The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  “Now see . . .” Joe pointed at the card. “That makes this card worth even more. Yes.” He sighed out. “There’s something totally demented about a forty year old man making homemade birthday cards with crayons.”

  “No, correction, there’s something demented about a forty year old man seriously making homemade birthday cards with crayons.”

  Joe chuckled. “True.” He shifted his eyes to the bed. “Frank.”

  “Frank.” Robbie looked upon his brother and suddenly he tilted his head and peered closer.

  “What’s wrong?” Joe asked.

  “Look at Frank’s face. He almost looks . . . confused.”

  Joe glanced and nodded. “Yeah he does. Kind of makes you wonder where the hell he’s at right now.”

  ^^^^

  “Now see, I look at you. You’re here.” Frank explained. “But how did you get here.”

  “I was sent,” he replied.

  “OK. Are you dead, or did someone beam you up. That um, what was his name?” Frank closed his eye and snapped his finger. “Help me out.”

  “Scottie.”

  “That’s it. Thanks. Are you dead or did that Scottie beam you up?”

  He look a long breath. “It’s almost nine years post plague, Frank what do you think?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking. I’m opting for the beaming up answer through. You look good, wait. Yeah. So why are you here? God stopped by. Did you know he looks like John Wayne? Some doctor stopped by and now you.”

  “I’m here to teach you leadership.”

  “Because you’re Captain Kirk.”

  “Once again . . .” He held up his finger. “I am not Captain Kirk.”

  “Did you get promoted?”

  “No. I . . .”

  “You were a Captain a long time. Between you and me . . .” Frank leaned closer. “I would have been pissed.”

  “How about . . .”

  “Then again, my brother Hal’s right hand man Sgt. Fuckin Ryder has been a sergeant forever. My brother’s a captain. I guess if he wants to promote himself . . .”

  “Frank.”

  “I’ll promote you if you want, for what it’s worth. How about I call you General Kirk.”

  “How about this.” He remained calm. “Just call me ‘Bill’.”

  “Bill.” Frank nodded. “Got it. So you’re here to teach me leadership.”

  “Yes,” Bill answered.

  “I’m a leader. Never a follower. Wait, isn’t that a saying. Never a leader or a follower be.”

  Bill closed his eyes. “I believe it was neither a borrower nor a lender be.” He saw the look on Frank’s face. “What’s wrong?”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Yes, it does if you think about it.”

  “I am. It doesn’t. How can you not be a borrower or a lender?”

  “It means make your own money and support yourself.”

  “What if you need credit because you can’t . . .?”

  “Forget it, Frank,” Bill halted him.

  “Who thought of that saying?” Frank asked.

  “It is from William Shakespeare’s Hamlet.”

  “William Shakespeare. Hey, I know that guy. I taught a class of his.” Frank nodded. “Man, he’s fucked up in his writing isn’t he? How in the world did he ever get published? No one can understand him.”

  “William Shakes . . .”

  “I’m published, you know.”Frank sniffed in arrogance. “I wrote a kids’ book.”

  “Can we . . .” Bill interrupted. “Just proceed. My time is limited here.”

  “Why? Are you gonna die?” Frank laughed hard at his own humor, then quickly stopped and cleared his throat. “Yes. We can proceed. Teach me leadership.”

  “Why don’t we start with you asking questions? Any questions you have.”

  After nodding a few times and thinking, Frank snapped his fingers. “Got one. OK, I know laser weapons. Now . . . knowing lasers, I know that beam will go on for infinity, right? So what was the secret behind those light saber things that . . .”

  “Frank.” Bill held up his hand. “That was Star Wars.”

  “OK,” Frank said.

  “I was Star Trek.”

  “I thought you were Captain Kirk.”

  Screaming, Bill grabbed his head. “Frank! Star Wars. Star Trek. I was on Star Trek.”

  “OK.”

  “You’re not understanding. They are different.”

  “Episodes?”

  “No!” Bill yelled. “Things. Things. Things! Two totally different things!”

  “What was?”

  Bill grumbled. “Try another damn question.”

