The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  “No, about that.” He pointed to what Frank read.

  “Robbie, fuck. Give someone else a chance. You read it at the booth. Besides, Danny said you didn’t even sign up for a copy. Too bad.”

  “But Frank . . .”

  “Nope. I’m ahead of you. How do you like that? I plan to read a book.” Frank snickered. “It’s a dirty one so that’s probably why, huh. I don’t think I read anything since I was in the third grade. What was that book?” Frank paused to think. “ ‘Are You My Mother?’ Yeah, that was it.”

  “You’re not saying anything, Frank. That worries me.” Robbie hesitatingly sat down. “Does it make you mad?”

  “Mad. Yeah. I have to fuckin wait until Dan reads it. I know he’s gonna tell me about all the good parts.”

  “No, Frank, I mean, you didn’t say anything about who it’s about.” Robbie grew nervous.

  “Who? This Bobby and Helen? Who the fuck are Bobby and Helen? I think Danny’s making them up. No one write shit like this. Listen to this . . .” Frank read, “Dear Bobby. I swear if it’s the last thing I do, I will never sleep with Pete again. I know he’s my husband, but I can’t do it.” Frank failed to see the pale look on Robbie’s face as he read. “I got through it with your advice. Well, it wasn’t your advice but your letters, LOL.” Frank looked up with a dumbfounded look. “What the fuck is ‘LOL’?”

  “Laugh out loud.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Anyway this Helen woman goes on to say how when she slept with her husband she imagined it was this Bobby person because he asked her to pretend she was sleeping with him the next time she was with her husband.”

  Wistfully, Robbie spoke softly with a grin. “Yeah and she wrote back with all the details of what she imagined.”

  Frank lifted the pages. “Where?”

  “Huh?”

  “Where?” He looked through the sheets he had. “I didn’t get that. Fuck. Danny didn’t give it to me.”

  “Oh, um . . . I got an extra sneak preview. So . . .” Robbie cleared his throat. “You haven’t any idea who Helen and Bobby are.”

  “Nah. I don’t think we’re supposed to. This is old world stuff. They’re probably dead.”

  “Probably.” Robbie let out a silent breath.

  “Probably. But I can’t . . .” A beep shut Frank up and he dropped the papers as he sprung forward in his chair. One beep. “Robbie. Did you see that?”

  “I heard it.”

  “Pull a history. Let’s see where it was.”

  “Maybe it’s a glitch.”

  “It might . . .”

  Another beep.

  “There.” Frank’s finger pointed to where a blink of light flashed on the screen and quickly disappeared.

  “It’s too short, Frank. History didn’t pick it up either.”

  “Whatever it is didn’t get through.”

  “Animal?”

  “I don’t know.”

  It happened four more times, another beep sound with a quick blink of light then another. Each one was a single beep with a quick flash of light then nothing.

  Frank looked to Robbie. “It’s north. You just flew over there. Did you see anything?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Last we knew the Savages were more west.”

  “It can’t be Savages unless they took out Tracking.”

  “Test.” Frank pulled the keyboard in front of him.

  Robbie read the screen. “Seventeen good. Eighteen good. Nineteen good. Twenty. All good in that area.”

  “Feel like flying with the spot light?”

  “Do you want me to take anything?”

  “Go three miles out. Yeah, take a Dean-three. You see anything, drop it.”

  “It’s only eight beeps. You wanna take a ride up there and search manually?” Robbie asked as he stood.

  Frank stared at the screen for a minute. “No. It’s too risky. Nothing got in or if it did, it didn’t get too far. Just run a check. I’ll heat up the perimeters fences in that area and send three extra guards up. We’ll run a check of the region in the morning. Also, those small predators might be back and we can’t see them coming in the dark.”

  “Small predators?” Robbie questioned.

  “Fuckin killer babies.”

  “Cool.” Robbie opened the door. “I’ll check back.”

  Frank nodded and reached for his radio to make the calls he had to make. His eyes never left the screen, a screen that sent eight warning signals and would remain silent the rest of the night.

