The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  “They’ll do well,” Ellen told him. “But you do know, you’ll get out of here Wednesday night. I’m expecting you to argue about going back to work.”

  “I guess I will. I know Dean said the treatments won’t inhibit me from working but I’m not going back full force until after Christmas.”

  “You’re taking time off?”

  “Yeah.” Joe nodded slowly. “I know there’s this town meeting Wednesday night to vote on whether to suspend your sentence or not and if they vote to . . . to uphold it. Well, I . . . I want to spend some time with you. We’ll hang out.” He winked.

  Ellen chuckled sadly. “You don’t think they’ll suspend it do you?”

  “I hope they do,” Joe spoke seriously. “But would you? You can’t get mad if they don’t suspend it. It isn’t a strike against you. It’s a message to the next person who may commit a similar crime.”

  “I understand that and I am not expecting it. The only thing now that is making it hard for me to go is you. I want to be here for the treatments. And speaking of you . . .” She held out her hand. “I’ll walk you.”

  “Can you . . .” Joe grabbed her hand. “Can you just sit for a second with me? There’s something I need to tell you.”

  “Sure.” Ellen pulled up a chair and moved it close. “What is it?”

  Gripping her hand, Joe brought it to his mouth and kissed it. “My boys. They’ll handle this eventually. I know it.”

  “I do too.”

  “But initially, they’re emotional. I’m expecting Hal to do the best because he isn’t afraid to let it out. They’ll do good until . . . until things get bad.”

  “Joe,” Ellen whispered.

  “No, Ellen. It’s a strong possibility. I want to get this out and in the open now. I want this said now, at the start of it all so there is no question. Things may get bad. I may be in a position where I’m not the Joe everyone knows. Do you know where I’m going with this?”

  Ellen nodded.

  “Now I’m gonna fight this. I’m gonna do what you and Dean want even if you eventually have to take the lung. Hell, John Wayne lived with one lung and who is he compared to me, right?”

  Closing her eyes, Ellen tried to smile.

  “But there may come a time when choices are to be made. Choices on whether to fight for my life. Choices that I . . . I may not be able to make for myself.” Joe’s voice was soft. “I know my boys and Andrea. I know Dean. They are gonna want to kick in every viable option to keep me breathing. But . . . I know you and me.” Joe paused for a moment. “Ellen. Ellen look at me.”

  Ellen lifted her eyes.

  “I love to be strong. I don’t want to live out any of my life in a bed unable to speak, walk, talk, move, or breathe without the use of a machine. If . . . if I am a position where I won’t be the same, that I am not Joe, I want you to tell them life support or any kind of mechanical means to keep me alive is not what I want. I only want to be put on a machine that I can eventually come off of and lead a normal life. I know this is a tough one to put on your shoulders, but yours are the only shoulders I trust to put it on. Don’t let them prolong a life I would never want to lead. I’ve raised my family, provided, and protected them. When the time comes, allow me to go with dignity.” Joe clutched tighter to her hand, pulled her nearer, and spoke with passion. “Promise I’ll have my dignity.”

  Ellen placed her hand over Joe’s and leaned her forehead to his. “With everything I am, I promise you will have that. If I have to assure it myself, I will. I swear to you, anything less than dignity for you is not and will never be an option.”

  ^^^^

  “The operation went smoothly and I believe a success.” Dean’s words rang through Frank’s mind, the words he spoke right after emerging from the operating room. “His recovery should go well. He’s strong. We’re on our way, Frank. We’re on our way.”

  The words told, though optimistic and good to hear, did not overshadow the fact that his father still had a hard battle ahead of him. In Frank’s mind, it was a battle his father didn’t deserve to have to fight. All he did his entire life was work and live for his family. It was unfair and not right.

  A simple ‘bleep’ of the board and Frank turned his head to the electronic map of the United Sates that hung on the wall of the Communications Room. The bleep signified that the satellite ran a sweep. All was quiet.

