The Third Ten

by Jacqueline Druga

  He settled into his desk, had a quick call with George and pulled out a tablet for note taking at the meeting.

  Surprising him, Frank walked right in.

  “You’re here?” Frank asked and closed the door.

  “Uh, yeah, Frank our meeting is in a few minutes. Why didn’t you knock?”

  “I didn’t think you’d be here. You said you were gonna be late.” Frank handed him a cup. “I stopped by the bakery. Gemma said to give this to you.”

  “Ah, thanks.” Joe took it. “I never said I was going to be late.”

  “Yes, you did. You sent a text. See.” Frank held up the phone. “Can you go to the bakery? I need a latte.”

  “What? No.”

  “Yeah, so I went to the bakery, no fucking clue why and Gemma hands me that.”

  “It’s what I wanted.”

  “Wow, she’s good.”

  “No, you ass, I asked for one. I sent you a text about it.”

  “You said nothing about a coffee. Just you wanted a late.”

  “I never said anything about being late.”

  “A huh.” Frank showed him the phone. “I need a late.”

  “Not late. Latte.”

  “I’m polite. I wasn’t pointing out your typos.”

  Joe restrained. “That’s very nice of you Frank. I changed my mind.”

  “About what?”

  “Being late.”

  “Obviously,” Frank said. “You should have taken a late.”

  “Frank.”

  “You’re old. Been up all night and …”

  “Frank!”

  “What!”

  “Sit.”

  “Fine.” Frank pulled out a chair. “Yell at me, why don’t you. So why am I sitting.”

  “We’re waiting for your brothers to start the meeting.”

  “You don’t want to hear what I have?”

  “Yes, but instead of hearing it twice, I’ll wait until they get here.”

  “So what am I supposed to do?”

  “Be quite and wait.”

  “Fine.”

  Joe lifted his coffee, when he did he heard Frank humming the tune of We are the World.”

  “Frank.”

  “What?”

  “Stop.”

  “Stop what?”

  “Humming that song.”

  “I can’t help it,” Frank said. ‘It’s stuck in my head.”

  “Yeah, I wonder why.”

  “I was singing it last night.”

  “I know, Frank the whole community knows.”

  “Yeah, they posted a video on Hoibook. I have over two hundred comments.”

  “Good for you.” Joe said. “Are they still out there singing?”

  “Yep. They said they aren’t stopping until Elliott Walks out.”

  “Christ. It’s been four hours. They’ve been singing the same song for four hours?”

  “Oh, no they changed,” Frank said.

  “Well that’s good.”

  “They’re singing the Spanish version of it.”

  “Frank …”

  Frank started singing, “Some is the moon. Some is the knee as. Some is ...”

  “Stop. It’s somos el mundo, somos el ninos. We are the world, we are the children.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “And some is the moon, does?”

  “More than what you said.”

  “I spoke Spanish,” Joe snapped.

  “Man, you’re good.”

  “I am.”

  “That’s my line.”

  “Tough.” Joe said. “And I thought you said they were doing a new song.”

  “They are. They’re singing it in Spanish.”

  “That’s not a new song, asshole, it’s the same song in another language. And why the hell are they doing the Spanish version.”

  “Dean said. He said if they want Elliott to walk faster maybe they should sing it in Spanish because he’s Mexican.”

  “Elliott is not Mexican.”

  “Okay, then Spanish. Latino. Hector like, same difference.”

  Joe slammed his hand. “No it’s not and Elliott is German.”

  “Dean said …”

  “Dean’s an asshole. Remind me to kick his ass later.”

  “I will.” Frank pulled out a note pad and started to were, talking out every word. “Remind … dad to kick … Dean’s … ass. Ha.”

  There was a knock on the door.

  “Thank God,” Joe said. “Come in.”

  Hal and Robbie both walked in.

  “Boys. You both look tired.” Joe commented.

  “What about me?” Frank asked. “Don’t I look tired?”

  “No. You’re super human,” Joe said.

  “I am.”

