The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  “No.”

  “Tough.” Hal looked at Robbie, Dean, and Henry. “All those who believe Frank was an innocent, never did anything wrong, and I blamed him for everything, raise your hand.” No one did. “See, Frank.”

  “Copy Cat,” Frank sneered.

  “May I now tell my story?” Hal asked. “All right, two years post-plague for ...”

  “Was this before or after you became a traitor?” Frank questioned.

  “I was never a traitor,” Hal stated.

  “Did you ...” Frank held up an investigative finger. “Join the Society?”

  “Yes but ...”

  “Of your own free will?’

  “Yes but ...”

  “The Caceres Society?”

  “Frank, you know I did but ...”

  “Traitor.” Frank smirked. “All those who think Hal is a traitor, raise your hands.” Like an excited school boy, Frank lifted his arm high.

  Dean had enough. “Frank, can you be anymore immature?”

  “Yeah.” Frank nodded and smirked.

  Dean shook his head. “Finish, Hal.”

  “Thank you. And where was I?”

  Frank gave a thinking look. “I believe you were at the part when you became a traitor.”

  “Frank!” Hal blasted in a loud voice. “If you are going to be so insulting, rude, interrupting, and pig headed.” Hal grunted when Frank gave a sarcastic ‘whoa’. “Can you at least be original and stop calling me the traitor?”

  “But you are.”

  “Use a different word.”

  Dean saw it and he smirked. He always enjoyed seeing the clueless look on Frank’s face. “I think you may have shut him up. Take advantage of it.”

  “I will.” Peacefully, Hal leaned back on the floor, trying to get into his story mode. “It had been about six month since we ...”

  “There is none,” Frank spoke up.

  “What?” Hal asked.

  “There isn’t another word for traitor.”

  Robbie snickered. “Sure there is, Frank. What about Benedict Arnold.”

  “I thought of that.” Frank pointed. “But that’s two words. There is none.”

  Henry disagreed. “Frank, there is. There are many.”

  “No.” Frank shook his head. “We need one of those Hemorrhoid books.”

  Everyone, at the same time, swayed their heads to Frank with an open mouth, gasping ‘what?’

  “Hemorrhoid books” Frank chuckled. “The-sore-ass. Get it. Hemorrhoid. The-sore-ass.” He heard them moan. “Fuck you, people. It was funny.”

  “Ha, ha, ha.” Hal bobbed his head. “May I continue? Thanks. Six months after we separated and began our family searches, we returned to the meeting place and ...”

  “Betrayer,” Dean spoke up. “That’s another word for traitor.”

  “Is it?” Frank asked.

  “Sure.” Dean tossed his hands up. “Why not?”

  “What about ...” Robbie paused to think. “Defector?”

  Frank shrugged. “That’ll work.”

  “Renegade?” Henry asked. “That’s another.”

  “Oh!” Frank snapped his finger. “This is fun. We should keep score.” He jumped from the couch.

  “In the kitchen drawer, Frank.” Dean told him. “There’s some scrap paper.”

  Frank raced in there and returned. “Hal, are you playing?”

  “I’m telling the story.” Hal sounded whiney and annoyed.

  “That’s right.” Frank leaned over into the coffee table while he wrote. “You’re like the host. O.K., let’s say everyone has one. Go on Hal.”

  “Ludicrous.” Hal shook his head.

  “Hal.” Frank said. “I don’t think that means traitor. Dean, does it? You be the judge. You have the highest level if education.”

  “Aw Frank,” Henry whined. “That’s not fair. I have more common sense than him.”

  “Henry, what the fuck does that have to do with being smart enough to be the human hemorrhoid book judge?”

  “Nothing I suppose.”

  “Right, so sit your skinny ass back and shut the fuck up. We’re playing a game here,” Frank bitched. “If you’re gonna whine like a broad, you’re out. Dean?”

  “Huh?” Dean looked up.

  “Fuck.” Frank tossed his hand out. “Is ludicrous another word for traitor?”

  “No.”Dean shook his head.

  “Sorry Hal. No points.” Frank dropped the pencil.

  “Frank.” Hal grew more and more irritated. “I’m not playing the game.”

