Blink of an Eye: Beginnings Series Book 8

by Jacqueline Druga

  “You took them on.”

  “Henry, I dropped my bike and snuck up on them when they were ... when they ... I snuck up on them.”

  “But what if you were in my position? Answer me honestly. Would you have ...” Henry paused to catch his emotional breath. “Would you have been brought down? Would they have gotten to that point with you that they got with me?”

  “You mean at the point when I arrived?”

  “What did you see at that point, Frank?”

  “I saw my friend in trouble.”

  “Oh God.” Henry covered his face.

  “Henry.” Frank grabbed his hands and lowered them. “Come on.”

  “You didn’t answer my question. Would you have been in my position or would you have gotten out of it?”

  Despite what Frank believed, despite what he himself was confident of, he was being asked—in a roundabout way—to make his friend feel better. “Honestly?”

  “Please.”

  “I would have been in the same position as you with ten men taking me by surprise. I’m good, Henry. I’m not that good.”

  “Really, Frank?”

  “Fuck yeah. There’s only one thing that may have stopped them from taking it too far.”

  “What’s that, your anger?”

  “No way.” Frank shook his head. “One look at my big hairy ass and I would have been dropped.” Frank started laughing when he heard Henry laugh.

  “You’re a good friend, Frank.”

  “Yeah I know.” He snickered then drew Henry’s attention to his left. “Look.”

  Henry shifted his eyes, saw Ellen, then looked straight ahead again.

  “Hi, Henry.” Ellen approached them. “Frank, what the hell are you doing?”

  “What?”

  “You left the house over an hour ago to check on something. I got the kids in bed. I can’t believe you left me there doing the mother-thing. Go home.”

  “Who’s with them now?” Frank asked.

  “Josh, but he’s going out with Denny.”

  “To do what?”

  “Hang out,” Ellen snapped. “Go home.” She waved her hand but Frank didn’t budge. Ellen shifted her eyes toward Henry. “Frank, do I need to be direct about this?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Asshole.” She shook her head. “Could you let me speak to Henry?”

  “Sure.”

  “Alone.”

  “Oh.” Frank stood up immediately. “Sure. I’ll call you in a little bit. Wanna come back over.”

  Ellen shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ll see.”

  “Don’t play hard to get, El ... I may have to take you seriously and never hit on you again.”

  “Oh that’s a threat.” She rolled her eyes and twitched her head.

  “I’m going.” Frank gave a pat to Henry as he walked by.

  Ellen watched Frank disappear down the street, waited that extra second to make sure he wasn’t hiding around the building eavesdropping, then she looked down to a very silent Henry. “Dean’s not home. He’s working late on the virus. Geez, Henry, he’s so engrossed in this seeing thing since you gave him back his sight.” She took a breath. “Anyhow, wanna go to the house and we can divide up our work hour winnings?”

  “No, you can have them.”

  “Henry, can I be honest? You’re not yourself and I was wondering if you needed to talk.”

  “No, El. Right now, I just need some time alone.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Henry nodded and stood. “Thank you though. I just ... I just need to distance myself from everyone for a little ...”

  “I understand. Thought I’d offer.” Ellen nodded, gave a sad smile and turned.

  Henry watched her go into her house and he heard the shutting of her door. He knew there was no way he could truly face Ellen until he faced his problems fully himself. When he did that, he promised himself he would try again to get in her good graces. Until then, Henry would be as he was for a very long time ... alone.

  <><><><>

  No sooner had Frank walked into his house when his cellular phone began to ring. First listening for it then searching out the ring, he found the phone on the dining room table. “Yeah.” He answered it in his suave Frank-way.

  “What are you doing?”

  “El?” Frank walked into the living room, holding the phone wedged between his shoulder and his ear. “I thought you’d be talking to Henry.”

  “He didn’t want to talk, he just wanted to be alone.”

  “OK.” Frank undid his shoulder harness and draped it over the chair. “Is he alright?” He sat down.

