Blink of an Eye: Beginnings Series Book 8

by Jacqueline Druga

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Frank stumbled into the kitchen after taking his shower, barely standing straight, wiping the chill from his arms as he threw on a sweatshirt. “It feels like it’s twelve o’clock at night,” he spoke to Ellen who stood at the counter. “It’s not even four yet.”

  “It’s a long day.”

  “The longest one of my life.” He saw her fiddling with something. “What are you doing?”

  “I have some medication for you I need you to take.” Ellen walked to him holding out her hand.

  “No.” He shook his head.

  “Frank, please, one is for the pneumonia and the other will help you sleep, you need to sleep and rest. You won’t get well if you ...”

  “No!” Frank snapped at her pushing away her hand. “I don’t care right now.”

  “Well I do.” Ellen grabbed onto his arm spinning him to her. “Enough of that horrible future I saw has come true. Don’t let anymore of it happen.” She grabbed his hand slamming the pills into it. “Now take the goddamn medicine right now, or I swear to you, Frank, I will knock your ass out and shove it down your throat. Take it!” Her hand shook as she covered her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  Frank placed the pills in his mouth and grabbed the glass of water that set there, he took a long drink. “Happy?” He slammed the glass down.

  “Why are you being like this with me? I know you’re hurt. But you won’t speak to me, talk to me, let me help you.”

  Frank slowly swayed his head. Turned to the sink and bent down to the cabinet under it, He began to rummage.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I need a drink.”

  “No you don’t.” Ellen reached for his arm, he pulled it away.

  “I need a drink, El.”

  “Frank.” She grabbed for the bottle.

  “I need something to take away this pain.”

  “Let me help you,” Ellen pleaded.

  “You can’t do it.”

  “Why!”

  “Because you don’t understand the way I feel.”

  “How can I not understand?” Ellen asked emotionally. “And you think taking that drink is going to make it all go away! No, it’ll only come back, Frank. It’ll come back worse. There is no reason for you to drink that.”

  “Bullshit! My son died today!”

  “My son died today too!”

  Frank’s face grew red with anger. “And you ran away! You ran! You couldn’t face it! And right now I can’t face you! You worked hard on this fuckin virus! You saved everybody else. Why, El! Why couldn’t you just save our son!” With a vengeance, Frank swung out the hand that held the bottle smashing it against the refrigerator just above Ellen’s head. Glass and whiskey shot out everywhere.

  Ellen shook as her arms reached up shielding her from the glass that flew about, she backed up into the wall, she wiped the whiskey that splattered across her face and she began to run out.

  “El!” Frank chased her.

  “Leave me alone.”

  “Ellen, please.” Frank dove forward for her, grabbing her arm as she headed toward the door. “Please.” He grabbed onto her, dropping to his knees. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He laid his head against her back.

  Ellen started to cry. “No, you’re right. Why couldn’t I save him, Frank? Why couldn’t I have saved Brian? Why, Frank? Why did I argue with Dean about giving our kids the antiserum? He wanted to give it to them. If we would have done that, Brian would be alive. I might as well have killed him.” She turned around and let his head fall into her stomach. “I’m sorry for taking your son from you. If I could give my life to bring him back. I would.”

  “It’s not your fault, El, and I’ll never forgive myself for saying that to you. Never. I’m so angry and I’m so hurt. And I’m scared. I’m scared that I can’t live with this.” He clung to her. “I keep thinking of our son, where is he now, El. What if he knows he’s alone? What if he’s scared too? What if he’s looking for me? Cause I know I’ll spend the rest of my life looking for him. And he won’t be there.”

  Ellen could feel Frank’s face rubbing back and forth across her stomach.

  “It’s not fair, El. It just not fair. We went through this pain once. Why are we going through this again? Why would God make us go through this again?”

  Ellen didn’t have any answers to give Frank as she held him. How could she? When she herself was asking the exact same questions.

