The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  “Please don’t tell me you’re changing your mind. Everyone’s been waiting, Frank. They are really up for a challenge.”

  “You’re a dead man, Danny, especially if Dean dunks me.” Frank saw Dean smiling and waiting his turn in line. Robbie was first and behind him was Henry. “They’re like wolves waiting for me.” Frank shuddered.

  “But you’re the man, Frank. Besides, they have to back up.”

  “Back up?”

  “Yeah, they’ll stand twenty-five feet from that little target.”

  Frank fluttered his lips. “I’m dry. Line them up.” Arrogantly, Frank moved toward the booth. He removed his revolver and handed it to Robbie then confidently climbed up. He enjoyed the roar of cheers he received, flexed, then sat down. He grinned as Danny pushed everyone back. He watched Robbie get ready. “Ha! Little brother. In baseball you can hit a ball but you sure can’t throw one.”

  Robbie just grinned back.

  Frank listened to Danny yell out ‘three tries then the next person gets a turn’. Smiling at the thought of how dry he was going to remain, Frank lost the smile when he saw Danny handing a gun to Robbie. “Whoa. Whoa. What the fuck is that? They can’t shoot me, Danny. Dunking booth? Get it.”

  “Oh no, Frank, they aren’t shooting you. They’re shooting the target. See.” Danny held up the gun then pulled what looked like three long darts from his back pocket. “Henry and I made this. It’s spring action. The darts are weighted. If they hit the target, you go under.”

  “Fuck.”

  Smiling, Danny moved with a bounce and handed the gun to Robbie.

  Robbie looked at Frank who didn’t seem pleased. “No offense, big brother.” Grinning, Robbie took an aiming stance.

  “Robbie.”

  Robbie fired . . . ping! It hit into the metal

  “Fuck.”

  Splash.

  Ping

  “Fuck”

  Splash.

  Joe shook his head and laughed as he lifted the cheese from his slice of pizza. “I don’t know how you do it, Jenny.” Joe enjoyed the taste.

  “Danny’s impressed as well. He’s so impressed, he hired me out,” Jenny said as she stood behind the counter at the pizza booth.

  “Hired you?” Joe asked. “How in God’s name can he . . .” Joe was quiet when two UWA soldiers approached the booth.

  “Sir.” The one nodded and saluted Joe.

  “Afternoon, sir.” The other saluted as well.

  “Boys.” Joe acknowledged, feeling a little awkward from the salute.

  “Ma’am.” One of the soldiers faced Jenny. “May we have some of your pizza?”

  “Absolutely.” Jenny turned around and a moment later returned with two slices. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you ma’am.” The soldier smiled, bowed his head, and stepped back.

  The other one did the same.

  Jenny sighed and leaned on the counter.

  Joe did a double take. “Why did you do that?”

  “Those UWA men are so nice, aren’t they?”

  “They are polite.”

  “Nothing like our Beginnings’ men.”

  “You can say that again.” Joe started to eat his pizza and saw Jenny’s mouth open to repeat herself. “Don’t. And tell me how Danny hired you. You mean asked you to volunteer.”

  “Hired. Fifteen Danny Dollars a week.”

  “Danny what?”

  Danny Hoi’s voice answered. “Dollars.” He laid a stack of what looked like monopoly money in front of Joe.

  “What in Christ’s name is this?” Joe picked it up and nearly choked when he saw the sketch of Danny on the front, “No.” He slid them back to Danny. “Absolutely not.”

  “Joe, listen to me.”

  “No.” Joe shook his head.

  “Joe.” Jenny tapped his hand. “You really should listen to his idea.”

  “Danny.” Joe was firm. “The last thing we need is for greed to hit. If people have to have Danny Dollars to have things, they’ll get greedy. We can’t have that in a ‘I scratch your back, you scratch mine barter society’.”

  “But this is bartering,” Danny explained. “It’s actually a means of control.”

  Joe shook his head not understanding. He just wanted to eat his pizza.

  “This isn’t a reward,” Danny said, “nor is it a means to buy. It is, but it isn’t. Danny Dollars are my means to control the entertainment I set up in Bowman, plus a real morale booster.”