  “Apparently not, Frank. What are you doing right now?”

  “Talking to you.”

  “I was wondering if ...”

  “Yes.”

  Ellen’s giggled carried over the phone. “I didn’t say it.”

  “You want to come over. Please.” Frank leaned forward. “Come over. Josh ran out as soon as I walked in.” He smiled. “I’d like very much if you hung out.”

  “I’ll be over as soon as I take my shower.”

  “Thanks, El.” Hearing her hang up, Frank bit his bottom lip and tapped the phone to his chin. Realizing he didn’t shut the phone off, he reached down for the button. It was then Frank’s finger shook so badly he could barely press it.

  He stared in debate at his hands, at that phone, and then he looked at his watch. Wringing his hands together as he sat in the chair, Frank decided one drink would not hurt. Setting down the phone on the coffee table, he stood up and went into the kitchen.

  He opened the cabinet above the stove, staring at his bottle, reaching for it, pulling back, and then finally bringing it down. Grabbing a glass, he poured a small amount into the glass and opened the fridge for some ice. He swished the ice around, cooling the moonshine.

  As he brought the glass to his lips, ready to take that first drink, he paused when he heard the tiny voice in the living room.

  “Da-da. Da-da.”

  Frank smiled in amazement at how Brian was climbing from his crib already. “OK. Bri.” Pulling the glass from his mouth to set it down, his hand gripped it so hard it shattered in his hand when he heard Brian again.

  “Da-da. Gun.”

  Bang! ... Silence.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  With her head bent down toward her knees as she brushed out her towel dried hair, Ellen screamed when suddenly a set of feet appeared right in her vision. She jumped back, flinging her hair back and grabbed her chest. “Henry.”

  “El ...”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to get you.” He stepped to her. “We couldn’t reach you on the phone. Come with me. We have to get to the clinic, El.”

  “What happened?”

  “Brian crawled from bed. He ... he got a hold of Frank’s gun. It went off.” Henry swallowed. “Brian’s been shot.”

  Ellen’s hand sprang to her mouth in an out of breath gasp and raced toward the door, slipping on her shoes as she did. “How is he?”

  “I don’t know anything yet.” Henry followed her.

  “Did someone call Dean?”

  “He’s on his way.”

  With her entire insides shaking, Ellen felt like she had just slipped into a nightmare and she ran as fast as she could to the clinic.

  She barreled through the front doors of the clinic at full speed with Henry right behind her. As soon as Ellen made it into the hall, she saw Joe. “Joe!” She raced up to him. “How is he?”

  “He’s in the operating room now.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “Ellen.” Joe pulled her into him. “He’s alive. That’s what counts right now. He’s alive.”

  “Dean!” Ellen stepped back when Dean came charging into the clinic. “Dean.” She ran up to him.

  “Where is he?” Dean asked, laying his hands on Ellen’s shoulders.

  “He’s in the back. I’m scared, Dean. You have to find out what’s going
on. Please,” she said through her anguish.

  “I will. I will.” He started to move. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” Placing both hands on her face, Dean kissed her. “He’ll be all right.” Before running down the hall he gave her a quick embrace then took off.

  Ellen folded her arms tightly to her body, holding back the tears that were coming anyway, and she turned back to Joe. When she did, she saw Frank in the waiting room. He sat on the sofa, leaned forward, face buried in his hands, Robbie on one side, and Johnny standing on the other. Slowly she walked into the waiting room and up to him. “Frank,” she called his name out softly.

  Through his rocking back and forth he lifted his head. “I’m so sorry, El.”

  “What happened?”

  “He got a hold of my gun.”

  “How? Ellen sat on the coffee table across from him.

  “It was over the chair. I thought he was in bed.”

  “Why, Frank, why wasn’t the safety on?”

  “I don’t know.” Frank shook his head with emotion filled words. “I just don’t know. It’s all my fault.”

  “Well you’re not getting an argument from me there.”

  Robbie’s strong, warning ‘El’ didn’t even faze her.