  “Then why are you guessing?” Frank asked.

  “I wasn’t guessing. I was insulting you and your idea.”

  “You’re just pissed because you can’t come up with another word that means traitor.”

  “I don’t want to,” Hal stated.

  “Then if you don’t want to.” Frank tilted his head. “Quit fuckin’ playing.”

  “I give up.” Hal threw his hands up.

  A snicker came from Robbie before he spoke. “Frank, I believe not only is our brother a traitor, but now a quitter as well.”

  “Or how about this?” Dean held up his hand. “Withdrawer.”

  “Works.” Frank nodded a little in agreement.

  Hal’s mouth dropped open and his head swayed to Dean. “And you call yourself an educated man. That isn’t even a word.”

  “True,” Dean conceded easily. “But, hey we’re working on traitor anyhow and I have one, a Judas.”

  “Aw.” Henry whined again. “I was going to say that.”

  “Henry!” Frank yelled. “What I tell you about whining. God, I fuckin’ bet you were awful to play games with when you were younger.”

  “Hello!” Hal shouted out. “May I tell my story please?”

  With a huff, Frank looked at him. “I wish the hell you would. We’re tired of waiting on it.”

  Hal paused. He remembered who he was dealing with. “Fine. I ...”

  “Oh!” Henry shouted. “Mark it down, Frank. Dissenter.”

  Dean’s eyebrows raised and he gave an impressed look to Henry. “Good one, but top this ... Iconoclast.”

  Robbie scratched his head. “I don’t even think I would know what that word meant if it wasn’t used in sentence. And here I thought I had a good one.”

  “What was it?” Henry asked. “You do need points.”

  “I feel kind of stupid now saying it after iconoclast. But I was going to say double-crosser.”

  Amongst the ‘Good answer’ comments as if Dean and Henry were on Family Feud, Frank saw the heated glare on Hal’s face. “Guys. Guys.” He held up his hands. “Can you be anymore rude? My brother has been trying to tell his side of the survival story. Hal, go on.”

  “May I tell it without you four yelling out synonyms for traitor?” He saw their humble nods. “Thank you. Now, it was in the second year post-plague for me. It was about six months after we all completed our family searches. Well those of us who ...”

  “Hal,” Frank said his name sharply. “And you wonder why we keep interrupting you. You keep saying the same sentence over and over again. Either move on with the story or let someone else talk.”

  Hal stood up in a fast movement. “I’m sick of this. Forget it. You, Frank, piss me off.”

  Frank’s face tensed up as he tried not to laugh.

  “Go on. Make that goofy Frank face.” Hal stormed to the trailer door. “But I’ll tell you what. I can see it. You and I, big brother, real soon are gonna end up going round and round and I don’t just mean verbally.”

  “Do you uh mean ... physically?” Frank snickered.

  “You think I’m joking. That’s right. You think you’re the almighty unstoppable, Frank.”

  “I am,” Frank said with certainty.

  “Well you laugh, Frank.” Hal’s hand flung about. “You go on and laugh, but you won’t be thinking it’s all that funny when I kick your ass.” Hal flung open the door. “This is no game.”

>   Frank jumped at the slam of the door. “Should I be frightened?”

  Robbie bobbed his head back and forth. “He could give you a run for your money, Frank.”

  Frank fluttered his lips. “Please. He’s a pansy with a ponytail.”

  Henry nudged Frank. “I think you can take him. Dean?”

  Dean’s hands lifted. “As much as I hate you, Frank., I don’t think there’s anyone you can’t take.”

  “Yeah.” Frank stood up and went to the door. “And what the fuck is he doing leaving the brother meeting like that?”

  “He was pissed,” Robbie said. “He said it wasn’t a game.”

  Frank opened the door to see Hal marching across the field. “I think we should make it a game.” Frank got a twinkle in his eye. “Brother football?”

  Robbie stood up. “Slagel Tag football?”

  “You bet.” Frank nodded. “And we should start right now.” Frank used his ‘bad actor’ style voice. “Hey, Robbie Look. Hal’s got the ball.”

  Robbie spoke like Frank. “I think we should go tag him, Frank.”

