“Yes we do.” Mike argued.
“Yeah, right. “ Tigger laughed. “I’ll be back.”
“Bring Johnny down,” Mike ordered as Tigger raced off. “I’m sorry about that. Wanna go finish our coffee?”
“Only if you stop apologizing. It’s unnerving.” Ellen headed to the dining room.
“I’m sorry.”
“Mike.”
With a hunch, an embarrassed Mike said no more and followed Ellen.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Amazed perhaps, astonished, whatever it would be to describe Hal’s reaction, his voice reflected it. “My God,” he soothed out. “Frank? This is humble bread.”
“It’s still warm, too.” Frank winked.
“I can see that.” Hal looked at the thick slice. Not only could he smell the warmth and goodness, he could see the steam as it mixed with the cooler air outside. On two flip open chairs, he and Frank sat before the Jeep in Section Thirty-two. “This is amazing.”
“Isn’t it?” Frank poured him a cup of coffee from the thermos.
“Thank you. I haven’t seen or had humble bread since Sgt. Pletcher.”
“I know.”
“Did you make this?”
Frank chuckled. He took one last hit of his cigarette before tossing it outward. “No. I wanted to, so I went to Andrea. I described it to her and check it out. She made it.”
“Do you remember how Jimmy tried to make it?” Hal asked with a smile.
“Oh my God.” Frank laughed “He bought the ready-made dough and just poked holes in it and put the stuff in it.”
“We ate it.”
“Dad got sick.”
“But he never told Jimmy.” Frank broke a piece of the bread and ate it. He paused in his chewing. “Hal, this is fuckin awesome.”
Hal tried it. “Almost as good as Sgt. Pletcher’s.”
“Can you believe we bitched and bitched about it?”
“Now we crave it in our adulthood,” Hal reminisced. “What made you crave it, Frank? What made you bring it up?”
“I was thinking of, you know, family and I thought of it. When Andrea told me she made it, I had to call you and surprise you.”
“This is . . .” Hal smiled peacefully. “This is nice. Thanks.”
“Yeah and I also wanted to have lunch with you.”
“Really? Why?”
“To share my humble bread.”
“So you bring me up here to do so.”
“I love it up here,” Frank stated. “It’s got a good feel.”
“Yes it does.”
“It’s the killer baby region.”
Hal looked at him. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“Nope. Listen.” Frank cleared his throat then, projecting loudly, he sang. “So now I come to you . . .”
A slight pause, then un-interpretable meshed gurgling voices responded with what sounded like ‘with open arms.’
Frank grinned.
“That is . . . that is not right and neither is this. You bring me up here with monstrous killer children.”
“Hal, please,” Frank scoffed. “They fuckin love me.”
“That’s true.”
“I’m their God.”
“St. Francis.”
Frank gave a tilt of his head with chuckle and ate his bread.
“So you bring me here, feed me bread, enjoy a peacefulness with the . . . killer babies, all to just have lunch with me, your brother.”
“Yep. And bond.”
“Uh-ha.” Hal nodded. “Bull.”
“What?” Frank said, so offended.
“Frank, I know you.”
“You should. I’m your brother.”
“No,” Hal said, aggravated. “I know you. You hate me.”
“I do not.” Frank defended. “I love you.”
“I’ll give you that, but you don’t like me.”
“I’ll give you that.”
“So what are you up to?” Hal asked.
“When?”
“Now.”
“I’m having lunch with you.”
“Exactly.”
“If you knew, why’d you ask?”
Hal growled then calmed himself down. “Frank, you call me in Bowman. You ask me to join you and said you wanted to see me. I thought you needed to talk and figuring I’d rather talk in the day than at night when your nocturnal juices kick in to high gear, I come. You bring me all the way up here. I’m sorry. I don’t buy it’s just to have lunch. What’s up?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Hal softly huffed. “Something is bothering you. What?”
“Nothing.”
“Frank, you don’t bother me just to be with me. You have to have a reason. I don’t buy it.”
“Hal, I don’t . . .”