  “I’m listening,” Joe told him.

  “All right, I have twenty-six lanes at the alley, two movie houses with limited seats, one pool hall, and a soon to open Danny Diner.”

  Joe chuckled. “Who’s running these places?”

  “I have Bowman men and a few from here. People want to, Joe. It’s a way to break the monotony of going to the Hall.”

  “I agree,” Joe said. “I have no problem with all these means of entertainment you set up. Hell, didn’t I actually pat you on the back for the Blockbuster Video.”

  “Danny Buster, Joe.”

  “I stand corrected.” Joe faced Danny. “So why the Danny Dollars if entertainment is free?”

  “To reserve space. It will take so many Danny dollars to do each thing. There are more people than seats at the show, seats at the diner, or bowling alleys. Everyone gets one Danny Dollar for every hour they work. Plus Joe, I see it more as a morale booster.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “People in general like to buy things. They earned them. Yeah, they work for free things here, but this is just a little bit more. If Dean takes Ellen to the Danny Diner, I’m sorry Joe, but it’s gonna mean more to Dean if he earned enough to not only take Ellen to the Diner but to a show than if we just said ‘go.’”

  Jenny interjected, “And from a woman’s stand point, Joe, it would mean a lot to us as well.”

  “My mother . . . .” Danny continued, “never worked. My father wouldn’t let her. She hated when it was time to give him a gift. Why? Because she had to use my father’s money for it. It didn’t mean the same thing. If a gift personally costs you something to purchase, it means a hell of a lot more when you give it to someone than if it coast you nothing to get. Understand?”

  Joe was silent for a second. “The only thing I don’t like is, say you charge four Danny dollars for the show.”

  “Six.”

  Joe whistled. “That’s a lot. What about the people who haven’t earned enough but want to go?”

  “They still can go. But the Danny Dollar thing is just a little way to make people feel like they’re back in the old world.”

  “How do you plan to print all the Danny Dollars? That’s a lot of people.”

  “Oh, these right now are symbolic. I’ll be using a debit card system.”

  “I just don’t know, Danny.” Joe shook his head.

  “How about this?” Danny held up his hand. “We do it on a trial basis. We tell people it’s on a trial basis. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. No biggie. What do you say?”

  Joe debated. “All right, listen. I want a detailed explanation sheet on my desk for me to review. If I approve your explanation of how Danny Dollars work, you will give a sheet to every single man and woman in New Bowman and Beginnings. Then, after they get that, we can try the Danny Dollars.”

  Danny’s ‘yes’ made Joe jolt but not as much as the kiss on the cheek he got from Danny. Joe cringed, grabbed his cold pizza, and walked away before he got roped into any more ‘Danny’ ideas.

  ^^^^

  Billy Hayes looked like a miniature Dean with his dark blonde hair in need of a cut, little baggy Levi’s, and his face pressed so tightly into his hands as he sat off alone..

  “Hey.” Ellen sat down on the curb next to him.

  “Hey.” Billy stared forward.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’ve been abandoned.”

  Ellen chuckled and looked across the way to Dean. “Daddy is just enjoying the ‘get ev
en with Uncle Frank’ moment.”

  “Daddy never enjoys Beginnings Day.”

  “No, he doesn’t. Not usually,” Ellen said. “But he enjoys dunking Uncle Frank. Don’t you want to go try?”

  Billy lifted his eyes with a ‘you got to be kidding’ look.

  “O.K. Maybe not.” Ellen clapped her hands together once. “What do you want to do?”

  “Go home.”

  “You can’t. What about playing with the other kids? They’re all . . .” Ellen got that look from Billy again. “Maybe not.”

  “They all hate me.”

  “True but . . . look at your father. He out grew that. It was only a couple years ago, but still, he outgrew it.”

  “I want to go home.”

  “Well, you can’t. Tough. It’s Beginnings’ Day. It’s the one day a year that only happens once a year.”

  Billy rolled his eyes.

  “Please don’t do that. You look like your father. Hey, I got an idea.”

  “What?” Bully asked.

  “What do you usually do at Beginnings’ Day?”

  “Sit with Dad and listen to him complain.”