  “Let’s.” Frank grinned and took off out the door. Robbie flew right behind him.

  Slowly, at their own pace, and afraid of getting drug unwittingly into their sick game, Dean and Henry moved to the door.. They heard the charge-out call of Frank and Robbie, followed by the shriek of Hal. By the time they made it to the door’s opening, Hal couldn’t be seen under the two behemoth brothers.

  Dean released a slight snicker. “Look at them. They have something wrong with them.”

  “True,” Henry said. “But they also have something I am completely envious of.”

  “What’s that?” Dean asked. “Size?”

  “Hardly.” Henry looked out at the wrestling trio. Hal was the only one not laughing, “They have each other.”

  IN RETROSPECT ... THE SECOND YEAR

  Preparing for Company

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  March 10 - Beginnings, Montana

  Jonas Lyons was the quietest resident of Beginnings. He was seldom heard from and never complained as he worked his field job. A thin man, not quite six foot, African-American by race, but all of his life most people assumed he was Puerto Rican. A tiny mustache decorated the area above his thin top lip. He was very soft spoken and his voice was higher in tone. Good looking, he was voted best dressed man in the nomad world.

  He walked a little differently than most men in Beginnings. Everyone noticed it, but no one was ever able to put their finger on what it was until eleven year old Denny pointed out that Jonas rubbed his thighs together when he walked. As soon as Frank realized that the word ‘swish’ could be used to describe his friend’s walk, Frank knew there had to be something done about that. Not because he hated the fact that Jonas walked like that, Frank never minded. It was that he worried about Jonas with the time getting closer and closer to bringing in people. Knowing how ‘tough’ the people were that seemed to show up at the front gate right after garbage burning, Frank wanted no trouble to start with Jonas.

  ‘Feared’ is what Frank told Jonas he would be when he got through with him. Jonas highly doubted that, seeing that the toughest chore he did in farming was getting the plow for Frank to pull. He never denied bribing Frank to do his work, telling Frank if he did one laborer’s job, he would clean Frank’s house and do his laundry. Fair was fair and Frank liked that. Jonas did something to make his tee-shirts so white and never was there a wrinkle.

  And there wasn’t a wrinkle to be found on the uniform Jonas wore as he waited on Frank in a little bare area off the utility building. Since he was told to be out of those Khaki pants, Jonas put on the green pants Frank gave him along with a tee-shirt and combat boots. If nothing else, Jonas looked tough, clean, pressed, and tough.

  “Hey!” Frank yelled out as he made his way to the area. “Look at you.”

  Jonas blushed, tilted his head, and tucked his shirt in when he stood up so as to keep that smooth, tight appearance. “I’m ready, Frank.”

  Frank cased him for inspection. “Where are your blouses?”

  “Frank, you said nothing about wearing a blouse. You said to look tough.”

  “Huh?” Frank was confused then it hit hm. “No, not a shirt. You blouse you boots. Like this.” Frank lifted his leg and showed Jonas how his pants bunched up just beyond the top of his combat boot. “See”

  “Yes.”

  “I gave you blouses, little green bands with a latch on them.”

  “Oh yes.” Jonas lifted his arm. “These?”

  Frank blinked when he saw that Jonas had them on as bracelets. “Jonas, they weren’t jewelry. They make you pants look like this.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “Why?”

  “Because my pants will wrinkle if I bunch them up like that.”

  “Tough. Blouse your boots.”

  “What is the point?” Jonas bent down to one knee.

  “So your pant legs don’t get caught up.”

  “On what?” Jonas asked looking really dumbfounded on how to place on the bands.

  “Here.” Frank bent down to help. “I’m going to train you, Jonas. You aren’t gonna be in the fields all the time. I’m putting you on my Security team for when we get survivors.” Frank saw the horrified look on Jonas’ face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Frank.” Jonas swallowed. “I’ll get beat up.”

  “Not when I’m done with you.”

  “Frank, I got in one fight during my entire life and that was a slap match.”

  Frank snickered and stood up. “Well, that’s why I’m here, to teach you.”

  “Can you?” Jonas stood as well.

  “Fuck yeah. What the fuck do you think I did for a living? I trained people.”