It was weird and it caused Frank to rub his ear. It even stunned Hal. Just as Hal spoke Frank’s name to interrupt him, another call of Frank’s name was made.
Open. Shut. Hal moved his mouth.
Frank raised an eyebrow. “Do that again.”
“That was weird. It had a doubling effect.”
“It did.”
“I thought it was my imagination.”
“No. Try it again.”
Hal shrugged. “Frank.”
“Frank.”
“Whoa. Fuck,” Frank said.
Hal shook his head with a smile and disbelief at himself. “Dad.”
Frank blinked. “It doesn’t work when you say Dad’s name, only mine.”
“No, Frank. It’s Dad.” Hal pointed behind them.
Frank looked then did a double take when Joe walked through the open perimeter fence. “Dad.”
Joe approached the Jeep.
“Hey, Dad. Did you hear Hal’s voice do that weird thing?”
“Um, yeah.” Joe nodded. “Strange. Anyhow, wanted to let you boys know. Robbie and Ellen arrived safely in Lodi.”
Frank turned all the way around. “They called.”
“Yes.” Joe nodded as he walked with hands in his coat pockets.
“What of the town?” Hal asked. “Is everything all right there?”
Joe shrugged. “I don’t know. They haven’t called back yet. I’m going another half hour then I’m calling them. I just need to know that the people there are Okay too. I just need . . . I need to know.”
“People or person?” Hal questioned.
Joe looked for a second then his eyes lit up. “Dear God, is that humble bread?”
Hal extended his slice to Joe. “Yes, it’s wonderful. We’re having a little winter, killer baby picnic for no reason. Brother bonding.”
“Is that so?” Joe asked and took a bite. “Christ. This is good.”
“Dad,” Frank said brightly. “Andrea made this. We should get her to make some for us when we go on vacation.”
“Not a bad idea, Frank. Once in a while you come up with some good ones.”
“Thanks,” Frank said with a blush. “Wanna have lunch with us?”
“Um, nah. It’s brother bonding. I don’t want to intrude.”
“What?” Hal snickered. “Please. You? Besides it’s not brother bonding. It’s . . . family bonding. Frank’s mutant offspring have been singing for us.”
“Journey,” Frank added.
“Well then, in that case.” Joe hopped up on the hood of the Jeep. “Pour me a cup of coffee and I’m in. Frank, is there any chance I can get you to get them to sing that ‘Lights’ song?”
“Absolutely.” Frank handed Joe the coffee he poured then stood up. He cleared his throat then loudly, and in what Frank thought was his best singing voice, started a Journey song.
Hal lifted his cup to Joe when the choir of killer babies joined in with Frank. “Entertainment at its best.”
“Yep. You may have coffee houses, saloons, movies, and so forth, but only in Beginnings . . .” Joe nodded with a smile. “Do you have Frank.”
^^^^
Her hands that didn’t s
how her age, dark skinned with well manicured fingernails that had a hint of Danny-Peach polish, gripped and tapped the white lab coat as she stood, arms crossed, staring into the clinic lab.
This is a sane man? Andrea thought. While in her office, she received a call that Dean was on his way in the clinic. She was so thrilled that he was released from the Beginnings equivalent of a mental institution. So happy, she flew from her office to greet him but she stopped short of saying anything because she couldn’t stop watching his bizarre ritual.
He greeted every single piece of equipment in his lab, not just looking at them, but speaking to them as well which would not have been so odd had Dean not given them endearing names. Even something like calling the computer ‘sweetie’ and the centrifuge, ‘baby’, would have been all right if Dean didn’t follow it up with a kiss.
Was he just glad to be back or was it more? Andrea wondered. Really, Dean wasn’t supposed to be out of Containment for another few days.
“Knock. Knock,” Andrea sang out and placed on a pleasant face.
From the far back counter, Dean spun with a grin. “Hey! I’m back.”
“I see.”
“Come in.”
“Thank you.” Andrea walked in. “I noticed you getting reacquainted.”
“My sanity,” Dean said.