  <><><><>

  It was such a switch of atmosphere for Ellen her head spun. Walking into Dean’s house, and immediately hearing the footsteps above her head. They were coupled with screams and laughs. Ellen smiled, Alexandra and Joey were getting better by the hour. So much at that moment, Ellen wanted to be a child. Because children have a way to escape everything, slip into their own words, sick or not, hurt or not, and forget about it all. She could hear sounds coming from the kitchen, water running, pans moving about. Slowly Ellen walked into there and she saw Dean moving about as if he were hurrying to get dinner on the table. “Hey,” she called out to him. “Henry told me you finally came home.”

  “Yeah.” Dean ran his hand through his hair, stepped to her and kissed her on the cheek. “And I want to get the kids fed. Are you staying for dinner?”

  “I’d like that. Can I help?”

  “No.” Dean faced the stove.

  “Dean, how ...”

  “How’s Frank?” he interrupted.

  “Sleeping.”

  “Good, He needs to sleep to beat this pneumonia.”

  “Dean,” Ellen called to him. Was he too blaming her? Why wouldn’t he turn around? “Are you all right? I came to be with you.”

  “I’m ...” Dean slammed a pan. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you?” Ellen asked wearily. “Because I’m not.”

  Dean shut off the burners, holding on to the sides of the stove and just staring at the wall behind it. “Ellen. I can’t even think right now. I set the high chair, El.”

  Ellen looked behind her to the dining room, Brian’s highchair sat at the corner of the table near Dean’s chair. Brian’s little blue plate sat on the tray.

  “I wasn’t even thinking,” Dean said. “It was automatic. And now I can’t move it. I can’t bring myself to take it away.”

  “Dean.” Ellen walked up to behind him laying her head on his back. “I’m sorry.”

  Dean’s head dropped forward. He spoke slow, his voice deep. “I never thought I would feel this much pain in my entire life. I never thought I would want to just curl up and die somewhere. And I just want to curl up and die right now. And you know what the worst part is, El? I lost my son today. My flesh and my blood died today. My son. And nobody even knows.” Dean’s fist hit onto the counter. “Nobody knows.”

  “I know, Dean.”

  There was sizzle that broke the silence. The sound of Dean’s tear as it rolled down his cheek and hit onto the still hot frying pan. His knees fell forward and his body began to shake as he let go for the first time all day and cried. He turned around suddenly and without letting Ellen see his face, he took her into his arms, pressing his head to hers, and he held her. Feeling her in his arms, his hands moving around, as if reaching for something in Ellen that could take away his pain. But nothing would, and Dean could only hold on to her and cry harder.

  <><><><>

  He had just taken his third pill, and Frank knew that it wouldn’t be long before he fell back to sleep. That was all right to him, he was emotionally drained and sleep would help the day end. He needed the day to end. It was too quiet in his house, Ellen had left for the third time to go see the kids and Dean. Frank understood, why that was, he didn’t know. Just as he reached to turn off the living room light, he heard a knock at his front door. He closed his eyes and shook his head, wishing whoever it was would just go away. But they knocked again. Upset over the intrusion, Frank stormed to the door, flinging it open and seeing Henry standing there.

&nb
sp; “Hi, Frank,” Henry spoke nervously. “I know ... I know this isn’t a good time. But, can I come in?”

  Had Henry not been holding Nick in his arms, Frank would have said ‘no’. He didn’t answer he only opened the door wider. “What’s up, Henry?”

  “It’s Nick. I can’t ... I can’t get him to calm down, Frank. Look at him, he’s fussing.. I think. I think he just wants you.”

  Frank reached out his hands to the whimpering baby, lifting him from Henry and taking him into his arms. The moment Nick touched Frank’s chest was the moment Frank gasped, felt his legs weaken and he had to sit down. He held Nick so tight, the small baby got lost in his arms. He ran his lips over Nick’s head, closing his eyes. “He’s usually sleeping by now. Did you feed him, Henry?”

  “What?”