  “Are you ... are you gonna yell at me?” Jonas asked.

  “Probably.”

  “Please don’t.”

  “Jonas ...”

  “You’ll hurt my feelings, Frank. You will.” Jonas rubbed his hands down his arms. “Shouldn’t we be wearing a jacket. It’s a tad chilly?”

  “No. I’ll warm you up.” Frank nodded.

  Jonas smiled. “Oh, Frank.”

  Frank grumbled. “All right. First, we want to establish how tough you want to be. So uh ...” Frank bobbed his head in thought. “Tell me an actor who you find extremely tough, someone that you wouldn’t want to mess with.”

  “Hmm.” Jonas crossed his arms and rubbed his chin. “An actor.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m thinking.”

  “Don’t take too long. This shouldn’t be all that hard.”

  “Will I try to be like him?”

  “You can.”

  “O.K.” Jonas thought some more. “Does he have to have alive?”

  “Jonas. Everyone is fuckin’ dead. Chances are any actor you pick is dead. So pick one.”

  “Um.”

  “Jonas.”

  “All right. All right.” Jonas smiled. “I have one.”

  “Good. Who?”

  “Cary Grant.”

  “Cary Grant?”

  “Yes.”

  “The actor Cary Grant?”

  “Yes.” Jonas said. “You said a tough actor. I picked one.”

  “Just so we’re on the same wave length here, the actor from the fifties?”

  “Yes.”

  “Jonas!”

  ‘What?” Jonas stepped back. “And please don’t yell.”

  “Cary Grant isn’t fuckin’ tough.”

  ‘Yes, he is.”

  “No. No, he isn’t.”

  “Oh I beg to differ, Frank. Did you see him in To Kill a Mockingbird? He got this glare in his ...”

  “Jonas just because the man knocked off a fuckin’ bird, doesn’t make him tough. He wears glasses and recites fuckin’ poetry not to mention he played in movies with Doris Day. Doris Day, Jonas. She’s the fuckin’ damsel in distress nobody wants to save. Besides, that Mockingbird movie was the Peck guy.”r />
  “Gregory Peck.” Jonas drew up a glowing look.

  “No. Not Peck. Don’t think about it.”

  “Why are you going off like this?”

  “You picked Cary Grant,” Frank argued.

  “There is nothing wrong with Cary Grant.”

  “Jonas, fuckin’ Dean is tougher than Cary Grant. Pick someone else.”

  “But ...”

  “Pick someone else!” Frank blasted.

  “You’re making me feel bad.”

  “Who cares? Pick someone else.”

  “All right.” Jonas thought about it some more. He snapped his finger. “Oh. I know. Brad Pitt.”

  “Brad Pitt? Pretty boy Brad Pitt? Oh, now I know you’re fuckin’ gay. Brad Pitt.”

  “He’s tough.”

  “To get to take a bath. Brad Pitt. You stink. I’ll pick your tough guy.”

  “Oh I don’t know, Frank and I wish you’d lose this attitude.” Jonas told him. “I’ll get all emotional and won’t want to train to be tough.”

  Frank grunted at him. “O.K., how about John Wayne?” He watched Jonas shake his head. “Clint Eastwood?”

  Jonas cringed and shook his head again.

  “Sylvester Stallone.”

  Jonas smiled widely.

  “You like him?”

  “Yes.”

  “You think he’s tough?”

  “Hot in an old guy way.”

  “Fuck. All right. It’s a start. Let’s model you after Sylvester Stallone.”

  “O.K. I think I’d like that.” Jonas got excited and stood straight up. “I’m ready.”

  “Good.” Frank nodded. “Frame of mind is so important. We can build you into a man who doesn’t sway when he walks. Who talks tough and acts tough.”

  “Do I have to spit and grab my testicles?”

  “Balls or Boys.” Frank corrected. “Never testicles. And yes, you do.”

  Jonas winced. “That is so foul.”

  “That’s being a man.”

  “All right.” There was some reluctance in Jonas’ voice. “Let’s start.”

  “For starters you need ...”

  “I never adjust in front of women.”

  “Good. Now ...”

  “Will I have to start now?” Jonas asked.

  “What? Adjusting in front of women?”