The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  “No.”

  “What would it take, Joe?” Ellen nearly pleaded. “What would it take for you to consider this?”

  Joe stared long and hard. “Three things.”

  “What.”

  “One, I want to hear from Doyle, verbally or written, that he trusts these people and they wouldn’t do a set up.”

  “I can do that.’

  “Second.” Joe raised another finger. “I know you’re knowledgeable, but you also admitted you don’t know much about tumors and this stuff is raw. I want Dean to review this stuff, give his opinion, state whether or not it should be looked into and what type of testing needs to be done to determine if Beginnings steps in medically to help.”

  “I can do that.” Ellen nodded.

  “Last.” Joe grabbed his coffee and walked around his desk. “You get one of my sons to agree to go with you.”

  “Oh my God. Joe they won’t . . .”

  “One of them.” Joe reached the door. “My boys only. Get me all three and then I’ll consider, just consider, letting you go there.” Joe opened the door and walked out.

  “I can do that,” Ellen said to the closing door. She cringed when she heard Joe yell at Hal to wake up and then she faced the case. “Doyle, I can do. Dean will be no problem.” Ellen nodded with certainty. “Hal, Frank, or Robbie to go . . . oh brother.” Ellen closed her eyes and rested her hands on the case. “I’m fucked.”

  ^^^^

  It was going to be a good day. Frank was sure of it. He had two dilemmas to face and already one of them was already solved. He felt good about it and couldn’t wait to share the news with Robbie. Mission accomplished and Frank worked at it too. At first he thought it would be an easy take, but Andrea gave him some argument. That’s what he remembered about their conversation the night before.

  “Limited.” Frank stated the night before

  “Ok.” Andrea nodded.

  “Are you all right? You seem tired?”

  “It’s two in the morning, Frank, you woke me.”

  “Oh. Okay, that explains it. Anyway, can you?”

  “Can I what?”

  “Explain it?”

  “Why? It’s two in the morning.”

  “No, I know why it’s two in the morning. I think. But explain limited. Robbie was talking about his arm and . . .”

  “Oh.” The singing word of understanding flowed out. “Yes, limited. No more than everyday use.”

  “I’m lost.”

  “Where are you lost?”

  “On the limited. Is it counted daily?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Not hourly.”

  “It depends on how much.”

  “How much what?” Frank asked.

  “Use.”

  “So it’s timed?”

  “What’s timed?”

  “His arm. It’s limited.”

  Andrea was confused. “Why would we time the limited use? You mean can he use it longer than an hour.”

  “Yes.”

  “Sure, as long as he doesn’t use it too much.”

  “So it counts.”

  “Of course,” Andrea said. “All use counts.”

  “When does it end?”

  “In a week.”

  “Andrea, that’s not right.”

  “I’m sorry, Frank. That’s the way it is,” Andrea said. “He can’t be running around using that arm left and right.”

  “Right.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “He can use his left one, just not his right.”

  “He can use his right, just not too much.”

  “One week.”

  “Yes”

  “Then what?” Frank asked. “Are you taking it back? Just cutting it off?”

  “What in sweet Jesus’s name are you talking about?”

  “Um, Andrea, his arm.”

  “Why would I cut off his arm? We just put it on.”

  “Because you said.”

  “I said no such thing.”

  “You told Robbie he could only have the arm for a limited time.”

  “No.” Andrea shook her head. “Limited use.”

  “Okay.”

  Andrea saw the distant look. “Use and time are two different things. He can have the arm forever, Frank, but he can’t use it too much.”

  “So he has to just let it dangle there after a week.”

  “No!” It took Andrea everything she had not to yell. “He can use it forever. He just needs to use it easily this week. He can keep it after that and use it all he wants.”

  “Excellent. Thanks.” Frank nodded with a smile “That’s what I wanted.” He moved to the door. “Oh, Andrea.”

  Exasperated, Andrea looked up. “Yes?”

  “When can I get Robbie out of the clinic?”

  “First thing in the morning.”