  From his hold of Nick, Frank raised his eyes. “Feed him. Food?”

  “Um ... I think.”

  “You think?”

  “Well ... yeah, of course I did. I just don’t remember when.”

  “It’s almost midnight, Henry. Was it dark out when you fed him last.”

  “Oh no, Frank. It was still light. I wouldn’t want to feed him too close to his bedtime and have him get a stomachache.”

  “Henry. He’s needs to eat. That’s why he’s still awake.”

  “Oh. OK.” Henry reached for the baby.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’ll take him home and feed him.”

  “No.” Frank held Nick tighter. “Just ... just go home and get me a bottle. I don’t have any fresh ones. I’ll feed him. I want him fed right.”

  “Are you sure, Frank? I don’t want to bother you.”

  “I’m sure, Henry. Go.”

  “Thanks.” Henry darted toward the door.

  “And, Henry?”

  “Yeah, Frank?” Henry opened the door.

  “Thank you. Thank you very much.” Frank didn’t see the smile Henry gave him, he was too engrossed with getting comfortable on the couch. He brought his legs up to the cushion and he just held Nick. And more than he realized, he needed to do that.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  AUGUST 24

  The mounds of dirt were still high and fresh, laying in a row in a part of Beginnings that used to be underdeveloped. Far from the Living Section, they placed it. Beginnings’ first cemetery. There were fifteen graves all together. Nine of them belonged to children. Six adults. Beginnings suffered a loss. The loss of talent and devotion that the adults gave to the community. And the loss of life and laughter that children brought to everyone. Their graves were marked with simple crosses. Wooden crosses. The names of those lost burned in an etch upon them. A fence was erected around the graves, flowers draped over them from the daily visitors that walked out there just for a moment, to feel those they lost. On the fence was a plaque. It simply read:

  For those who lost their lives in the battle for Beginnings.

  May they forever find a resting place within these walls they had called their home.

  Frank read the words, like he did every day since Brian was buried there four days earlier. But was his timing off on this day? He was surprised to see he wasn’t the only one there visiting Brian. And it was the first time since the burial that Frank saw Dean there. Quietly Frank walked up to him as Dean sat on the ground staring at the grave, and he sat on the ground next to Dean.

  Dean moved his hair from his eyes, that the wind had blown. “I’ll leave, Frank.”

  “Why?”

  “I know you want to be alone out here.”

  “That’s OK.” Frank brought this knees up. “I’ve never seen you come out here, Dean.”

  Dean gave a soft chuckle. “I’m here every day, Frank.”

  “Me too.”

  “I know it might make you angry to hear this. But I’m not trying to take anything away from you. I just miss him, Frank. I really miss, Brian.”

  “I miss him too, Dean. And you’re not taking anything away from me.” Frank looked at him, Dean’s head hung low. “I know you loved him. And I would have to be pretty cold to think you’re not feeling this too.”

  “I can’t get passed this. I keep thinking, what could I have done? What could I have changed?”

  “I do the same thing.”

  “I keep thinking we missed something. Something went wrong. We should have been able to save him. We should have had the antidote sooner. A piece is missing, Frank. Something is missing.”

  “Do you feel that?”

  Dean nodded strongly. “Yes. In my gut I feel that. And a part of me is justifying that as a way to put the blame elsewhere. Blame someone else for me not being fast enough. I don’t know.”

  “Were gonna go into our minds for the rest of our lives searching for the answers to this. But maybe, Dean, maybe it was just out of our hands. Maybe those who were supposed to go on, did.”

  “Thinking like that doesn’t make the pain go away.”

  “Oh, I know that.” Frank’s hand reached out to the grave and he lifted the dirt.

  “I’d better be going back. I have to pick up the kids. Thanks for not ... I don’t know, making me leave.”

  “Dean,” Frank called out before Dean stood up. “You and I raised Brian. Don’t think for one second, that I have forgotten that he was just as much your son as he was mine. We made that agreement and I lived by that. And I’m sorry, Dean. I’m sorry you lost your son too.”

