The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  Softly Misha glanced to Hector. “You are so very sweet. I would like to live in Beginnings one day. In fact. I would like to live here soon. I went to Captain Slagel. He said if I would like a job here in Beginnings, then he will authorize the house to live. Until then he prefers my stay in New Bowman.”

  “Then get a job here,” Jenny stated. “I know you have that shop but we have lots of jobs in Beginnings. The bakery has an opening since Bev was shot in the head and we know you bake. You made that lovely desert. Which by the way . . .” Jenny stood up. “Let me get it.” Ignoring Henry’s ‘it figures’, Jenny went to the kitchen.

  “I like to cook,” Misha told everyone, “but I would like a job that is important, one that will teach me a life skill.”

  Hector’s head popped to attention at the doorbell. “Hold that thought.” He raise his voice some. “Come in.”

  The baby cry was heard first then as the door opened, Dean walked in with Nick. “I brought back the baby for you.”

  “Dean.” Hector stood up. “Thanks. You didn’t have to. We would have come for him. I thought Joe wanted him longer.”

  “Well, he was getting fussy for you, Hector.” Dean gave a quick shift if his eyes to Henry then handed Nick to Hector. “I have to get to the clinic. I have a ton of work to do.”

  “Dr. Hayes.” Misha spoke to him. “It is Christmas. You work on Christmas?”

  “Not normally,” Dean answered. “Usually, I would just go in to check my patients, but . . . my wife is, well, you know, out of town, so to speak and I’m buried.”

  Comforting Nick and quieting him, Hector took his seat. “You probably didn’t get things too ready either. I know a lot of us were very wishful she wouldn’t go.”

  “I’m at the top of that list.” Dean backed up. “You’re right. My wishful thinking kept me from being prepared.”

  Jenny emerged from the kitchen with a huge cake. “Dean, will you stay for dessert?”

  “No.” Dean lifted his hand. “I can’t. Thank you. I really have to go. If I’m this far behind in three days, I hate to see my lab in a month.”

  Misha spoke up. “I did not realize your wife helped you so much.”

  “Help?” Dean smiled then chuckled. “That’s an understatement. You can say my wife is half my whole.” He nodded. “Goodnight.”

  Misha’s eyes stayed on the door even after Dean had left.

  “Misha?” Jenny called her. “Are you all right.”

  “I apologize.” Misha drew her thoughts back to the table. “I was thinking. Sorry.”

  “I hope not about Dean.” Jenny sliced the cake.

  “I was thinking more about what he does,” Misha responded.

  John added. “Odd things. If you need to wonder what he does, he does odd things. A lot of good, but a lot of odd also.”

  “Yep,” Jenny exhaled as she started to serve the cake. “Pretty much because of Dean and his works, there is nothing, absolutely nothing, we haven’t seen in Beginnings.”

  Hector lifted a finger. “That we know of.”

  Jenny chuckled. “Please, Hector. Think about it. What else can there be?”

  ^^^^

  “So . . .” Robbie paused to light his cigarette as he, Ellen, and Christopher sat in the living room. “How long has your skin been see through?”

  “See through?” Christopher asked. “I don’t understand. My skin?”

  “Yeah. Look.” Robbie held out his hand. “This is skin,” he explained. “You don’t really have this.”

  “No one does,” Christopher answered.

  “We do.” Robbie replied.

  “You are God-like.”

  Robbie grinned. “True. We are.”

  Ellen rolled her eyes. “Christopher, everyone has skin.” She pulled some of her own on her arm.

  “Not my people. We don’t,” Christopher explained. “We are the cursed ones. When God’s wrath spread the illness. God spared us but we had to pay for our sins and the sins of our forefathers. He took from us the protective covering from the elements. Skin as you call it.”

  “El?” Robbie questioned. “Can this be an after effect of the plague?”

  “No way,” Ellen answered. “They had to have had a prolonged to something. Christopher, how many of your people are there?”

  “There are many, too many to count. When the wrath hit, there weren’t that many, but we multiplied through God’s goodness.”

  Ellen nodded. “And the new people, the babies. Do they look like you?”

  “Yes.” Christopher nodded.