  Frank looked from the map then back to his hands. He held the reminder flask Dean gave him. It was a pint size flask, filled with whiskey, and covered with pictures of everyone Frank loved. He stared at the picture of him, his brothers, and Joe fishing somewhere, Frank wasn’t even out of high school. He recalled some old Asian man took the picture for them and how they laughed about that the whole way home.

  Frank had a lot of memories in his hand, tiny pictures cut and pasted on that flask so whenever he wanted a drink he just had to see the lives he effected by doing so. They blared at him, the faces, the smiles, Ellen, his kids.

  His kids.

  Johnny.

  Up on the right shoulder of the flask, just before the bend, was a picture of Johnny in the fifth grade. A couple years pre-plague. Johnny wore such a little boy striped shirt. His ‘growing in’ crew cut was plastered down by some sort of substance. Johnny smiled widely, his adult teeth still in that ‘too big for his face’ stage, but the smile was bright and so innocent. What happened?

  To ask himself ‘where he went wrong with Johnny’ was not even an option. Frank knew the answer to that. Frank went wrong Johnny’s entire life. Always stationed elsewhere, barely home, and when he was, he was never fully there. Then the plague hit and Frank, instead of consuming himself with Johnny, consumed himself in starting the world over. He all but handed Johnny over to George.

  He hadn’t thought of Johnny and what Johnny did to Beginnings, him, and Ellen. He buried it in his mind until he was ready to handle it, but when his father’s illness grew forefront, so did everything else. When it rained it poured and Frank’s mind was flooded with all that had gone wrong in his life. Johnny rammed to the front of the line and from the second he entered Frank’s thoughts, he didn’t leave.

  The true meaning of heartbreak stared at Frank in the form of a fifth grade picture and a smile of purity long since lost.

  With a slight lift of his hand Frank flipped a switch, turned his head, and watched the communications board go black. Gripping that flask, he embarked on the task he has gone down to the Communications Room to complete. He picked up the phone and dialed.

  A Ring. Two.

  “Hadley,” George answered the phone.

  Silence.

  “Hello?” George asked.

  Frank released a heavy breath.

  “Look,” George spoke, perturbed. “This number is the number I gave Beginnings. No one else calls this line so if this is Robbie Slagel placing crank calls again, I’m . . .”

  “No,” Frank spoke raspy. “It’s . . .”

  “Frank,” George said in surprise.

  Another outward breath rang over the line from Frank.

  “Why are you calling?” George asked.

  “I think you know why.”

  “You waited long enough.”

  “George,” Frank graveled. “If I could have called sooner, I would have. I couldn’t. Tell me.”

  George didn’t speak. More than anything, George wanted to tell Frank, ‘I’ll give you what you want, but you have to tell me how my child is’, but George couldn’t. To him, if Bev’s identity wasn’t known, he couldn’t be the one to divulge that information.

  “George,” Frank spoke with emotions. “You know what I want. I need to know. Tell me.”

  “He’s alive. He’s recovering slowly from the gunshot wounds, but we expect Johnny to be back full force.”

  Frank’s eyes closed and he mumbled a ‘thank you’ as he slid the phone from his ear and hung up. He looked at the phone for a moment, flipped the communications board back on and turned his head to his righ
t.

  Scott, one of his men, just stared.

  “You won’t say anything about this, right?” Frank asked.

  “No,” Scott replied. “I understand why you had to do that. I won’t say a word.”

  Speaking slowly and depressed, Frank held up the flask. “And you won’t say anything about this either, right?”

  “No, not a word.”

  Frank nodded and tipped the flask over a glass. A small amount emerged and then the last few droplets of whiskey dripped into the glass. He brought the glass to his mouth, sniffed hard in his emotions, then downed it, He released a gasp as he lowered the glass. Grabbing the flask, Frank stood up, trying to hide the slight uncontrolled sway to his body as he moved. He laid his hand on Scott’s shoulder in his passing as a form of ‘thank you’ and perhaps a little help to his balance. After placing the empty flask in his back pocket, Frank slowly and silently left the Communications Room.

  PREPARATIONS

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  December 18th

  Something told Henry he should have worn better shoes, perhaps his work boots instead of tennis shoes. That way he wouldn’t have slid across the barely glazed sidewalk so many times in his walk with Hector.