  “Answer me this, Frank. Were you drinking?”

  Frank slid his hands down some from his face.

  “Answer me.”

  His eyes only met hers

  “Answer me!” Ellen screamed her loudest.

  “I ... I was getting a drink when ...”

  “No!” Ellen sprang up from her seat on that table so hard it flung the table on its side. “You son of a bitch!” She blasted her angry words at him. And Frank sat quietly listening, taking it all in, without any argument. “Our son is shot all because you found it more important to drink than to worry about your gun lying around? Look at you.” Her hand flung out. “Look at you! You sit here worried, you’re sick about this. You’re apologizing when you have no right. No right! To feel sorry! None! You’re pathetic, Frank. You have been asked to quit drinking. You have been told to quit. You have lied about it. And now you have proved to me where your priorities lie. Our son has been shot.” Ellen placed her face close to him as she nailed him with her sharp words. “Shot! You have just lost every right you ever had to call yourself a father. You are not fit to call yourself a father. From this moment on, the kids are with me. I don’t want you around them. I don’t want you near them.” She stood up and stepped back. “When you go home tonight, you will go home to an empty house then you can leave your gun wherever you like. You can drink your alcohol whenever you like and you don’t have to worry about putting anyone in danger but yourself. You know what, Frank? Right now, I don’t give a fuck if you even do that.”

  Frank’s head began to drop into his hands but he stopped when he heard Dean.

  “El.” Dean stood in the waiting room. His eyes kept shifting back to Frank.

  “Dean.” Ellen stood before him. “Tell me.”

  “It’s not as bad as we thought.” Dean saw her shoulders drop. “He’ll be fine. He has some burns on his fingers, and they’ll be fine. The only thing is he’s lost the top portion of his little finger.” Dean gripped on to Ellen. “This isn’t bad, really since he’s so small. It won’t make a difference to him.”

  “Thank you.” She wrapped her arms tightly around Dean. “Can I see him?”

  “They’ll be bringing him into recovery in a few minutes.” Dean released the embrace. “Andrea agreed that we can take him home tonight. Between you and me, we can keep a pretty good eye on him.”

  “I’m heading down there.” As she moved away from Dean, she saw Frank standing up. “No!” she yelled to him. “I don’t want you anywhere near him. You did this to him. You did this.” With her last words, Ellen spun around and raced from the waiting room.

  It was too quiet in the waiting room for Frank. He looked around at the faces in the room as if waiting for all of them to take their turn at him. With a heavy feeling in his chest he stepped to Dean. “Give Brian a kiss for me.”

  “Frank,” Dean called to him as he started to leave, “he’s your son too. If you want to wait and see him, you wait and see him.”

  “No.” Frank shook his head with closed eyes. “I’m gonna go home and uh ... I’m gonna get Robbie and Henry to help me bring the kids to your house tonight.”

  “Frank.”

  “No, Dean, she’s right. I don’t deserve to be around them. I don’t. What happened tonight was all my fault. I might as well have put the gun in my hand and shot him myself.”

  “Just tell me this, Frank,” Dean spoke without accusation. He spoke calmly. “Were you drinking when it happened?”

  “I hadn’t had a drink all night.” Frank shook his head. “I had just ... just poured one. But still, I guess that’s where my mind was.” He took another step toward Henry and Robbie. “Just know something, Dean, I would never, never do anything deliberately to put any of my kids in danger, never. They’re my life. I’m so sorry that this happened.” Before giving Dean a chance to say more, Frank walked solemnly from the waiting room, leaving behind a strong air of guilt.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  AUGUST 9

  Frank stood outside of Beginnings, thirty or so feet from where the mouth of the tunnels opened up. He stood before a wooden hatch, one of four ‘Pits’ dug by Robbie and him to store supplies in the event of evacuation from Beginnings. The three of them stood close and hidden under the brush that was their camouflage. Frank stared into the fourth, the one Beginnings didn’t fill. With a silent, stony face, he slammed the hatch closed, covered it back up, and headed to the tunnel. “This is Frank. I’m coming back in.”