  Hal groaned and sat down. “I’d like to get home and get some rest before returning.”

  “No, can do,” Frank said. “We’re on lock down. No one gets in or gets out. It’s not an easy task, but I have to keep everyone inside.”

  “I’m not the shooter. You know that,” Hal defended.

  “But the shooter doesn’t know we know that.” Frank pointed to his temple.

  “As obscure as it sounds, Frank has a point,” Joe said.

  “I want to go home,” Hal said. “But I understand.”

  “Me, too, Hal and I will.” Robbie smiled and put a cloth on the table. “Those are the shells we got from Elliott’s chest. You’ll see they are standard issue. After I rest I want to start questioning everyone.”

  “Good idea,” Joe said. “He was shot three times.”

  “We’re still trying to find the shell that hit and missed his head,” Frank said. “We should be able to locate it now that the sun’s up. We have the area roped off. It looks good.”

  “What about security on Elliott’s room?” Joe asked.

  “I know you said you wanted a couple men from Bowman, but Dad I don’t think we should.” Robbie answered. “The shooter may not be working alone. I have Johnny on the door now. Mark worked last night, so as soon as he is rested he’ll take watch.”

  Joe pointed the pencil at Frank. “You’re still not in the clear, they wanted you dead.”

  Frank scoffed and waved out his hand. “I’m not worried.”

  “You should be,” Joe said. “They set up traps in your office to kill you.”

  “I’m more diligent. And the traps didn’t work,” Frank said.

  “They tried to shoot you,” said Joe.

  “They missed.”

  “Uh!” Hal shrieked. “And hit Elliott.”

  “They... still missed.” Frank said

  “Can I go?” Robbie asked. “I’m really tired and I want to sleep before questioning people.”

  “Yes,” Joe said. “Go.”

  “Why does he get to go?” Frank asked.

  “Because he asked. Do you want to go?”

  “No.”

  “Then shut up,” Joe said. “Robbie don’t forget, good guards. Elliott may not have been the target, but he sure as shit saw the shooter, and is the only one who knows who it is.”

  Just as Robbie grabbed the door knob, Frank said. “No he’s not.”

  Robbie shut the door. “You saw the shooter?”

  “Frank,” Hal snapped. “Why are we wasting time if you saw the shooter?”

  Joe asked. “Did you see the shooter?’

  “No.”

  Everyone groaned.

  “But I read Elliott’s mind, I can do that you know.”

  Robbie and Hal started talking at the same time.

  Joe held up his hand. “Frank, you know who Elliott saw on that roof.”

  “Yep. I know who he thinks he saw. Or he thought about who he saw.” Frank tilted his head. “What would be the correct phrasing …?”

  “Frank!” Joe yelled. “Who is it?”

  “I’m not telling.”

  “What!” Hal blasted. “You aren’t telling?”

  Joe shook his head.
r />   “Father,” Hal said. “Make him tell.”

  “Frank, come one, tell us,” Robbie pleaded.

  “Nope.”

  Hal pointed at him. “You’re an asshole. You don’t know.”

  “I do know and I’m not telling. I only read his mind, until it comes from Elliott’s mouth it isn’t official. How do we know Elliott just wasn’t thinking of this person in a moment of gay passion at the end of his life? He was dying you know.” Frank shrugged. “We don’t know.”

  Joe sighed out. “He has a point.”

  “See.” Frank nodded. “Dad thinks Elliott was having gay last thoughts too.”

  “Frank!” Joe slammed his hand. “No. You’re right about not saying. Besides, I don’t need you to say.” He sat back. “I think I narrowed it down. I know who it is. I just have to figure out the logistics and motive.”

  “And reasoning,” Frank added.

  Everyone groaned.

  “Who?” Robbie asked.

  “Just like Frank has his reasons, I have mine. I could be wrong. Just go on and start questioning. Get some sleep.”

  “Fine.” Robbie opened the door. “I can’t believe you guys aren’t sharing. We’re supposed to be a team. Hal, you wanna crash on my couch. I think Jess made some cookies last night.”