  Ellen looked at Robbie. “A chemical exposure manipulated the genes. Dean has to check him out. This is gonna be awesome. I have to keep him here until I take enough notes.”

  “Where do you come from?” Robbie asked.

  “I live far away. It’s close to the end of the world where God’s tears flowed.”

  “I’m not real sure where that is,” Robbie said. “Where did God leave his tears?”

  “A huge body of salty water. It’s violent at times and flaps at you when you get too close. Roaring and foaming, it’s hungry for you.”

  At the same time Robbie and Ellen looked at each other and spoke, “Ocean”

  “The West Coast,” Robbie said. “It can’t be the East. Man, so you live by God’s tears, huh? Must be tough to visit there with no skin. Doesn’t the sun burn you?”

  “We do not visit there. It is forbidden. What is the sun?” Christopher asked.

  “The big yellow bright thing that is hot in the sky,” Robbie explained.

  “Oh, yes. It burns us,” Christopher stated. “It is the devil’s tool. He who exposes himself to it is worshiping of the devil and he will burn in hell.”

  “A-huh.” Robbie nodded. “So you cover up when you go into the light of the devils tool?”

  “We cover up, yes, but only the explorers like myself who dare to conquer the land that the devil has reaped, cover. The others never dare to go out into the sun. If you come up from God’s world, you are not allowed back in, though many of us have hid the fact that we have sinned and risen up to explore.”

  “Come up?” Robbie asked. “Chris, do you live underground?”

  “Below the surface, yes. With God.”

  Robbie closed his lips tightly and nodded. “Let me get this straight. You live with God under the ground. Hmm. It sounds cool but, uh, Chris, we aren’t the devil.”

  Christopher’s eyes widened. “No, I did not say you were. Forgive me if I implied that. Praise you. You are blessed. You are God-like. You come from Utopia, the second heaven many dream of seeking out.”

  “That we do.” Robbie stood up. “I’ll be right back. I need more coffee. El?” He started to walk.

  “Um . . .” Ellen smiled then stood as well. “Yes.” She hurried and followed Robbie into the kitchen. “Robbie?” she whispered. “What do you think?” She gave a backwards motion of her head.

  “You mean about Chris?” Robbie asked. “El.” He poured some coffee, picked up his cup, and grinned. “We are gonna have a blast with him.”

  Just as Ellen wondered how Robbie was going to find humor in the stale young man, she received her answer when she heard Robbie say, ‘Hey, Chris, did you ever hear about the Utopian God of War? His name is Frank.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  January 2nd

  The law of averages dictated had Robbie not tried to talk before he completely swallowed his coffee, he wouldn’t have dribbled the hot liquid down his chin. “El.” He coughed a little then set down the cup. “Come on. We’re on the Moe takes advantage of old lady Josie scene.”

  “Sorry. I’m coming.” Ellen called from the kitchen. “One sec.”

  “What are you doing?” Robbie asked.

  “I’m just putting another pot on.” Ellen walked into the dining room then sat next to Robbie as he faced the laptop. “We can do that now. It’s been nine days and we’re ahead on our rations.”

  “Cool.”

  “Ok.�
�� Ellen placed her mug next to Robbie’s and pulled the laptop to her. “What did you write?”

  “Not much. About this point in my physical career, I think faster than I type. I need you.”

  She turned her head to face him and smiled. “That’s why I’m here.”

  “Nine days, El. Nine days,” he said with enthusiasm. “How many pages do we have?”

  “Two hundred and forty-five. We’re cool.”

  “That we are. This is actually good,” Robbie said. “I’d like to have it finished before we get back.”

  “You know we will.”

  Robbie shrugged. “I don’t know. This is turning out to be an epic novel.”

  “It’s Beginnings.”

  “True.”

  “What do we have?” Ellen made the laptop face Robbie. “Read to me what you wrote.”

  “Ready?” Robbie waited for Ellen to nod. He cleared his throat, then started to read. “There was nothing particularly sexy to Moe about the way Josie looked. In fact, she was an old woman. She was wrinkled and frail with a mouth that flapped as much as her excess breast skin . . .”

  “Oh, good line.”