  “Thanks for going morning bowling with me,” Henry told Hector as they reached the portion of streets with the shops. “I needed to take my mind off of things.”

  “I wanted to come to town anyhow before I hit the fields. Gonna be a long day. It’s Monday, so it’s reports day. Joe usually is like clockwork coming to pick up the stats and stuff.”

  “I’m sure Danny or Hal will be there as well.”

  “Maybe,” Hector said and lifted up the long thin, paper-wrapped object, “Coming to town also gives me an excuse for this. Plus I wanted to get this.” He held up a card.

  “I can’t believe all the card shop had left was birthday cards.”

  “I can believe it,” Hector stated. “I mean, everyone is getting something for Joe. I’ll just scratch out ‘Happy Birthday’. The cards are nice.” Hector examined it. “Everyone of them is hand painted. He certainly is gonna have his work cut out for him to restock.” Hector stopped walking when Henry did and snickered at the offended gasp Henry let out. “What?” he asked. “What did I say?”

  “Not you,” Henry gasped again. “I cannot believe some people. I don’t mind Ben from Fabrics half the time, but this is a shame. He’s capitalizing on Joe.”

  Hector peered to the just hung sign on the Unique Boutique window. “That’s not capitalizing, Henry. I think it’s nice.”

  “Please,” Henry scoffed. “Get well stones?” He read the sign with sarcasm, “Why buy a card when you can give Joe a get well stone for only two Danny Dollars.”

  “Don’t forget.” Hector pointed to the sign. “You get a free purple ‘support Joe’ ribbon to wear.” He winked. “I’m heading to the dress shop.”

  “Good luck. I have to check with Hal’s guy, Owens, get some things, and I’ll meet you there.”

  “Sounds . . .” Hector spun in his turn. “Oh, Henry. Before I forget, since Misha doesn’t have any family, I was thinking about asking her to spend Christmas with us this year.”

  “I spend Christmas with the Slagels every year.”

  “You think this year you’re gonna be invited?”

  “Um, no, probably not. That’s a good idea. Ask her.”

  Hector nodded and started to walk. He paused to watch Henry walk away and get a moment of enjoyment out of watching Henry’s slipping and sliding. Putting the smile on his face he thought would help, he walked into the dress shop.

  Misha turned from the counter when the bell rang. “Hector, what a surprise.”

  “I was in town.” Hector walked to the counter. “I wanted to get Mr. Slagel a get well card.”

  “Ah, yes. I have heard of his illness. How is the Captain doing about it?”

  “The Captain is filling in for his father so his mind is busy.”

  “Did you get your card?” Misha asked. “If not, Mr. From Fabrics has some lovely get well stones.”

  It took everything Hector had not to laugh, but since Misha was taking the stones seriously, like most people would, he just nodded. “I saw those, but I got a card. Also . . .” He laid the long paper wrapped object on the counter. “I got this for you.”

  Curiously, Misha looked then began to open it. “For me?” She smiled with an ‘oh’ when she exposed a rose. “Hector? Where ever did you get this?”

  “I run the Agriculture Division. We have a few bushes in the greenhouse that belong to Dr. Winter-Sanchez-Slagel. The third one just came into bloom and she said I could bring you one.”

  “That is very sweet.” Misha sniffed the rose. “I will thank her.”

  “I’ll pass it along. Well . . . I should be going. You have a good day.” Nervously, Hector started to walk away, but he gained his confidence and turned around. “Misha, I was wondering if maybe sometime this week, you and I could have an official date. A movie. Dinner. Or even Hoi-Hoi on the Range.”

  “That would be nice. You pick a day.”

  “Thursday? I’m off the next day.”

  “Thursday evening it is.” Misha smiled as she held her rose.

  “One other thing. Out of curiosity, what uh, are you doing for Christmas?”

  “I’ve been asked by a young UWA soldier named Daniel that if I had no plans, if I would like to spend Christmas with him and his two roommates.”

  “Oh, I see.” Hector nodded.

  “Were you going to ask me to spend Christmas with you?” Misha asked.