  “Yeah.” Hal stood and walked to the door. “I hope the both of you reconsider sharing this inside information and trust me, its inside.” He left with Robbie.

  Frank also walked to the door and paused. “Dad, was that a trick? Do you have an idea?”

  “Yeah. Well, it’s down to four. Four men weren’t working and they weren’t anywhere near the vigil. Maybe they hate We are the World, maybe not. But they didn’t even check on Elliott.”

  “Makes sense.” Frank stared at his father. “Okay, yeah, he’s one of the four.” Frank turned and walked out.

  Joe grunted. “Quit reading my mind!” Joe shouted. But it was too late, Frank had left. “At least he confirmed it.” He pulled his note book forward, he hadn’t taken a single note. Just as he grabbed the shells, without thinking about it, Joe started humming.

  “Goddamn it,” he shook his head in disgust and stopped immediately when he realized he was humming, We are the World.

  FOUR

  Of everyone, the gathering outside of the clinic seemed to bother Dean the least. There were a lot more when he left a few hours earlier to get some sleep, but a group was still outside, holding candles and singing.

  He held a box in his arms, things he gathered from the clinic lab, papers and such, along with the bag that belonged to the future LEP. Leaving the clinic, Dean could have gone around them, instead, he opted to walk through.

  “How is Sgt. Ryder?” Gemma called out.

  “Better. Out. Will be for days, so if you guys want to put this on pause …”

  Before he finished, they started singing again. He shrugged and kept going. He made his way to the Cryo lab concentrating on old seventies songs to clear his head.

  “Okay, El,” He said as he entered the lab. “We may have to break out Journey to clear our head so we at least…”

  He paused. Ellen was humming We are the World.

  “Really, El?”

  “Sorry. It’s stuck in my head.”

  “At least they stopped singing the German version,” Dean said.

  “Yeah, that didn’t fit at all.”

  “Not at all.” Dean set the box on the counter. “Ready?’

  “For music?”

  “This.” Dean held up the leather like case of the future LEP.

  “You brought it from home,” she said excitedly.

  “I couldn’t wait any longer. And now that Ryder is stable, we can take some time. Look at it.”

  “And of course, open it.”

  “What do you think is in here?” Dean asked.

  “One way to find out.”

  “Have you … uh, let him out to go today?”

  “Yeah, he didn’t have to go so I gave him a latte.”

  “Mocha?” Dean asked.

  “Yep, that should jump start him. Let’s just listen for him to knock on the window.”

  “Do you suppose he knows why he is here?”

  “I do. He’s obviously civilized by his world’s standards. He’s in our world, so he knows he’s a prisoner. Or a new text subject.” Dean grabbed the fastener on the case. “Ready.”

  “Go.”

  He opened it.

  It didn’t just open up in two, it folded outward. Four compartments. One was definitely food, the other tools, the third was medical and the fourth was hard for him to determine.

  “Food,” Dean said. Lifting then putting back the items. “Easy to test.”

  “I wouldn’t eat it.”

  “No. Considering they marinate and eat humans.”

  “In ginger nonetheless.” Ellen peered down. “What are these? Looks like a weapon or piece of one,” Ellen lifted the metal triangle. “These are bandages.”

  “Yeah,” Dean said. “I’d guess that too. What’s the syringe?”

  “Whatever is in it …” Ellen lifted a small bottle. “Is in here too. We have to test it.”

  “Without a doubt.”

  “Odd.” Ellen opened a small pouch. “They look like large ear buds.”

  Dean examined them. “They do.”

  “I look at this,” Ellen said. “And I think, this is from the future. Wow.”

  “Amazing.”

  “I am.” Frank’s voice entered the room.

  Dean groaned. “How did I know that was coming?”

  “Because I am. Wait. Did that make sense?”

  “What are you doing here?” Dean asked. “Don’t you have a crime to solve or your death to prevent?”