“Dean? Do you think kissing your lab equipment is sane?”
Dean chuckled. “Trust me. It’s a lot more sane than wanting to touch Josephine’s feet.”
Andrea cringed.
“Exactly.” Dean pointed. “And it’s a lot more sane than playing freeze tag. Which . . . wait until you see my newest invention.”
“You’re inventing now?”
“I have to get Danny Hoi to help, but I figured as long as I promise to give it a derivative of his name, he’ll do it.’
“What are you inventing?” Andrea asked.
“A freeze tag gun.”
“What?”
“For freeze tag. That way, instead of people pretending to be frozen, they will be.” Dean grinned wide. “Great huh?”
“Oh swell. I can see Frank with that.”
“No, no. It’s only for Containment residents.”
“Hmm. Better yet.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“You seem very happy.”
“Oh, I am,” Dean said. “I am. I missed it here. I missed the clinic. I know as long as Ellen is out of touch for a few days, Frank said I can stay at the house. I’m in a good mood, but surprisingly I’m not swamped with clinic work.”
“We weren’t expecting you out, yet.”
Dean shrugged. “I got better thanks to Frank.”
“Frank?”
“He did the therapy.”
“Sweet Jesus! You let that man in your mind?”
“It worked.”
“Did it?” Andrea raised an eyebrow.
“Try me.”
“Misha.”
“What about her?”
“She’s wonderful,” Andrea tested Dean.
“She sucks,” Dean said smugly.
“Hmm,” Andrea thought for a moment. “Josephine. She is looking for some physical attention.”
“Isn’t she always?”
“She wants you.”
“Don’t make me puke.”
Andrea smiled. “Oh, Dean.” She hurried to him. “You’re cured.” She hugged him.
“I told you.”
“I’m so glad.” Andrea released the embrace. “I really am. You know, I realize you missed it here but I was wondering, now that you are better, can you give us a hand?”
“Absolutely,” Dean answered. “With what?”
“Jason has surgery. I have pap smears. I need a doctor to do running around, field work.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“Sure. Let me get my bag.”
“I’ll make a list of stops. There are a few men under the weather at Sgt. Doyle’s camp.”
“Not a problem.”
“Good.” Andrea walked toward the door. “I requisitioned you a Jeep. At least with your mind back to normal, Bowman is now a safe stop.”
“As long as that asshole Hal doesn’t speak to me. He’s on my shit list.”
Andrea froze at the door and turned around. She was about to say that she thought Dean was cured, but she didn’t. It was Hal. Taking comfort in the fact that Hal was a big boy and could handle himself, Andrea went to prepare Dean’s day.
^^^^
A slight snicker swept across Tigger’s face in response to Mike’s order of, “Tigger, your turn to clear the table’. However, he hid it well and cleared his throat of the chuckle before responding. “Yes, Father, I’ll clear the table.” Tigger began to pick up dishes. “Jeepers, I forgot it was my turn.”
Mike grumbled and folded his hands on the table, watching his son take the lunch dishes.
“Father,” Tigger spoke. “Isn’t it Johnny’s turn to do the dishes though?”
Aggravated, Mike snapped a point at Tigger. “Just take them in the goddamn kitchen.”
Ellen turned to Mike. “Lunch was great.”
Johnny agreed. “Yeah, Mike, it was, but what was up with it?”
“With what?” Mike asked.
“Lunch,” Johnny responded.
“What about it?” Mike asked.
“It was new.”
“Yeah,” Mike covered. “A new recipe.”
“No,” Johnny snickered. “A new idea.”
“Idea. Recipe.” Mike flung out his hand. “Same difference.”
Ellen nearly choked on her coffee.
Quickly, Mike looked at her. “You Okay?
“Yes.” Ellen nodded. “That just sounds like a Frank thing to say.”
Tigger returned. “That’s odd. Now, Frank is who to you?” He asked Ellen.
“My former husband,” Ellen answered.
Tigger nodded. “Weird. You compare my dad to your former husband, and he compares you . ..”