  New Bowman, Montana

  It was so quiet that Hal heard Ellen coming down the hall of the New Bowman Clinic. He and Elliott stood from their seats in the waiting area and went into the hall.

  “El.” Hal walked up to her. “You look exhausted.”

  Ellen smiled. “Not as tired as you do.”

  “The mother and child?” Hal inquired.

  “Both are fine. The baby is premature but in no danger. We want to transport both first thing in the morning to Beginnings just as a precaution. I uh . . . told her . . .” Ellen cleared her throat. “. . . partner to gather up some things for her. Right now both women are sharing a tender moment,” Ellen said with awkwardness.

  Elliott lowered his head with a slight snicker. He raised his eyes to Hal. “I guess we’re used to that.”

  “I guess so.” Hal raised his eyebrows. “I’m going to go intrude anyhow and see how Monica is doing. Ellen?”

  “Go on.” Ellen moved out of his way.

  Hal stopped. “Elliott, are you joining me?”

  Elliott looked at Ellen then to Hal. “No. I think I want to talk to Doctor . . . I mean, Ellen.”

  “Very well.” Hal took another step. “Oh, El. Good job.”

  “Thanks.” Ellen nodded and placed her hands behind her back. “So . . . you’re here to keep me company?”

  “If you’d like,” Elliott said.

  “Yes. Feel like taking a walk? It’s not too cold. That is if it’s not too much on your back or legs.”

  “I need the exercise.” Elliott touched Ellen’s back with one hand and guided her. “Can I over step a boundary?” He walked to the front doors with her and opened one side.

  “Sure. This isn’t a personal issue?”

  “It may be.” Elliott slowed down in his step outside. “Are you . . . are you all right?”

  Ellen turned quickly to him. “Why do you ask?”

  “You are usually so upbeat. You talk so fast and now . . . Maybe you’re just tired.”

  “Maybe.” Ellen looked up. “Listen. Do you hear?”

  “A helicopter.”

  “Robbie” Ellen smiled. “Something must be up. You can hear it in the distance but so clear as if it’s close.”

  “That’s because it’s the only noise.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You changed the subject. It was delicate. I crossed a line I shouldn’t have.”

  “What?” Ellen smiled. “About my mood? No, no lines crossed. I think it’s nice that you noticed and no, I’m not . . .” Ellen’s head lowered. “Some things have . . . transpired to put it that way. Things that I didn’t expect nor did I want to hear about. They are supposedly not true, but still . . .” Ellen covered her eyes. “I can’t believe I said that.”

  “Said what?”

  “Supposedly. Of course they aren’t true.” She stopped walking and faced Elliott. “What is wrong with me?”

  Elliott stared at her for a few seconds. “Ellen, I can’t even begin to tell you what is wrong with you because I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about. What isn’t true?”

  “What was said.”

  “This is something you don’t want me to know about?”

  Ellen took a breath. “It’s something I don’t want anyone to know about. Only five people know . . . the semi-involved parties. Anyone other than, they’ll judge and I don’t want that.”

  “Why . . . why don’t we ch
ange the subject?”

  “You don’t want to talk to me about this?”

  “Ellen . . .”

  “It makes you uncomfortable, I understand.”

  “I can’t judge.”

  “Of course you can judge, Elliott. Really, you’d be the best one. When you think about it, aren’t you an outside party.”

  “Yes,” Elliott answered.

  “Then your opinion would be unbiased. You wouldn’t judge. Hal, Robbie, Frank . . . they’ll judge him and then they’ll start on me for my choices and I don’t want to hear about it.”

  “Of course not.”

  “No.” Ellen started to walk. “So what’s your opinion?”

  “On?”

  “What we’ve been talking about.”

  “Let me see if I got this straight. Something has happened or at least you heard about something that has happened. It’s not true. At least it’s not supposed to be true. You can’t go to Frank, Robbie, or the Captain because they’ll judge so talking to them is out.”

  “That’s right. God, I feel so much better.”