  “Man, you’re moody. All right. As a . . .” Frank tilted his head. “Leader. Did you know that guy with the pointy ears?”

  “Spock.”

  “Yeah, Spock. Did you know all along that he was actually the son of the evil guy in the big black helmet?”

  Calmly Bill peered at him. “Once again . . . Star Wars. Star Trek.”

  “OK.”

  “Different! They are different, you asshole!”

  “Bill!” Frank snapped back. “Don’t fuckin yell at me. All right. I’m still new to the concept of intercontinental space travel.”

  “It’s intergalactic! Ask another question!”

  “All right! Fuck!” Frank blasted then calmed down. “Explain why you have to be the one to teach me leadership?”

  “Because I showed a strength and I showed a strong leadership. I am to convey some of that to you.”

  “If you succeed . . .” Frank lifted a finger. “I won’t have to wear one of those lame leotard outfits like you, will I? Not that it didn’t look pretty good on you, but I don’t think it will work for me. Just an observation. What do you think?”

  Bill didn’t. In fact, he didn’t even respond. At that point, he stood up and left.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Like a Fourth of July sparkler, Hal’s flicked cigarette sailed ‘end over light’ across the porch railing of his father’s home. “Layers,” he told Elliott.

  “Layers,” Elliott said with some disbelief. “They have layers of teeth.”

  “Absolutely.” Hal nodded. “Why are you having such a hard time with this? They have fangs. They are carnivorous.”

  “They are infants.”

  Hal huffed out. “As odd as it sounds, yes. I suppose if raised in the correct environment they can be controlled, but these are wild so the animal portion of them and the survival mechanism kicks in.”

  Elliott ran his hand down his face. “Why did I not have this problem to contend with the last time I filled in?”

  “The last time, Frank wasn’t supposed to be out for this long. And . . . there are more.”

  Elliott nodded. “You’ve seen one.”

  “In action? Yes.” Hal shuddered. “I saw Cole torn to shreds with body bits and blood spewing forth into the air.”

  “You were there during this?” Elliott asked and received a nod. “You killed it then?”

  “Good God Elliott, what do you think I am? Heartless? It was an infant.” Hal reached for the door. “Frank killed him and now it’s your job.” Walking into the house, Hal almost knocked Robbie over. “Tell him, Robbie.”

  “Yeah,” Robbie said, then smiled. “Tell him what?”

  “About the killed babies.” Hal spoke.

  “Boys,” Andrea sung out the word as she entered the dining area with a casserole dish. “No killer baby talk. Please. We’re going to be eating. Did you boys wash your hands?”

  “I only have one.” Robbie held up his hand.

  Andrea snickered with a crinkle of her nose. “You’re so cute.” She reached out and pinched his cheek.

  Hal rolled his eyes. “I’m washed up, Andrea.”

  Andrea shook her head. “You were outside smoking.”

  “Yeah, Hal,” Robbie said snidely. “You were outside. Wash your hands.”

  Hal grumbled, “
And this is coming from a man who never saw a bath before the age of twelve. Excuse me.” Slipping from the conversation, Hal headed toward the hallway and passed his father as he did.

  Joe immediately went to the table and sat down. “Smells good. Robert, sit. Elliott, are you joining us?”

  “Of course he is, Joe.” Andrea, after pushing Katie in close to the table, took her seat at the same time as Robbie and Elliott. “Sgt. Ryder, explain why Denny can’t be with us today for dinner. I find it disturbing that he can’t eat with his mother.”

  “Well, Mrs. Slagel,” Elliott replied. “He’s in a sort of basic training. We like to keep those men initially separate for a couple weeks.”

  Joining them at the table, Hal interceded, “Speaking of that, Dad, I would like to take some time to discuss stealing some of Sgt. Doyle’s men and training them. They could make it into the UWA, maybe the Specialty Division of the army.”

  “Of course you would, Hal,” Joe said with sarcasm. “And we will, but not now. No discussing work shit.” He dished up some food. “We’re eating.”

  “We’re praying,” Andrea interjected.

  “Christ,” Joe grumbled.

  “Joe,” Andrea huffed out. “Robert, will you?”