  “You are doing nicely, Danny Hoi.” Ellen lowered his shirt over his arrow wound. “I heard they’re letting you out in a few days.”

  “Yes and I can’t wait.” Danny grunted as he lifted himself more to sit. “I can only do so much in here. I started putting the insides together for the video monitor but Andrea said I am not allowed to plug it in.”

  “Andrea is nuts.” Ellen sat on the edge of the bed.

  “How’s Brian?”

  “Acting as if nothing happened. I wish I could say the same thing. I think I’ll have a hard time getting over this one.”

  “Accidents ... accidents happen, El. You know that. You can’t blame yourself.”

  “Oh I don’t.” She shook her head. “I blame Frank.”

  Henry’s soft, “You shouldn’t.” was his announcement into the room.

  Ellen stood straight up from the bed. “I’ll see you, Danny. I have to go relieve Dean so he can get to the lab. I’ll check back.” She started to leave.

  “El.” Henry stopped her. “Frank is blaming himself enough. Please just take a second to think about what you are ...”

  “Don’t.” Ellen pulled from him. “Don’t talk to me. I’m pissed at you, Henry, for jumping to his defense. That was my son who was shot last night.”

  “And it was my son who you took from a man who is a very good father to him. You had time to calm down, now return Nick to Frank.”

  “I will do no such thing,” Ellen snapped back.

  “You will. I’ll fight you on this one, El. He’s my best friend. He’s down, he’s hurting, and I won’t make that worse. He needs Nick with him.”

  “You need to stay out of this.” She stormed into the hall.

  “Me?” Henry followed her. “Nick is my son.” He chased her down, stopping her.

  “You have no rights to Nick. You don’t raise him.”

  “Neither do you.”

  “There’s a fine line, Henry ...” Ellen moved from him, “and you just crossed it. Fight me on it. Go ahead. You’ll lose.”

  Henry stood near Danny’s doorway and watched Ellen leave. He stayed there until Danny called for him. Waiting a moment to calm down, he went inside. “Yes, Danny?”

  “You brought up some very good points.”

>   “Thank you.”

  “Wanna know where you went wrong?”

  Henry swayed his head to Danny. “You’re gonna tell me aren’t you.”

  “Oh sure. One word, it’s a simple little word, Henry ... tact.”

  <><><><>

  “Watch Brian around the other kids,” Dean instructed Ellen as he gathered up his folders. “He keeps hitting them with his cast.”

  Holding Brian, Ellen looked around the messy house. “Had a hard day, Dean?”

  “You could say that, El. We now have seven people living in a house for four.”

  “I spoke to Joe about that.”

  “About finally moving me into a bigger house?”

  “Yep, you’re next on the list.”

  “But the houses won’t be ready for a while, especially at the rate they’re building them.”

  “Oh I know.” Ellen followed him around. “I talked to him about kicking Frank out of the three bedroom and giving it to ...”

  “That’s wrong.”

  “That’s what Joe said. I thought he was just being biased towards his son. What do you think?”

  “It was a wrong thing to ask. And ...” Dean kissed her on the cheek. “I have to go.”

  “Dinner?”

  “What about it?”

  “Will you be home?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Dean,” Ellen bitched. “Come on. What the hell? You may be able to see now, but I never see you. Take an hour and come home for dinner. No wait, do what you can only do at the lab and stay home tonight.”

  Dean’s mouth dropped open. “Why are you bitching at me?”

  “You haven’t been home.”

  “I have a virus to beat, El.”

  “You have a family to be with, Dean.”

  “Oh my God.” Dean checked out his folders. “Where is the DNA exchange charts?”

  “Right where you left them.”

  “And where’s that?” Dean asked.

  “On the counter in the kitchen. You were looking at them this morning when you were making your toast. Of course, if you would have cleaned up the kitchen, you would have seen them.”