The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  “Yes.” Joe smiled.

  “Why is Elliott mediating?”

  “I got to the root of your problem, Dean.” Joe winked. “You’ll thank me.”

  “For?” Dean asked.

  “This.” Joe set a pocket size recorder on the counter. “Listen to this.” He pressed the ‘play’ button.

  Hector’s voice played through. “What do you want me to tell you, Mr. Slagel?”

  “Hector, come on,” Joe spoke reasonably. “I know you. I like you. I’ve never seen you be violent, not like this. You admitted you went after Dean. All I want to know is what happened? Why? Why did you go after him?”

  “I had good reason.”

  “Of course you did. Tell me the good reason.”

  “He ruined my life.”

  “Well, that’s not news or reason to beat him up. Dean’s ruined plenty of lives.”

  With his eyes rolling and mouth open, Dean shook his head. “Thanks a lot, Joe.”

  With one eye closed, Joe point to the recorder.

  “Mr. Slagel, this is no joke. He ruined my life. He is the reason Misha broke up with me.”

  “OK, now this seems absurd, Hector. Dean’s the reason Misha broke up with you? I knew the little scientist seems to have his hands in all the trouble around here, but to break you guys up? Let’s be realistic. He’s not working with her, touching with her, or messing around with her. I’ll personally vouch for that.”

  “That’s not the reason she ended it.”

  “What’s the reason?” Joe asked.

  “Misha informed me that Dean . . . that Dean told her that not only were Henry and I lovers, but he also told Misha I fucked every man in Beginnings.”

  The player shut off.

  Elliott shook his head. “Dean. You dog.”

  Dean was so shocked he couldn’t speak.

  “Ah.” Joe halted any words from coming out of Dean’s mouth. “Before you say anything, I know you, Dean. I know you don’t give a rat’s ass about anyone’s business. I also know that you wouldn’t deliberately tell Misha about Hector and Henry.”

  “On purpose or not, Joe, I didn’t say anything. Hector’s lying,” Dean defended.

  “Is he?” Joe asked. He switched tapes in the recorder and pressed play again.

  “Misha, who told you about Hector and Henry and a few other incidents he had with men?” Joe asked Misha.

  Misha answered, “It was more than a few other men.”

  “Whatever . . . who told you this?’

  “Dean.”

  “I find this hard to believe. I mean, why would Dean tell you this?”

  There was a long pause before Misha spoke again. “He has been trying for some time to break up me and Hector. He has wanted me for himself. I guess this was his way of revenge because I have spurned his advances to me.”

  Joe shut off the player. “Once again, Dean, there’s that nasty little accusation of sexual harassment.”

  Dean’s eyes closed. “Joe, I . . . .”

  “Don’t bother, Dean,” Joe said. “I know the truth. I know it,” he nodded assuredly. “Now, I say enough is enough. And it’s time to ring out the truth. The truth being . . .” He pointed to the player. “This little girl has a problem, a big problem. I think you’re the one who can start a rectification. It starts with you. You can set her straight. You’re the only one.” Joe started to walk away.

  “Joe? Me?” Dean asked. “Why am I the only one?”

  “I can’t,” Joe replied. “As a leader, I can’t step into personal problems. She’s not a bad kid, just messed up. She needs a strong . . . she needs a strong opinion to straighten her out, or at least start. The women, they won’t do it. They stick together. The men . . .” Joe fluttered his lips. “The men in Beginnings are fearful to insult or argue with a woman on the outside chance they may get laid by her later. And the UWA, they won’t say shit to a woman at all. Nope. There’s only two men who can argue with a woman, yell at her, make her cry, not give a shit, and not have their reputations tarnished, because every women already hates them. Frank is the one and the other . . . is you.” Joe smiled and moved to the door. “Sgt. Ryder, you are to be a witness and not say a word. Dean . . . do something about this.” He walked out then stepped back in. “After all, you started it.”

  Probably puzzled more than anything else, after Joe walked out, Dean turned to Elliott. “How did I start it?’

  “Firing her perhaps. May I ask you a question, Dr. Hayes? You don’t have to answer it.”