  “Sure.” Robbie bowed his head. “Bless this food, Amen.”

  Singing out a sigh, Andrea reached over and patted Robbie’s back. “Amen. You have such a moving way with words.”

  “Christ,” Joe griped. “Can we eat?”

  “Andrea?” Robbie asked. “Did you get a chance to check on Jess today?”

  “Yes, I did. He’s healing well,” Andrea answered. “It’ll be a while though.”

  “Dad?” Hal looked at Joe. “Have you decided what was being done about him since the revelation of his Society connection?”

  Joe hesitated in his eating. “Didn’t I tell you there would be no work talk?”

  “Yes, but . . .”

  “Hal, no.” Joe was firm.

  “I’d like to know,” Hal insisted.

  “Fine.” Joe dropped his fork. “Nothing, Nothing will be done with Jess until he’s well enough to be ousted.”

  Hal’s eyes widened. “You’re ousting him?”

  “Did I say that?” Joe snapped.

  “Yes.” Hal replied.

  “Well, I meant nothing is being done until he’s well enough to be ousted if that’s the case.”

  “You cannot oust the man.”

  “Goddamn it, Hal. I’m not discussing this with you. But . . .” Joe pointed his fork at him. “There’s a trust factor involved here. Jess broke that. Ask your brother if he trusts Jess the same way he used to. Robert?”

  Robbie hem-hawed. “Well he did try to kiss me that . . .”

  “Robert. Answer,” Joe instructed.

  “Not like I used to. I still like him, though. He’s my friend,” Robbie answered.

  Andrea let out another signing, ‘ah’, “Speaking of friends, did you start that song, Robbie?”

  “Um.” Robbie shifted his eyes about. “No. But um, I’m thinking about it.”

  “What song?” Joe asked.

  “Oh.” Andrea perked up. “I learned a beautiful new word today that means wonderful friend and Robbie’s writing a song about it.”

  Joe bobbed his head side to side. “That’s nice. What’s the word?”

  “Futomara,” Andrea answered.

  Elliott coughed.

  “Joe,” she said sweetly. “You are a Futomara to me.”

  “Thanks.” Joe winked.

  It was a choking sound Elliott released when the food he inhaled in his shock lodged in his throat.

  With a hard ‘slam’, Hal whacked Elliott on the back. “Must I remind you to chew your food prior to swallowing?”

  “Excuse me.” Elliott stood up.

  Hal looked at Andrea very seriously. “That is a very nice word. Elliott and I know it well from being stationed in Hawaii. And . . . I know Elliott refers to me as a Futomara many times. Right, Elliott?”

  Elliott looked at the faces awaiting an answer then he smiled.

  Andrea folded her hands. “Elliott, are you embarrassed to admit that? Why? There’s nothing to be ashamed of. A man can admit when he has a Futomara in another man.”

  Elliott’s mouth dropped open. “Excuse me. I want to get some milk.” After making eye contact with Hal and wondering how he was keeping such a straight face, Elliott flew into the kitchen. Knowing he had to at least get some milk to make honest of his exit, he began to search out the cabinets. In mid search of the one by the sink, Elliott stopped and peered out the kitchen window when he saw Ellen and Dean outside of their home. He snickered in amusement at the muffled arguing voices and the violent tug of war they were having over what seemed to be a long, tangled strand of Christmas lights.

  ^^^^

  “Asshole!” Ellen screamed at Dean as she stormed into the house with an arm full of Christmas lights.

  Alexandra, Billy, and Joey, who were making ornaments, looked up at her scream and the slam of the door.

  The door opened and Dean flew in. “Very mature.”

  “Oh and making me fall wasn’t?” Ellen barked.

  “You said ‘let go’. I did.”

  “Asshole!” With a violent scream, Ellen threw the entire bundle at Dean. They smacked into him.

  “Hey! Was that necessary?”

  “Yes. In fact . . .” She bent down and snatched up the lights. “Let me do it again.”

  “Don’t.” Dean held up a finger. “Don’t you dare.”

  Billy let out a small, ‘hmpf’. “Personally, if my spouse spoke down to me like that, I would let him have it again. That’s my opinion.”