  “Exactly. Go bitch at him.” Ellen pointed.

  “Huh?”

  “Yeah, march right over and bitch at him for not being miserable with you. It’s your day. It’s what you do. Go on.”

  A bright smile hit Billy’s face. “Can I?”

  “Sure, go on.”

  “Thanks.” Billy jumped up.

  “Wait.”

  “What?”

  “Kiss.”

  Darting in, Billy kissed Ellen and quickly raced away toward Dean.

  Pleased with her motherhood skills, Ellen stood up from the curb to resume her culinary watch at the food table, right in front of the tortilla chips and salsa.

  While reaching for a chip, Ellen lost her appetite.

  “That was really great how you made Billy smile,” Bev’s irritating voice spoke right behind her.

  ‘Ignore her,’ Ellen told herself.

  Bev spoke a little louder. “I just hope I can be as good with my son or daughter. Of course, I think it will be boy. Do you think Dean would want another boy?”

  Ellen spun around.

  “I’m sure he does,” Bev stated. “I hope this child looks just like him.” She spoke pleasantly, running her hand across her own stomach. “I was thinking Nick and this baby would grow . . .”

  “Bev.” Ellen silenced her. “Go away.”

  “We have so much in common, Ellen. We should bond. Besides . . .” She moved right next to Ellen. “This is the food line. I’m hungry. We pregnant people have to eat. I have to take care of myself. Dean wants another child so badly . . .”

  “Then I’ll leave.” Ellen started to walk away.

  “Since you can’t have anymore. . .”

  Ellen stopped cold.

  “Whoops, let that slip, didn’t I?” Bev covered her mouth.

  Ellen stormed back to her. “What in the world would make you say that?”

  “It’s true,” Bev spoke as she ate. “You aren’t a whole woman anymore. Dean let’s me in on all your little bedroom secrets.”

  “You don’t know anything.”

  “I know enough that he would get irritated when you would bring it up after he had to be with you. I remember one time, not too long ago, he said to me, ‘God, Bev, she won’t drop it. I’m lying in bed with her and she wants to talk about it.’” Bev giggled and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Actually, he tells you it was for the best. Nick did damage. But . . . he tells me there was nothing wrong with you. He took it out because he didn’t want to chance ever having a child with you again.”

  Ellen felt the heat form under her neck. She had to remember a pregnant woman stood before her.

  “Really, Ellen, how would I know these things if he didn’t tell me? Does anyone else know?”

  Ellen said nothing. She knew what happened in the operating room after Nick had been born. Frank was chasing Henry. Jason had Nick out of the room. ‘I didn’t close up completely El.’ Ellen heard Dean’s voice in her head as he spoke to her while they were alone. ‘I want to go back in. Now! Too much damage has been done. I’m afraid of postpartum complications if we don’t.’ Ellen looked at Bev.

  “God, Billy, drop it,” Dean snapped at his son. “I’m next in line.”

  “You hate these things,” Billy whined.

  “Yeah, I do. But I also hate Uncle Frank.” Dean smiled. “And I’m next.”

  “Dad.”

  “Billy.” Dean happily took the gun from the person before him.

  “I hope you miss,” Billy pouted.

  “Yeah, Dean.” Frank yelled, soaking wet from the booth. “I hope you . . .”

  Ping

  “Fuck”

  Splash.

  “Ha!” Dean loaded the next dart in. “This is way too easy. Billy, hurry and tell your mom to watch.”

  “She’s busy.”

  “She’ll want to watch.” Dean held the gun in aim.

  “Dean!” Frank yelled. “Do it again and I’m . . .”

  Ping.

  “Fuck.”

  Splash.

  Dean laughed. “Oh this is too great. Hurry, Billy, tell her.”

  “No, I hate who she talking to.”

  Dean quickly turned his head and a burning feeling hit him when he saw Bev with Ellen.

  “Dean,” Frank called him. “You’re a dead little man if you do it again.”

  Without taking his eyes off of Bev and Ellen, Dean handed the gun to Dan, the Security man, behind him.

  “See.” Frank laughed. “Sacred him.” Frank saw Dan aim. “Dan, you suck.”

  Ping.

  “Fuck.”