  “Go on.”

  “I know instances I saw with my own eyes that confused me, instances with you and Misha. Are you sure there was not something more than you let on?”

  “Let on to who?” Dean asked. “You? Frank? Anyone else who seemed to think I was . . .”

  Elliott wondered why not only did Dean stop speaking, but his entire expression froze in that mid-thought. Turning to see what Dean was staring at, Elliott spotted Misha standing in the lab doorway.

  Misha’s nervous swallow was predominant.

  Elliott walked to the door and closed it behind her. “Come in.”

  “I need assurance, Sgt. Ryder . . .” Misha spoke softly, “that you are here in protection of me. That you will not allow him to harm me.”

  “Dr. Hayes will not touch you,” Elliott confirmed.

  “Verbally as well. I do not wish to take a beating.”

  Calmly, Elliott answered. “I will intervene if words fly unjustly, but surely if there is nothing to worry about, if no wrong was committed on your part, then a verbal beating is nothing to fear.”

  “Then I do not fear.” Misha lifted her head high. “Mr. Slagel believes you and I, Dr. Hayes, have some problems we need to work out.”

  “Some problems? Dean stepped to her. “No, I’d say we have a lot of problems. Most of them are big. Most of them stem from nothing. Do you understand that?”

  Misha looked to Elliott. “I do not like his tone.”

  “I judge it to be fear and will intervene if necessary.” Elliott stood behind Misha, allowing more of a ‘face to face’ to occur.

  “Then let’s be fair,” Dean said with a soft edge. “Take a look at my face, Misha. I was working, minding my own business when Hector barrels in and decks me. We then proceed to fight, and I find out after the fact, the fight over you.”

  Almost too innocently, Misha gave a confused shrug. “I do not know what to tell you. Fighting over me is noble, but neither of you are in my preference.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” Dean commented. “Let me rephrase. We fought about you. We fought because you and Hector broke up.”

  “We broke up because of the vile things Hector has done with other men. That is not the reason Hector came for you.”

  “You’re right. Hector came after me because you told him I was the one who told you about Hector’s reputation.”

  “You did.”

  The loud ‘what!’ blasted Dean’s appalled nature. “That is an out and out lie. I did no such thing.”

  “I beg to differ, Dr. Hayes. You were the one that told me.”

  “Bullshit.” Dean’s hand slammed to the counter. “Enough of this bullshit. I did not tell you that. I would never tell you that, so why . . . why would you blame me?”

  “Because you were the viable option.”

  Dean could only blink in shock. “Viable option.”

  “Yes. People generally do not like you. They like my friend. He is the one that told me. I will protect him.”

  “Your friend? You don’t have any male friends. You’re afraid of men so . . . ah.” Dean nodded with a smirk. “You’re protecting Ben.”

  “Mr. From-Fabrics is my friend.”

  “Who is a male. You judge Hector’s actions when your friend does . . .” Dean stopped when he heard the loud inhale breath come from Elliott. He lifted his views to see Elliott wide eyed. “What is it, Sgt. Ryder?”

  Elliott prepared to speak, but stopped. He couldn’t. It wa
sn’t his place to take sides even though he himself had the ultimate argument and comeback for Dean. “Nothing.” Elliott shook his head then widened his eyes more to Dean behind Misha’s back to try to convey he knew something.

  Dean continued, “Ben is a male who performs the same so call vile acts as you claim Hector does.”

  “Ben has a birth defect. He was supposed to be a woman. Hector is all male,” Misha said smugly. “He is not confused on which gender he is.”

  Dean laughed. “That has got . . .” He noticed Elliott behind Misha pointing to her. He mouthed the word, ‘what?’ to Elliott.

  Misha spun around.

  Elliott quickly folded his arms and smiled. When Misha returned to looking at Dean, Elliott again moved his lips in word formation, widened his eyes, and pointed at her.

  Dean wasn’t in the mood for charades. He had an argument at hand. “Ben is confused? Please. You have this high and mighty attitude. Why is that?”

  Silently grunting, Elliott shook his head, lips tightly closed and nodded his head at Misha.