“Tig,” Mike silenced him. “Sit.”
Tigger barked like a dog once then sat down.
Ellen giggled.
“Mike?” Johnny questioned. “Can we get back to the lunch topic?”
“No,” Mike replied. “Ellen has to get to the clinic.”
“But it was odd. I don’t recall ever having lunch, but you’re acting like . . .”
“John,” Mike tried to shut him up.
Tigger gave his help. “Johnny, of course we have lunch, every day like clockwork. Maybe you just don’t remember. It’s probably that selective amnesia thing you have happening. You probably don’t remember that my dad also sets his hair in rollers, puts on a hair net, fixes dinner, takes them off, and runs out the back door all so he can run in the front door to yell, ‘honey I’m home.’”
Mike crinkled his face at Tigger. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Language.” Tigger pointed to Ellen.
Mike’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” Ellen lifted her hand. “I’m used to it. I hang around Frank.”
Tigger smiled. ‘There goes the comparison again. Is my father like Frank?”
Johnny didn’t give Ellen a chance to answer. He spoke up about Frank in another way. “El, how . . . how is my father?”
“He’s doing fine” Ellen responded. “He’s drinking again.”
Johnny nodded. “I didn’t help when I was back there. I remember bits and pieces, but I remember getting him to drink again.”
Tigger looked at Johnny. “Don’t mention that one to Lars. He’ll add that to the list he’s compiled about you.”
Mike’s hand slammed on the table. “Tig, don’t you have something to do?”
“No.” Tigger shrugged. “It’s family reflection time. We always do that after lunch. Oh.” He snapped a finger. “Hey. Drinking. That’s another thing you and Frank have in common.”
Mike grumbled.
Ellen spoke, “I
t’s not all you, Johnny. He got worse when I was kicked out of Beginnings.”
This puzzled Mike. “Beginnings kicked you out?”
Ellen nodded. “I’ll share that later.”
Mike was shocked. “Beginnings kicked you out of your home? You’re a woman.”
“Robbie went with me,” Ellen answered.
“They kicked Robbie out too?” Mike asked.
“No.” Ellen shook her head. “He went with me voluntarily until my sentence was up and I could come home.”
“Sentence?”
Ellen cringed. “Details later. You can say I had a mishap with a gun.”
Tigger gasped, but it was more of a laugh. “You shot someone? Oh shit. Is it a family thing?”
“Tig!” Mike yelled.
“Speaking of shooting,” Johnny said, “I know I shot my father.”
Tigger added, “Twice mind you. But hey! Another Frank slash Mike in common thing. Dad you were shot twice by Buzz, too.”
“In the goddamn foot, asshole!”Mike snapped. “Now quiet.”
Tigger pretended to zip close his mouth.
Johnny returned to asking Ellen, “Is he okay?”
Ellen nodded. “He’s recovered. You know your dad. It was touch and go but . . . Johnny.” A hint of excitement crept into Ellen’s voice. “Check this out. The injuries were bad. really bad.”
Tigger looked curious as he saw the smile on Ellen’s face. “She’s smiling because his injuries were bad.”
Mike grew more frustrated.
Ellen continued, “They were so bad that Dean feared Frank wouldn’t recover because you know how your dad is. Well, he . . . he tried the . . . “ Ellen grinned. “The Lepusoid.”
“It wasn’t tested,” Johnny stated.
“It worked.” Ellen nodded.
“What?” Mike questioned. “What is Lepusoid?”
Ellen replied, “It’s a healing agent Dean invented that speeds the natural healing process. It’s made from jackrabbits and the killer babies.”
“Whoa.” Mike sat back. “That’s amazing.”
“But that isn’t all,” Ellen said and directed her words to Johnny. “Dean had to dump so much into your Dad’s big body . . .”
Tigger interjected. “Big body, another comparison.”
Ellen continued, “That it mixed with his blood, took over his DNA, and mutated.”
“Holy shit.” Johnny’s eyes widened. “Totally.”
The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20 Page 351