  Dean’s heart dropped along with his body and he just couldn’t stand up. “You don’t know how much that means to hear you say that.”

  “I think ... I think you and I have this common ground now, Dean. More than we ever had before. If you have to leave, OK, but right now, it wouldn’t bother me at all if you stayed.”

  Dean stared at Frank for a moment, he reached his hand up laying it on Frank’s hand. And to his surprise Frank brought his other hand up and covered Dean’s. There was an unspoken understanding right there between the two of them, as if to say. It was their spot, their time, and their grief over the loss of their son.

  <><><><>

  Ellen looked up from her desk in Containment to the soft knocking on the door. Such an apprehensive knock it was, Ellen merely called out softly, “Come in.”

  “This may not be a good time.” Jenny walked in. “But I wanted to see you.”

  “What’s up?” Ellen asked, pointing to a chair for Jenny to sit.

  So sadly Jenny took a seat. “I was going through Caroline’s things to return to storage, and I found a few things of Brian’s.”

  Ellen’s head dropped.

  “Those babies were always together, Ellen. And I want to give you Brian’s things back. But a part of me can’t. I can’t remove anything from my house that is a part of Caroline and Brian was a part of Caroline.”

  “I know,” Ellen spoke near whisper. “I can’t even bring myself to look at his things. I can’t go into his room ... look at his toys.”

  “It hurts so much. You know Jenny, it’s odd isn’t it. I was at the cemetery today. And I looked at their graves. Have you looked? Have you noticed?”

  Jenny nodded. “They were born and died on the same day.”

  “Both of them came into this world within minutes of each other and they left this world within minutes of each other. Why do you suppose that is?”

  “I have a story in mind I keep telling myself about that. It helps. Can I share it with you?”

  “Please.”

  “Brian and Caroline were angels. And God knew how much that we needed them in our lives. But see, they were partners up there, little soul mates. And one said, ‘I won’t go without the other’. So God sent them both. At the same time, the same day, because they couldn’t be apart. And when they were called to come home. They couldn’t be apart then either. And maybe only one of them was destined to leave this earth. But the other one said ‘I won’t go without the other’. And they joined their little hands and they’re together again, looking down at us, knowing that t
hey gave us life and meaning, if only for a little while.”

  “And they did their jobs well, didn’t they?”

  “Oh they did their jobs great. And you know what, I made myself a promise. I promised myself that I would not get angry for not having Caroline longer, I would be happy for having her at all.”

  Ellen looked up at Jenny, though the sadness was there, there was a certain peacefulness upon Jenny’s face. And Ellen hoped that she could remember the words that Jenny had just told her. And for as much as Ellen didn’t want to be and feel like Jenny when she saw her in that room holding the daughter she had just lost, Ellen wanted to be and feel like her now.

  <><><><>

  Where was Frank? Henry wondered. If he didn’t hurry he was going to miss it. The first set-up, the finding of George. Henry held Joe off, making him wait until he could locate Frank. And Henry searched, he searched everywhere he thought Frank could be until he finally found him at home.

  “Frank.” Henry walked softly into the child’s bedroom where Frank sat. “We need you in Communications.”

  “I was on my way. I had to change. Oil from the truck.” Frank shrugged as he sat in a chair in front of Brian’s crib, staring in it. “I guess I just got held up.”

  “I understand.” Henry moved to him.

  “Do you?” Frank looked up at him. “Because I don’t even understand it myself. Sometimes I pass this crib and still see him in there. I still smell him, Henry, on his blanket. And nothing is making it go away. I’m not getting any better.”

  “You need more time, Frank.” Henry laid his hand on Frank’s back. “You lost your son.” Henry stepped closer. “Maybe all of this isn’t good for you. Maybe you just need to take some time and step back.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re still hurting and you will for a while. But maybe while the hurt is still so fresh, you need not to look at everything and everywhere that reminds you of Brian.”