  “You like that? I thought of it without a pause.” Robbie smiled then returned to reading. “It wasn’t a pleasure or an attraction that brought Moe to the shoe factory division. It was the need for power over the little woman who wanted so badly to get out of the sweat shop. What would she give him? How far would she go to stop her boney hands from aching? Moe knew if he approached her with the right offer, not only would Josie do what he asked, in her mind he would be her hero. Hero meant power. Moe was the leader. He thrived on that.”

  “Robbie, this is good.” Ellen smiled.

  “Wait until you hear this . . .” Robbie scrolled down the page. “What conquest would it be for Moe? Certainly not the first. It was far from the first and Josie wouldn’t be his last. Maybe she’d be wiry, feisty and add some spark that others did not when he had his way. And he had his way with anyone who wanted to go anywhere in the town of Dawning. Young women, old, even men were not immune to the power trip he was on. It was a power trip driven by his demented sexual urges. How he would take her was the question. Would he . . .” Robbie sat back. “And that’s all the further I got.”

  “Were you wanting Moe to walk up to her and start the seduction?”

  “I was thinking that.”

  “No.” Ellen shook her head. “Moe did that the last sex scene. Remember? The young school mistress, Penny.”

  “No, he didn’t,” Robbie argued. “Moe blackmailed the teacher, remember?”

  “No. What would he have on her to blackmail?”

  “Keeping her teaching position,” Robbie explained. “He was going to give it to Meg if she didn’t put out.”

  “You’re right on that point, but . . .” Ellen was insistent. “He didn’t give her a chance to respond. That was our pity scene. We wanted to reader to feel sorry for her. Moe didn’t give Penny a choice. He walked up, grabbed her, turned her . . .” Ellen saw Robbie shake his head. “Robbie, I’m telling you that is the scene you used that brilliant description, ‘Her full body was a thick pillow that Moe sunk into with every thrust he delivered.”

  “Oh.” Robbie nodded in discovery. “You’re right.”

  “He has to talk to Josie. She’s too smart. She’ll have to be frightened into it by words.”

  “You have a point.” Robbie slid the computer Ellen’s way. “You type it. We can’t have him too strong in his words. We want the real heavy words for when he goes after Gene the scientist.”

  Ellen, agreeable to that, and ready to type, stopped at the clearing of a throat. She turned around to see Christopher standing there. “Hi.” She smiled at him.

  “Good morning.” Christopher walked into the dining room.

  “Hey Chris,” Robbie said. “Good to see you up and about.”

  “Are you feeling better?” Ellen asked.

  “Yes,” Christopher responded.

  “You look better.” Robbie winked. “Not as pale.” He grunted when Ellen hit him.

  “I do not feel as pale and I feel much better,” Christopher stated. “Thank you for sprinkling the God dust over me last night, Robbie.”

  “Not a problem.” Robbie waved off Ellen who was questioning ‘God dust?’

  With his hand on his stomach, Christopher walked closer. “I don’t know why I was so ill.”

  “It was the vegetables,” Ellen answered. “You’ve never eaten them. You’re system wasn’t used to those and, well, they can clean you out.”

  “Ah.” Christopher nodded knowingly. “I have received a cleansing.”

  “A God-like cleansing,” Robbie corrected. “You are internally clean for your trip to Beginnings.”

  “When can I make the remaining journey to Utopia?” Christopher asked.

  Robbie shrugged and looked at Ellen. “El, can you answer? You’re the Goddess of Wonder.”

  “In a day or two. Your strength should be up by then,” Ellen explained. “Plus I want to finish my assessment notes for Dean.’

  Robbie tossed a point. “Dean. The God of what, Chris?”

  “Dean is the small and mighty God of Medicine,” Christopher answered proudly.

  “Good job.” Robbie gave a thumbs up. “Have a seat.”

  “Thank you.” Christopher pulled out a chair. “And thank you for teaching me about Utopia. I will be full of knowledge when I arrive. They’ll be impressed and let me in?”

  “Very much so,” Robbie answered. “In fact, they may try to talk to Zeus about making you a little God.”

  “That would be a dream too much to wish for,” Christopher wisped out. “Will you put good things about me in the assessment notes, Goddess of Wonder?”