  “Thanks.” With those instructions and permission granted for Robbie to keep his arm, Frank left. It brought another dilemma.

  First thing in the morning.

  What constituted first thing in the morning?

  In Beginnings there were a lot of variations of first thing in the morning. Frank, his ‘first thing in the morning’ was very first thing in the morning. Andrea’s ‘first thing in the morning’ was about seven. His father’s ‘first thing in the morning’ used to be an earlier ‘first thing in the morning’, but since things slowed down some it was a later ‘first thing in the morning’. But what if it was Robbie’s ‘first thing in the morning’? The Frank would be running around all day waiting for that because he knew Robbie never had a morning.

  What to do. What to do?

  Frank debated on finding a midway of morning times, but he didn’t know whether or not to start his rounds and return. He’d rather not start his work day because he wanted Robbie to tag with him most of the day. Not only did Frank plan on monitoring Robbie’s arm use, he wanted to spend time with his brother.

  It took a few rounds around the ‘Joe Park’, which Frank discovered was a soothing way to walk, then Frank decided to go on his ‘first thing in the morning’. After all, Andrea did tell him, and since she told Frank, it had to be his own time. But by the time he decided what to do it was pushing Joe’s ‘first thing in the morning’.

  Arriving at the clinic, Frank stopped and whined. “Fuck.’ He looked at the Jeep sitting there. “Hello,” he spoke sarcastically to himself. “No parking zone.” He pointed to a street sign newly erected by Danny. “Fuckin assholes can’t read. Ha.” From his back pocket, Frank pulled out a pad and began to write on the sheet. After finishing, he tore off the paper and placed it on the windshield of the Jeep, just under the wiper.

  Smiling at the fine he delivered, Frank turned to the clinic only to see Hal and Robbie walking out.

  “Fuck.”

  Robbie was confused at Frank’s despondency. “What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

  “I am. I just wanted to be the one to check you out.”

  “I’m sorry, Frank,” Hal stated. “I didn’t think. I got here and just took him out.”

  “So it was your first thing in the morning?” Frank asked. “I didn’t think of you, probably because you’re not supposed to be here. Why are you here?”

  “Waiting on Ellen,” Hal answered.

  “Here? At the clinic.”

  “Yes, here.”

  “At this clinic?”

  “Where else? She wanted me to meet her here.”

  “At this clinic, right here?”

  “Frank,” Hal said, perturbed. “Why do you keep asking me that?”

  “Because I think you’re confused.”

  Hal smirked. “Not me. You.”

  “Not me, you,” Frank stated. “You’re confused. You’re here.”

  “I’m supposed to be there.”

  “At this clinic?”

  “Yes.”

  “This clinic right here?”

  “What other clinic would there be.”

  �
��The one in New Bowman.”

  Hal scoffed. “Why would I meet Ellen at New Bowman’s clinic?”

  “Ha. Ha. Ha. Mr. Smart Ass.” Frank came back. “Because she’s in Bowman.”

  “She’s not in Bowman, Frank. She’s here.”

  “Nope.” Frank shook his head. “I saw her leave.”

  “You saw Ellen leave.”

  “I saw Ellen leave,” Frank said assuredly. “Maybe she didn’t think you were waiting. Why else are you waiting?”

  “Son of a bitch. She was supposed to head back with me.”

  “Maybe she thought you left when you were in the clinic doing the first thing in the morning release of Robbie.”

  “Maybe, but the Jeep was . . .” Hal paused. Slowly he moved to the windshield and pulled the paper. “A ticket.”

  Frank looked about and whistled.

  Robbie snickered.

  “Frank? Did you give me a ticket?”

  “Let’s go, Robbie.” Frank reached for Robbie’s arm and stopped. He pulled back his hand and placed it on Robbie’s back instead, just in case the arm wasn’t fully attached. “We have work to do.” He started to walk with Robbie. Turning, Frank spoke to Hal, “Oh, Hal, maybe next time you’ll pay attention to the parking signs.”