  “Glad I could help.” Elliott widened his eyes, still clueless.

  “So what do you think? You didn’t give me the Elliott opinion. Is it true or isn’t it?”

  “Ellen.”

  “Yes?”

  “You still have yet to give me any specifics.”

  “I didn’t, did I?” Ellen cringed. “May I?”

  “Give me the specifics? Yes. If you want and . . .” Elliott raised his right hand. “It is between you and me. I won’t mention a word.”

  “I can use an honest, outside opinion.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “No beating around the bush,” Ellen said. “No being gentle with me. I can . . .”

  “Ellen, tell me.”

  Ellen looked around to where they had wandered. “Let’s go to your house.”

  “If you want.” It wasn’t far from where they were. They turned the corner to the first street. Two houses down was Elliott’s home. “Here.” Ellen pointed to the gray two story frame house.

  “This is nice. It’s small.”

  “It works.” Elliott smiled and led her to the door. “I like it.” He opened the door for her. “Make yourself at home.”

  Ellen stepped in. “Warm.” She rubbed her arms and watched him close the door. “Can we sit?” She received a nod from Elliott and walked over to the couch.

  Elliott joined her. “Is this what’s been bothering you all day?”

  “No.” Ellen lifted up and reached into the front pocket of her jeans. “This is.” She handed Elliott the small folded piece of paper. “I don’t know what that is. but . . . I want you to open it up and read it. Don’t tell me what it says and then I’ll explain the problem.”

  “All right.”

  “Don’t let on what it says either.” Ellen turned her body to face Elliott. She brought one leg up while he unfolded the note and read.

  “Now what?” Elliott asked.

  “O.K. the problem. I was snooping. I searched through my husband’s things and I found that placed the pocket of a pair of pants in his bottom drawer, a pair of pants he hadn’t worn in a while. Now . . . the reason for the snooping.” Ellen watched for signs or hints on Elliott’s face. He held a poker expression. “There’s this woman in Beginnings. No wait, she’s a girl, not much older than twenty. For some time and some reason, she doesn’t like me. She likes my husband. She’s . . . she’s claiming that not only did she have an affair with my husband this past summer, but it is still going on, and to make matters worse, she now claims she’s pregnant by him.”

  Elliott couldn’t hide the swallow. “And you don’t know what to believe?”

  “I believe my husband. I want to believe my husband. I should, but . . . she knows things that she shouldn’t. Things that I swear only Dean and I know. He denies it adamantly. She swears it’s true. She swears it’s his baby. Elliott.” Ellen laid her hand on the back of the couch. Frazzled, she ran her hand through her hair. “There are hardly any women but so many men, yet every man I get, they . . . they dog me. Dean, he swore me off a while ago and with good reason. Frank, there was a time last year Frank was so mean to me it was almost a crime. I don’t want to believe that another man who says he loves me can hurt me like this. This would kill me.”

  Elliott stared at her for the longest time. “First, let me start by saying there is nothing wrong with you. People . . . people make mistakes. Whether there’s one hundred people in a community or one hundred thousand, errors happen. It’s human nature. We pick ourselves up, we hope to atone for our sins, and we move on. I’m sure Frank and Dean have apologized for any past mistakes.”

  “They have.”

  “And they’ve meant it, I am sure. We hurt those we love. Seldom do we ever make the same mistake twice. Nobody means to mess up. Don’t you agree?”

  “Yes.” Ellen nodded. “But if this is true, then this isn’t a mistake. This would constitute an ongoing thing. Then again, maybe she’s making more out of it. Maybe he slipped up this summer and was with her once. Maybe she is pregnant by him. Dean probably is afraid to tell me but why lie? Why keep lying? Then again, why sneak into his drawers, right? I mean, that’s wrong . . .”

  “Ellen,” Elliott stopped her.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you love your husband?”

  “Yes, yes I do.”

  Elliott refolded the note and handed it to her. “Put this back where you found it and forget you were snooping, as you put it.”

  There was a certain amount of relief in the breath Ellen let out. “I will.”

