing at his story of how you took the bus to his Dad’s, got stranded at the Greyhound station in Breezewood, thought you could take any bus east, and ended up in Cleveland.”

  “Dean, it’s my past. I can’t erase it.”

  “Funny, that’s the exact same thing he said. In fact, you always say the exact same thing as him and he says the exact same thing as you.”

  “Oh we do not. Let’s just say hello to Joe before he gets pissed. He’s like Mr. Family during holidays.”

  “You’re right. Sorry. I’m just bitching.”

  “You’re allowed.” Ellen smiled and kissed Dean on the cheek. “I love you. Remember that.”

  “Thanks.” Just as Dean started to walk, Frank approached again.

  “El, you
should get over and say hello to my father before he gets pissed. He is Mr. Family during holidays.”

  Ellen looked at Dean with a hunching, ‘sorry’ look.

  “Here, let me take Alex.” Frank lifted the baby from her arms and held the smiling little girl up. “Hey you.” Frank spoke softly. “Wanna go see Pap? Yeah.” After tickling her face with his goatee and making her giggle, Frank kissed her and walked to Joe.

  Dean held it in, but his rolling eyes gave away his dismay. “Why does he have to hold my daughter?”

  “Dean, knock it off.”

  “Sorry.” Dean followed behind Ellen.

  “And for our brothers and sisters who are at your own feast, dear Jesus.” Andrea stood, head down and eyes closed with everyone seated around her. “May they look down upon us and our bountiful ...”

  “Andrea,” Joe interrupted. “Can we eat?”

  “Joseph. I am saying the prayer.”

  “You have been saying the prayer for ten minutes.”

  “And I will not stop until I’m done.” She took a deep breath. “Heavenly Father, bless this food and the crops in which produced it. Bless Jonas for bringing in such a delightful turkey in from his hunt. For the health and ...”

  “Andrea.” Joe’s hand slammed. “I enjoy a good dinner prayer myself but we aren’t in church for crying out loud.”

  “Can you be any more of a heathen?” Andrea shifted her eyes to him in anger.

  “Yeah.” Joe nodded. “Finish the goddamn prayer. The turkey is getting cold.”

  “Fine.” Andrea huffed. “Dear God you know my intentions. Amen.”

  A loud ‘Amen’ rang out around the table and as soon as that happened, it was like the starting gun. Frank, Robbie, John Matoose, and Miguel jumped from their seats, reached around everyone to load up their plates, and to stay in context with old world tradition, the four of them took their plates and ate their dinner around the television.

  <><><>

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