  “The parking signs?” Hal questioned then looked up to where Frank pointed. “No parking.” Shaking his head, he turned back around. Frank and Robbie faded quickly from sight. He looked at the fine. “Idiot. He fines me two Danny Dollars.” Shoving the ticket in his back pocket with intent on paying it later, Hal made his way into the Jeep. Needless to say his day wasn’t going well. No sleep, and not only did he get a parking fine, he got a fine while waiting on Ellen who had already returned to New Bowman.

  ^^^^

  Somehow the ‘just before sunrise’ awakening didn’t scream romantic to Dean. In fact, being rushed to get dressed and shuffled out of his sleeping corner in Containment dulled Dean’s senses and it took him a few minutes to realize not only wasn’t Ellen supposed to be escorting him through the dark Containment, but she wasn’t supposed to be there at all.

  “El.”

  “Shh. Again, quiet,” she spoke in a whisper as she opened the Skills Room door.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Getting you.”

  “Why are we going into the Skills Room?”

  “It’s the only way to get you out of here.”

  “We’re escaping.”

  Ellen chuckled. “No. I know Joe said to allow you to work, but I can’t bring what I need you to work on in here. Make sense?”

  “No.”

  Ellen bent down to the floor and opened up the escape hatch to the tunnels. “Make sense now?”

  “We’re going to the cryo?” Dean smiled.

  “You are.”

  “Still.” Without hesitation, Dean climbed down.

  Following, Ellen closed the hatch. “No one knows I’m here, so say nothing.” She led the way. “Be back by breakfast wake up.” She looked at her watch. “That’s two hours. Can you do that?”

  “Absolutely,” Dean responded.

  At the cryo-lab, Ellen punched in her code. “Everything is in here. All ready?”

  “What am I looking at?” Dean asked.

  After shutting the door, Ellen led him to the center counter where the Lodi case was. “This arrived last night by messenger. A Lodi messenger, Dean.”

  Dean looked in the case. “Folders. Files. Charts.”

  “Medical findings but they are raw,” Ellen said. “They were sent by a Dr. Lars Rayburn.”

  “Rayburn. Rayburn. Why do I know that name?”

  “I did too,” Ellen said. “Television maybe?”

  Dean shrugged. “Who knows? He can’t be all that important, can he?”

  “He found this.” She handed him the file. “As I said, they’re raw. These are old, old mimeograph copies of scan and x-ray images. I can see what he’s talking about, now Joe wants you to back it up. Actually, he wants you to back up my decision to run our own test to confirm the diagnosis.”

  Dean looked at the scan. “Tumor. Cystic.” He tilted his head. “Hard to tell. Patient info, work up, and history in here?”

  “Everything, including what led Dr. Rayburn to this conclusion.”

  “So why so secretive?” Dean asked.

  Ellen pointed to the chart. “Look at the name.”

  “Oh man.” Dean saw. “This is more complicated than just a brain tumor.”

  Ellen nodded in agreement. “Tell me about. You don’t know how complicated this is.”

  ^^^^

  From what he would call a typically bland breakfast, Elliott glanced up in surprised. “Captain?”

  An exhausted Hal walked across the Mess Hall and sat down with his coffee. “Elliott.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  At first Hal paused as if that was a ridiculous question. “Here, in the mess? I am getting coffee. New Bowman is my town. I lead this town. Why wouldn’t I be here?”

  “That was quick in Beginnings.”

  “Yes.”

  “Isn’t Ellen joining us for breakfast?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Ellen is here,” Hal stated.

  “No, she isn’t.”

  “Ok, argue semantics with me. She’s not in the mess, but she’s in New Bowman.”

  “No . . . she isn’t.”

  “Elliott.” Hal stayed firm. “I was told she came back.”

  “Not to my knowledge.’

  “Perhaps she is at the clinic.”

  Elliott shook his head. “Did you forget her?”

  “No!” Hal barked. “I didn’t forget her. My brother Frank told . . .” Hal’s head dropped and he whined. “Uh, and I believed him.” Perturbed, he whipped out the phone and dialed. “Wait until I get him. Yes. Frank.”