  Ellen snickered. “Call me Ellen, please. And you don’t have to have to call him by his God name either. Call him Robbie.”

  Christopher looked at Robbie. “Can I have that honor?”

  Robbie laid his index finger on his chin and peered up to the ceiling. “Yes. Yes.” Robbie seriously looked at him. “You may.”

  “Thank you.” Christopher shuffled in his seat with excitement. “Ellen, you will put good things about me in your notes to the medicine God?”

  “I will. But . . .” Ellen dropped her voice. “You cannot let anyone, not a soul, not a God, only Frank or Dean see you with those papers. We will get in trouble if you let them see that.”

  “Chris,” Robbie added. “I’ve blessed you, guy. You have to make sure no one sees you pass those reports.”

  “On my soul.” Christopher raised his hands. “May I ask why you’ll get in trouble?”

  Robbie answered, “We’re on a prayer retreat and such. We aren’t supposed to speak to anyone while we pray and write the word.” He pointed to the computer.

  “Ah, the Gospel yes. You are writing a Gospel?” Christopher said.

  “Yes we are. It’s all about Zeus. Every God has a Bible.” Robbie winked. “This is his. You know the story we gave you, right? You can tell the truth to who? Who are the trusted?”

  Christopher paused to think, then he spewed forth his list. “Zeus, God of Utopia. Frank, God of War. Dean, Small and Mighty God of Medicine. Elliott, God of Hispanic Crooners, and finally Hal, God of the Effeminately Dressed.”

  Robbie continued to test Christopher. “You are allowed to tell them we helped you. The rest? What do you tell them?”

  “Ah, this is easy.” Christopher said. “I tell them that I came across Hal, God of the Effeminately Dressed. I tell them that Hal, God of the Effeminately Dressed, was a Futomara to me and since he was a Futomara, I went to Beginnings. The Utopia.”

  Robbie grinned with a nod. ‘You got it.” He saw the stare on Ellen’s face. “What?”

  “Robbie,” Ellen spoke softly. “Not that I’m one who doesn’t like to have fun with people. I do. I do my share at Containment but you are really gonna have him confused.”

  “No, I’m not. Chris,
is everything I taught you everything you imagined about Beginnings?”

  “Oh, yes.” Christopher agreed. “It’s exactly as I thought.”

  “See?” Robbie pointed to him. “I reiterated the truth.” He lifted his views. “El?” He turned as Ellen walked by him. “We have the Gospel, El?” After she silently left, Robbie shrugged his shoulders. “She does things without explanation.” Robbie dropped his voice to a whisper. “That’s why she is the Goddess of Wonder.”

  ^^^^

  “Twinkies.” Frank sat on a stool in the cryo-lab and leaned into the counter. He was holding a cake.

  “What about them?” Dean asked as he sat across from Frank. The Einstein lunch box between them.

  “Why has Danny Hoi not re-invented Twinkies?”

  “These are close.” Dean held up the yellow cake.

  “Dean, please. It’s cake with jam.” Frank fluttered his lips. “It’s hardly Twinkies.”

  “You have a point.”

  “I know they can make them, too.” Frank finished off his cake and picked up his coffee. “I mean, look at those little carrot cakes they make for me over the bakery.”

  “Oh, those . . . those are good.”

  “Tiny little carrot cakes and inside are little puffs of the cream cheese icing.”

  Oddly Dean looked at him. “How did they end up with those?”

  “I asked for Twinkies.” Frank tossed up his hand. “They didn’t have any. I asked for carrot cake. They didn’t have any so the drunk thought she’d be funny and made those.”

  “But . . . but you’re the only one who eats them and you like them,” Dean said. “Why is she still making them?”

  Frank smiled. “I bitched about them. I told her I hated them and that’s all she’ll distribute to me now.”

  “That’s smart.” Dean used a napkin to wipe off his hands and tossed it. “Look at us, Frank. We’re pathetic, aren’t we?”

  “No.”

  “Yeah.” Dean stood up and ran his fingers through his hair. “We are. We’ve resorted to talking about snack cakes. You take your coffee break with me, Frank.”

  “Yeah, so. Don’t you want me to?”