  Splash.

  ^^^^

  The closer he drew to the table, the more Dean knew all things were not well and fine. His heart pounded with every step because he could see the look on Ellen’s face. He swallowed in anger once before making it to them. “El.”

  Ellen looked away.

  “Oh hi, Dean,” Bev said, chipper. “We were just talking. Ya know we have to now. Anyway, I have to go. Nice talking to you Ellen.” Bev backed up and stopped. “Oh.” She giggled. “Dean, I am so sorry. I let it slip that you told me how Ellen can’t have any more children. Sorry. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Dean’s eyes stayed on Ellen and he never watched Bev leave. “El, I never told her that.”

  “Then how does she know Dean. Huh?” Ellen stepped to him. “Did you tell anyone?”

  “No.”

  “I certainly didn’t. I didn’t even tell Frank. Frank.” Ellen spoke soft yet emotional.

  “I didn’t tell her. It’s our secret.”

  “Then how . . . how does she know. Did you change the chart?”

  “No.” Dean shook his head. “El, listen. That subject is a source of conversation for us a lot. She may have overheard. Don’t let her get to you.”

  “How can I not?” Ellen covered her eyes and slid her hand across the bridge of her nose. “She knows a secret that is ours. Ours Dean. She’s claiming you told her. What am I supposed to think?”

  “That she overheard us.”

  “Just like that?” Ellen asked.

  “Just like that. El, I swear to you I didn’t tell her.” Dean held up his hand. “I wouldn’t do that.” Dean watched Ellen stare up and let out a heavy breath. “El?”

  “I really . . . I really don’t want to talk about this now.”

  “But . . .”

  “Daddy.” Alexandra tugged on Dean’s jean jacket. “Can we . . .”

  “Not now.” He looked at Alexandra. “El . . .”

  “Not now for us either, Dean,” Ellen told him. “Later. Now is not the time or place, all right?”

  Dean looked down at his daughter who stared at him with her big brown eyes. He grabbed her hand as he glanced back to Ellen. “Tell me you believe me.”

  “I . . . I believe you.”
/>   “Swear.”

  “Dean.”

  “Swear you believe me,” Dean requested. “Come on, El. Swear.”

  “I swear.”

  Still holding his daughter’s hand, Dean kissed Ellen softly. “I love you.”

  “Take Alex to do whatever.”

  “El, I love you. You.”

  Ellen merely mouthed the words ‘I love you’ and stared a little beyond Dean when he kissed her again.

  “I’ll be back. Let’s go, Alex.” Giving a grateful smile to Ellen, Dean lifted up his daughter, balanced her on his hip, and walked away.

  Ellen just wanted to go home. She just wanted to find Billy, tell him she changed her mind, take him home, and eat there. Beginnings’ Day, which Ellen usually loved, was not turning out to be the day she wanted. She was starting to think she was going to call them ‘end’ days because for the second year in a row, she had a bad experience.

  It had to be the food line. Perhaps it should be time to leave it, find her family’s table, sit there, and wait. It wouldn’t be long before everyone would want to settle down and eat. The longest table there was deemed the Slagel table. Ellen visually searched it out. Andrea sat there sipping a cup of coffee with Joe holding her hand. Ellen could only imagine what they talked about. Andrea kept her spirits up, but she had to be wishing deep inside, like Ellen, that the events that had transpired recently in her life would just come to an and. Ellen had six more months to her agony. Andrea had a trial to wade through and for that she had to wait until they found a suitable judge.

  Joe knew. Andrea knew. Maybe the two ‘parents’ in her life were who Ellen needed to speak to. She felt as if she were going nuts. She felt wrong for even having the slightest bit of doubt in a husband she loved but a big part of her felt that doubt was justified. Tired of standing anyway, Ellen stepped away from the food line.

  “Tell me it wasn’t me,” Elliott’s voice spoke.

  Ellen stopped and turned around. “Elliott?”

  “It’s not me, right?” He took a step with a slight limp and extended her a small cup. “I was searching you out. I approached you and . . .”

  “I walked away. I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”

  “O.K. Well, a bruised ego is better than being avoided.” He extended again the small cup. “Here.”