  “Yes, Hal,” Frank responded.

  “Ellen is not here.”

  “Where are you calling from?”

  “I’m in the mess hall.”

  “Maybe she’s not hungry.”

  “Not the Hall, Frank. New Bowman. She’s not in New Bowman, you goof.”

  “She’s not in Beginnings.”

  “She has to be.”

  “Hal, I know,” Frank insisted. “She called me. I just talked to her.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Not many women call me, Hal. I know Ellen.”

  “I mean, are you sure she’s not in Beginnings.”

  “Hal, I would know.”

  “You would. Ok. Thanks.” Hal disconnected the call and looked at Elliott. “He says she’s here.”

  “I didn’t see her.”

  With a ‘hmm’, Hal tapped the phone to his chin. Ellen had to be around. She had to be. Hal would just have to look. He wasn’t going to get concerned . . . not yet.

  ^^^^

  The meal, titled ‘Humble Bread’, wasn’t all that bad. Jess put a mental note in his mind to introduce the concept to Beginnings when and if he ever returned. A thick slice of sweet bread, baked with vegetables and other unrecognizable things, tasted pretty good. Then again, it could have been that the early afternoon lunch served to the soldiers was the first meal Jess had eaten all day. Aside from the fact that his mind was buzzing, his stomach was still flip-flopping from all the drinking.

  The screeching halt of the Jeep didn’t help and Jess, with his hand on his stomach, gave a smile of thanks to the driver and disembarked. He raised his hand high in a wave at James.

  Upon seeing him, Jess’s stomach actually fluttered. From a distance, James looked like Hal with short hair. Then again, it could have been Jess’s imagination.

  He had a route to take with James. He would try to get him to talk, test the waters, and see if he passed the Slagel authenticity test. Jess would see if he could determine whether or not James was Jimmy.

  “How’d it go?” James asked with a smile.


  “Well . . .” Jess shrugged. “Just interviews today.”

  “You look pale. Was it the Humble Bread?”

  “No, the driver.” Jess walked with James.

  “Good. I was gonna get upset if it was the Humble Bread. That was my idea.”

  “Really?” Jess slowed down. “That’s a pretty cool concept.”

  “The idea is to have all the goodies of a meal in a sandwich form that fits neatly in your hand. Nutrients. With a thick slice, the dough fills your gut, the other junk gives flavor and the protein.”

  Impressed, Jess nodded. “Various flavors?”

  “You can say that.”

  “Good job,” Jess complimented. “How did you ever think of that?”

  “I didn’t really. To confess, when I was kid, a teenager, we had this babysitter, or nanny, and she thought of it. She fed it to us and we loved it.”

  Shit. Jess thought. He knew of the babysitter. Come on, James, what was her name. Say it. It was a minor detail but a true Slagel would know. “Really?” Jess asked. “You had a babysitter when you were a teenager?” he snickered. “Was she tough?”

  “She had to be, right? I was a teenager.” James smiled.

  “You remember her well?”

  “Very well,” James answered. “So, how did it go on your search?”

  “I was just asking around, trying to pick brains. Maybe, you know, see who is on this side, so who isn’t.”

  “Are you looking for answers to the defector camp?”

  “Yep.”

  James laughed.

  “What? What is so funny?”

  “Nothing.” James shook his head. “I just think that this kid is sending Hadley on a rat race. He’s gone. Left. Ran away.”

  “Do you know him?”

  “Nope and I don’t care to. I think I would suspect if there were trouble in my division, but you can keep looking. You can stay down here with us as much as you like.”

  “My gut says I’m on the right course,” Jess defended, knowing full well he was lying. “I follow my gut. I . . . take after my father.”

  “I follow my gut too but I take after my mother.”

  A big ‘huh’ flew through Jess’s mind. A Slagel man not claiming to take after their father? “You look like your mother?”

  “No, I look like my Dad and act like my mother and . . . shit.” James looked at his watch. “I have to go. Finish up and join us on the beach.” He trudged ahead. “We’re building trenches.”