  “Billy!” Dean snapped. “Enough.”

  “Hey.” Ellen whacked him with the lights. “Don’t you yell at him.”

  “I quit. You hear that! I quit.” Dean yelled.

  ‘”You never started. You tangled my lights.”

  “I did no such thing,” Dean said loudly. “You tangled your lights.”

  “You tangled the lights because you didn’t want to put them up.”

  “You tangled them, but if the truth be known, no!. No I do not want to put them up. It’s stupid.”

  “It’s Christmas.”

  “It’s Beginnings.”

  “It is the birth of our Lord.”

  Dean laughed. “Give me a break. Don’t play that with me. Why, Ellen? Why must you be the only person in Beginnings who decorates their home as if we were still in the commercialized, ‘my lights are better than your lights’ propaganda of Christmas.”

  “Because.”

  Dean waited. “Because. Because what?”

  “Because I want to. This is my first Christmas in this house. I want to deck it out.”

  “It’s a task, Ellen.”

  “Frank never complained. Frank hangs my lights every year.”

  “Well, you’re out of luck this year. He’s in a coma.”

  Ellen gasped, “You are so rude. You know what? Fuck you. I’ll get someone else to do it. I’ll ask Robbie.”

  Silence.

  Ellen opened her mouth a few times in thought. “OK, maybe not Robbie. But I’ll get some one. So go sit your Grinch ass down and me and my kids will decorate our home for Christmas.”

  “What is up with decorating now?”

  Ellen ignored him and hummed a Christmas carol.

  “Ellen.”

  “I’m not listening.”

  “It’s early December. Why are we decorating now? They’ll be up forever.”

  “Just until New Years,” Ellen said.

  “See, that’s wrong. If you want to follow tradition you’re supposed to leave up the tree until the feast of the Epiphany.”

  Ellen laughed. “Listen to you trying to sound like you aren’t an atheist.”

  “I’m not an atheist.”

  “Yes, you are. You don’t believe in the birth of our Lord.”

  “I never said that
!” Dean yelled. “I said I don’t believe in decorating. Big difference, El. Big difference.”

  “Why are you even arguing this, Dean? You never do. I put up the decorations every year and every year I take them down.”

  “That’s right. And you have to wonder why the lights get tangled. You throw them in a box . . .”

  “Dean.” Ellen held up her hand. “Yell at me one more time and I’m going next door and telling my father.”

  Dean scoffed. “Go tell your father, El. Go on.”

  “I will.”

  “Go.”

  “Fine.” Ellen flung open the door and stormed outside.

  Billy looked up from the floor and shook his head at Dean. “You can be so immature.”

  Ellen didn’t make it far. She was a few steps from her porch and she stopped when she felt the dampness hit her nose. A snowflake. She held out her hand, palms up and caught another flurry. As if it were the most exciting thing in the world, Ellen started to giggle. She tilted her head way back allowing the increasingly falling snow to pelt her face. In that moment, she thought of Frank and how much he loved the snow. The snow was a surprise because Henry usually posted a bulletin when he knew it was coming. It was nice surprise and it went along with the decorations Ellen so much wanted to put up.

  She stood there looking around and imagining a white Christmas. Just as she started to wish for a really snowy winter, Ellen stopped. It hit her. In the midst of a ‘blanket of snow’ thought, she saw herself alone in that snow, outside of her home.

  The Christmas decorations coming down were a moot point. Tangling them wouldn’t be an argument, because Ellen wouldn’t be anywhere near her home when the New Year came.

  She forgot her argument with Dean, and lost the luster of basking in Joe yelling at him, Ellen turned and went back to her house.

  Suddenly the urge to decorate left her and before she could even go into her house, Ellen stopped on the porch and sat on the step. Her face went immediately to her hands.

  “You were happy when I came out . . .” Elliott walked closer. “I hope it wasn’t seeing me that dampened your mood.”

  “Elliott.” Ellen whispered out. “No. Reality dampened my mood.”

  “Would you like to talk about it?”

  “No, but thanks. Nothing really will help.”

  “I see.”