  Ignoring the new symptoms of Tourette ’s syndrome Elliott had seemed to develop, Dean returned to his question. “Why is that? Why the judgmental attitude?”

  “Because it is wrong.”

  “You don’t blame Ben.”

  “Mr. From-Fabrics is confused,” Misha said. “Hector did what he did purely for the satisfaction of the flesh. He did it unnaturally and against what God wants.”

  “What God wants? God left no women if you want to use God in this. Hector sought the companionship the fleshly needs. What he does, every man does.”

  Misha chuckled. “Oh, I do not believe that. Every man?”

  ‘Dean, look at me.’ Elliott facially conveyed. ‘Dean, I have your comeback. Dean. Fuck.’

  “Yeah, everyman,” Dean replied.

  “Including you?” She asked.

  If there was one thing Dean hated to do that was lose or be proven wrong and in the middle of his argument, Dean was bound and determined not to be proven wrong, especially by Misha.

  “Including you?” she asked again.

  Up went Dean’s head and he returned the smug look. “Yes, even me.”

  Misha gasped.

  Elliott’s hand ejected to his face. He knew Dean would say anything at any cost to put Misha in her place. He just was missing the best one. Sliding his hand down his face, Elliott had it. It might have been crude, but it was a surefire and perfect way to get across his message.

  “You are married,” Misha said appalled.

  “Well, yeah, but the male-to male thing doesn’t count.” Dean sniffed. “Quite often Frank and I get together and . . .” Dean made a double click sound of his tongue and winked “Hash it out.”

  “You make me sick. You disappoint me. I could not come to you for medical help again.”

  Doing something Hal would have done way earlier in the argument, Elliott held up his index and middle fingers and placed them in a ‘V’ manner to his lips.

  “I make you sick?” Dean laughed. “You . . . you . . .” Then he saw the message Elliott gave. He could have, at that instant, screamed in the shock of what he watched the mild mannered and proper Elliott Ryder convey but he didn’t. Dean went right with the flow. “You . . .”

  Slam went Dean’s hand to the counter.

  “. . . have room to talk.” He nodded and stepped to her. “We make you sick? Pleasures of the flesh? Unnatural acts? Man-to-man? Against God? Tell me, Misha . . .” Dean dropped his voice. “I’m going to assume was all right, it was natural, and was not against God the last time you had a woman’s head between your legs.”

  The argument was over, at least for right then. Misha only gasped then, after doing her typical emotional sob, she bolted past Elliott and raced from the lab.

  Dean held his firm composure just in case Misha bolted back in. When he knew it was safe, he exhaled. “Was that true?”

  “Yes, very much so,” Elliott answered.

  “That was perfect.” Dean smiled. “It was the perfect thing to shut her . . .” A slight silent wince took over Dean and he brought this hand to his eyes with a groan.

  “What? What is it?”

  “Do you think . . .” Dean slid his hand down. “Do you think it would have been more perfect had I known it before I told her Frank and I were gay lovers?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Mt. Pleasant, Utah

  It was a long day, especially for Frank. More than anything he just wanted to go to sleep, but he couldn’t. A part of him just wanted to stay awake and enjoy the non-movement. His body probably could have used at least eight hours of sleep. After the morning battle and the worrying about Hal, not only did Frank drive Hal and Ellen to where they would hide, but he had to drive and get Robbie from where the chopper was placed.

  The whole entire time he went to get his little brother and bring him back to Mt. Pleasant, Frank thought. He worried about Hal and Ellen’s safety. He worried about his life after the Game was over because a part of Frank knew a lot of his life was going to change the moment he returned to Beginning. He just hoped that it would be for the better and not for the lonelier, like he had been fearing.

  The weather was warm, so no heat was needed. They found the best house with the least amount of dirt. Hal rested on a make-shift bed in the dining room and after seeing that his brother didn’t wake up after another attempt, Frank went to the living room where Robbie and Ellen were seated.

  He pulled the pocket doors only partially closed as he entered.

  They were sitting back and relaxing. Robbie was working on something with wires.