  “I was. I was going to see if you wanted to spend the day with me, Henry, and Nick. But . . .”

  “Then I accept. You have now given me plans. I will inform Daniel I am busy.”

  “Wow.” Hector grinned. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Great.” Feeling a hundred percent upbeat, Hector reached for the door. Before leaving, he turned back around. “Misha, thank you. It means a lot that you would want to spend time with me.”

  “Hector,” she said his name with a smile. “Why wouldn’t I? You are very sweet. But more so than that, what I like of you most is your honesty. You are very sincere and honest and there is something very old fashion about your morals that I am attracted to.”

  Bubbling, with a blushing, ‘thanks’, because he always believed himself to be honest, Hector then only mumbled an, ‘um’ when the opening door not only brought in Henry, but brought in the reality that everything Misha said he was, ‘honest, sincere and with morals,’ Hector pretty much wasn’t.

  ^^^^

  The ‘Christ, Danny’ that came from the other side of Joe’s office door made Frank hesitate before entering. He knew where his father was but it was eerie. It wasn’t until that moment that Frank realized not only did Hal look like his father, but sounded like him as well.

  In Frank’s mind, it was too bad Hal couldn’t act like his father, otherwise Hal wouldn’t be all that bad. With a hard ‘bang’, he knocked.

  Hal rolled his eyes and leaned back in Joe’s chair. “Come in, Frank.”

  Slowly the door opened and Frank peeked in. “How did you know it was me?”

  After looking at Danny, Hal tossed his hands up. “I’m telepathic.”

  “You too?” Frank asked.

  “What?”

  “Never mind. You ruined my entrance by guessing.” Frank stepped to the door again. “Just say ‘come in’”

  Confused, Hal was getting ready to question when the door closed. A repeat bang was at the door. “Come in, Frank.”

  “Hal!” Frank opened the door and yelled. “Don’t say my name. Pretend you don’t have the ability to know it’s me. Just say come in. You’re pissing me off, which isn’t bad. I need that.”

  Danny shook his head when Frank left. “Don’t ask me. He’s your brother.”

  Bang!

  Hal nodded. “Come in.”

  The door blasted opened,
banged off of the file cabinet, and immediately after his storm in, Frank slammed the door. “Hal!”

  Calmly, with his hands folded, Hal peered up. “Is there something wrong, Frank?”

  “Yes.” Frank moved toward the desk. “Where the fuck is Elliott Ryder?”

  “Doing your job.”

  “No.” Frank lifted a finger. “I’m doing my job.”

  “No, Frank, you’re not. You aren’t allowed to do rounds. Elliott is doing them. You’re just over seeing it. Why are you looking for him?”

  “It’s Monday,” Frank answered. “I can’t find his fuckin stupid reports that have to be turned in. I’m gathering up all my division reports.”

  Danny pulled the clipboard from the desk and lifted the sheet. “Joe usually doesn’t hit Security until after two. It’s still morning.”

  “So,” Frank said. “I always have my reports done just in case.”

  Hal lifted his hand with a tilted head. “There you have it, Frank. He’s not you.”

  “True. So where is he?” Frank asked.

  “I don’t know.” Hal leaned back. “He’s following your typical schedule. It’s nine in the morning. Where are you usually at nine in the morning?”

  “Fuck.” Frank bit his bottom lip. “Fuck!”

  “What!” Hal blasted then shooed his hand to a laughing Danny.

  “Oh, he fuckin better not be doing what I do at nine in the morning.” Frank flung open the door.

  “Frank?” Through his chuckling, Danny called out. “I’m curious. What are you usually doing at nine in the morning?”

  “Um . . . nothing really.” Frank shrugged. “But that sounded really good. Now back to being pissed.” Frank went out the door with a slam.

  Hal calmly shook his head. “I haven’t a clue. It’s Frank.”

  ^^^^

  The biscuit wasn’t warm but it was still fresh, and to Jenny Matoose, the perfect time was at hand to eat that small biscuit. There was strawberry jam spread across it with the right amount of butter. As she peered across her class room to her students, who worked diligently at their desks, she lifted the biscuit.