  “That’s why I’m here and quit being rude. I brought you gifts that you are enjoying.” Frank pointed to the bag. “This…” Frank lifted a flat object from the mystery compartment. “Looks like a small version of the object Ryder found. Radio or something. Maybe we should try to use it.”

  “And call who?” Dean asked.

  “Uh, Dean, the future.”

  Dean stared at him. “Good idea. Once you figure out how to turn it on, you try that.”

  “I will.”

  Ellen questioned. “So, how does solving crime bring you here?”

  “I have to ask you guys something.” He continued to touch the contents of the bag. “Is this food?”

  “We’re guessing it is,” Dean said.

  Frank opened a pouch.

  “We have to test that,” Ellen said.

  “It’s fresh. It’s from the future so technically it isn’t made yet.” Frank peeked in a small sack. “Oh, yeah.” He pulled out a brown, leather looking strip. “Beef jerky. I love beef jerky. Obviously, in the future, it’s the food of fucking choice.”

  Dean shook his head. “That’s probably not beef jerky.”

  “Sure it is. Teriyaki,” Frank sniffed it. “I smell ginger. Man, I have to get on Danny Hoi. We don’t have any of these spices now.” He opened his mouth, placed it in and took a bite

  “Frank!” Dean yelled and snatched it from his hand.

  “What?” Frank chewed, then slowed down and spoke as he did. “It’s chewy.”

  Ellen cringed. “I’m gonna throw up.”

  “Tastes weird,” Frank said. “Not like beef at all.”

  “That’s because it probably isn’t beef, you goof.” Dean put the item back.

  “Chicken?”

  “No,” Dean said. “People.”

  Frank stopped chewing and swallowed.

  Wiping the smirk from his face and though demented, Dean enjoyed the fact that Frank ate something for the first time that would probably make him sick. He waited for the reaction.

  Nothing.

  “Well?” Dean asked.

  Frank shrugged. “I probably wouldn’t make a meal out of it. But it doesn’t count, it can’t be people if they aren’t born yet.”

&n
bsp; “Oh, God,” Ellen grunted. “That was so gross. But a part of me wants to laugh.”

  Frank waved out his hand. “Eh, I probably ate worse.”

  “Like what?” Dean asked. “What was worse than eating people?”

  “Ever eat Hog’s Head cheese. I’m pretty sure that has fucking human fingers in it. Besides, Charlton Heston ate people. I’m sure it’s okay.”

  “Charlton Heston did not eat people,” Dean argued.

  “He did. Soylent Green. Made out of people. Came in different colors, flavors …”

  “Frank,” Dean snapped. “That was a movie!”

  “They still ate it, Dean. Fuck. People yell at me. Speaking of Cannon Balls.”

  “Speaking of what?” Dean asked.

  “Cannon balls. You’re the doctor and you don’t know what cannon balls are?”

  “Yeah, I …”

  “I’m not talking testicles, Dean. Not those balls…”

  “Frank, I ….”

  “A cannon doesn’t have testicles. Cannon balls like this situation. People eating people?” Frank tried to clarify. “Although I don’t know what a cannon ball has to do with people eating people. You’re the doctor, why is that?”

  “Frank, it’s not …”

  “Unless they call it cannon balls because they cause explosive diarrhea or something. In which case, I hope that doesn’t happen, I have work to do. Will it?”

  “Frank. Stop.” Dean held up his hand. “You are not going to get explosive diarrhea from that one bite. Maybe gas.”

  “I can handle gas.”

  “And the term is actually cannibals.”

  Frank stared.

  “What?” Dean asked.

  “I’m not hearing the difference. Are you putting the emphasis elsewhere?”

  Softly Dean grunted. “Yes.”

  “Okay got it. So how is our future dude?”

  Ellen answered. “Doing well. Not as angry. We decided to call him Lep.”

  “Why not just ask his name?” Frank asked. “He speaks English. Didn’t think of that, did you. No, and everyone thinks I’m the dumb one.”

  “There’s a reason for that ….” Dean huffed when Frank walked away. “He’s calm Frank, we’re waiting on his latte to kick in. Don’t bother him.”