  Frank was tired. He didn’t want to admit it, but the second he joined them in the room and listened to the boring talk between them, he dozed off.

  It was a rest he was entitled to and would very much need as they wound into the end of the Game.

  ^^^^

  “Well, I hope you told him, ‘no’, goddamn it.” George rubbed his eyes as he spoke on the phone. “Good. Good. Keep me posted. Stew, make sure you keep an eye on him.”

  Bertha watched George hang up. It was a few seconds and George still hadn’t faced her. “What happened?”

  “Two things.” George exhaled and turned around. “We learned that Jess is pretty much being straight up with us about everything. And two . . . Johnny really does have amnesia.”

  Bertha was taken aback. “How was that determined?”

  “Ready for this?” George gave a raise of his eyebrows. “Johnny asked to go back to Beginnings.”

  Her chest moved a little in a second shock. “Can I ask how this proves his amnesia?”

  “If Johnny really did remember what all he did in Beginnings, Slagel or not, he wouldn’t have the balls to go back there.” Another slow exhale came from George. “Now I’m feeling bad. I mean, I doubted him and the kid is in need.”

  “Why would he want to go back to Beginnings, amnesia or not? We told him what he did. He is not ignorant to the antics.”

  “Why would he want to go back? My guess is his family.” George shrugged. “He misses his family. No, wait. He misses Joe.”

  “Is there anything we can do?”

  “Not until we get back.”

  Slowly Bertha nodded. “I believe it is a matter of patience, sir. Patience and in time his memory will all come back. Until then, you’ll have to wade through his emotional turmoil.”

  “Unless we give him something to take his mind off of it. Maybe even . . .” George’s face lit up with revelation. “Maybe even something that could give him what he needs and help him.”

  “What is that?”

  “A trip.” George nodded. “Yes. I think we should give some serious thought to when Jess Boyens goes, we should send Johnny right along with him for a short trip to Disney World. Yep.” Again George nodded. “I think that would aid him immensely.”

  ^^^^

  Dean noticed the queer look upon Joe’s face as Joe leaned into the dining ro
om chair as he looked at Billy in the kitchen.

  “What is it?” Dean asked.

  “Are you sure he was created the natural way?” Joe asked with a point.

  Dean looked at Elliott, who laughed, then a little disturbed, he looked back to Joe. “You’re sounding like my father. Are you saying I made a test tube baby?”

  “No, a clone. That kid is a miniature you,” Joe said with a shake of his head. “Down to the baggy little jeans. What in Christ’s name is he making?”

  Dean shrugged. “Probably something to drink while reading.” Dean’s hand reached for the music player.

  “No,” Joe stopped him. “Not again. I do not want to hear the recording of them talking. I listened to my son enough.”

  “I don’t know.” Dean leaned back in the chair. “Maybe I keep listening, hoping to hear an ounce of insincerity and that he’s doing all this for selfish reasons.”

  “Well, you won’t. So . . . stop trying.” Joe told him.

  Dean folded his hands. “He wants Ellen.”

  “Dean,” Joe said so fatherly. “He’s always wanted Ellen. This is nothing new. Of course, if the Misha stories he gave Ellen don’t work on breaking up you two, the talk that’s rushing about town certainly may help him out.”

  With a groan, Dean buried his head under his arms on the table.

  Elliott chuckled. “That is if Frank doesn’t kill you first.”

  Joe waved out his hand. “Nah. Male. Female. Doesn’t matter. Gossip concerning him feeds Frank. He’ll get an ego trip out of this one.”

  “Really?” Elliott asked. “Despite how much people are talking.”

  “Well, yeah. However it’s a good thing for Dean that Frank’s men don’t believe,” Joe said. “Frank might get mad then, but Frank’s guys are pretty much denying it to everyone saying it’s just wishful thinking again on Dean’s part.”

  From under his arm, Dean’s voice mumbled. “Oh my God. I can’t believe the whole town is talking about me and Frank being gay lovers.”

  The clank of the spoon again the ceramic cup caught all their attention.

  Dean, with a ‘no’, lifted his head to see Billy standing there. “Billy . . .”