  “If you love your husband, you must work through this ordeal, trust him, and believe in him.” Elliott stood up from the couch. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “As a matter of fact, I would.” Ellen began to put the note in her pocket. “I know it’s late, but I enjoy it. Thank you, Elliott. I mean it.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m glad I could help. Just remember, Ellen.” He paused, “Dean’s you’re husband. Bev is only someone starting trouble. You have to take Dean’s . . .”

  “Stop.” Ellen stood up, note still in her hand. “I never said it was Bev.”

  “You . . . yes, yes, you did.”

  “No I didn’t. Elliott, how do you know it’s Bev?”

  “You said it right away.”

  “I distinctively danced around her name. Why did you . . .” Ellen’s eyes shifted down to the note in her hand then back to Elliott.

  “Ellen.” Elliott saw her start to unfold it. “You said you were going to put it back. Why would you . . .” Elliott bit his bottom lip when he saw the look on her face. “Ellen.”

  Ellen had lump in her throat. Her voice cracked as she read the letter. “She may get your name, but I am grateful I will always . . . have your . . . heart. Thanks . . . thanks for the reassurance last night. I love you . . .” Ellen folded the note back up. “Bev.”

  “Ellen, I’m sorry,” Elliott spoke softly.

  Ellen shook her head. “No, don’t be.” She took a deep breath and slipped the note in the pocket of her jeans. “I’m sure there’s an explanation, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Now how about that coffee?” Ellen moved to the couch. “It’s gonna be a long night for you.” As she sat down on the couch, she saw the look on Elliott’s face. “Oh, no. No surprise. You volunteered to be my friend. You started this talk about the problem thing. Guess what?” Ellen brought her legs up as she curled in her seat on the couch. “Were talking my new friend, even if we talk all night long.”

  Elliott gave a gentle smile. “I should make a whole pot then.” Nodding his head once to her, he turned and headed into the kitchen.

  The moment Elliott slipped from view, Ellen lost the strong appearance. She closed her eyes as her hand went back into her pocket and pulled out the note. In Elliott’s absence from the room, Ellen, sadly and with a heavy heart, read the note again
.

  EMOTIONAL WARS

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  New Bowman, Montana

  October 13

  How Joe did it always astonished Dean. They had a huge Beginnings’ celebration with food, music, games, an event . . . and left a huge mess. But it never failed that when Dean woke up the next morning, Beginnings was normal. It was as if the clean up fairies had come in during the night and touched upon the streets. Dean always heard the beginning sounds of clean up, but he usually fell fast asleep before they ended.

  A few things still lay about as Dean made his way to the Clinic after coming up from the cryo-lab where he fed Bub. There was a napkin here and there, a paper, decoration and the dunking booth was still standing though all the water had been emptied out. Bright and early, it was back to work as usual in Beginnings. Today was a catch up day more so than anything else.

  Henry was fixing the left door of the chapel, the house of worship that was slated to open its doors again when Andrea announced Rev. Bob’s replacement, an announcement she said she was on the verge of making. Dean waved to Henry and received a half assed wave in return. He didn’t make anything of it. Henry had been odds with him for a while.

  Dean arrived at the clinic. He wanted to find Andrea, hoping she would allow Johnny to assist him down in the lab with some skin grafting he needed to do on Bub. Those were tests that could use a second pair of hands and since Ellen wasn’t around, Dean needed someone.

  After leaving a note on Johnny’s work space to could meet him at the cryo-lab in an hour, Dean asked Melissa if she had seen Andrea. Melissa was tending to a little girl who decided she was sick and didn’t want to stay in school. She directed Dean to the left wing patient rooms. Andrea was doing early morning rounds. Stomach flu cases were still plentiful. Some of the men Frank brought in had been without proper nourishment or nutrients for so long, it was like Beginnings food was a dose of the plague to them.

  Turning the bend to the wing, Dean passed the window without a second thought and then he stopped about five feet from it, backed up, and looked again. A single bassinet was in the nursery. A lone baby under bilirubin lights lay there.