Ellen shrieked, jumped, and spun around with her hand on her chest. “You scared me.”
“What are you doing here alone?”
“I should be asking you the same thing, Dr. Hayes. Who is with the children?”
“Check this out. I have a live in babysitter this week.” He looked at Ellen’s ‘what?’ expression. “Yeah. Frank’s nomad kid wants to stay with me this week while you are staying with Frank so, I thought I’d take advantage of him, like Frank, and take some of my work back to the clinic. The kids were in bed anyhow.”
“All of them?”
“Well, except for Alex. She stayed to help Frank. So she said. Are you going home? Or rather to Frank’s?” Dean asked.
“Yes. Walk with me?”
“I’d love to.” Placing his hands in his pockets, Dean walked with her. “So you didn’t answer me. What were you doing at the social hall? Did you have a fight with Frank or Henry?”
“No.” Ellen shook her head and folded her arms. “The meeting moved to the hall. They told me it always does. But that was after we went and all took our drinks and had Blake entertain us for a while.”
“Blake the soap opera guy?”
“Soap opera god, Dean.”
“Sorry.” He chuckled. “Entertain? What did he do, recite lines for you?”
“Uh . . . we sort of watched him rehearse and critiqued his progress.”
“His progress? You guys critiqued his acting.”
“Not exactly acting.”
“If he wasn’t acting, what was he rehearsing? Is he learning to play an instrument?” He saw Ellen shake her head. “What else can the guy do? He has a hard enough time in inventory. You probably made the guy flex or something.” He saw her expression. “You did?”
“Not exactly flex. Dean, don’t worry about it.” She grabbed his arm and held it while she walked.
“No, you have my curiosity piqued. What is he rehearsing?”
“You can’t say anything. Blake is learning how to dance.”
“Dance? Why is he . . .Ellen!” Dean walked to in front of her. “Don’t tell me you have the man stripping for you women.”
“It’s a fine art, Dean. He’s so cute. Besides, the other women really appreciate it. He is my gift from Robbie you know.”
“I can’t believe that.” He started to laugh. “Is he any good?”
“Why, you wanna watch?”
“No.”
“Jealous maybe?” Ellen tilted her head and made them continue in their walking. “Anyhow, let’s just say he’s not as good as you were Dean that one time you . . .”
“Don’t!” Dean stopped her. “Don’t. You keep bringing that up.”
“You were the one dancing around like Tom Cruise in your underwear.”
“El, I was getting dressed and I had that stupid music player of yours going.”
“Dancing,” Ellen stated, “and Frank thought it was funny.”
“You told Frank?” Dean closed his eyes and shook his head. “Changing the subject.”
“How did I know that was coming?” Ellen leaned her head on his arm as they walked.
“How was your meeting?”
“It was fun.”
“No way. Fun?” Dean seemed surprised.
“Yeah, it wasn’t bad. I’m glad I went, and I’m having a wedding you know. A big giant celebration”
Dean stopped walking. “A wedding? You’re having a wedding. Last I spoke to you this afternoon you were burying the marriage to Henry thing.”
“Yep. That’s the plan.” Ellen stopped walking when she got to Frank’s house. She stood before Dean. “And now it’s a party, complete with everything.”
“When did you decide this?”
“I didn’t. The women wanted to do it as their next group effort.”
“So you’re getting peer pressured into marrying Henry?”
“Jenny is leading it. Frank wants me close to her. This is perfect. Of course with the way they’re talking and what they want to do, it might take months.” She shrugged.
“So … let me guess. You’ll let them plan because them taking months is giving Frank months to stop this thing,” Dean said.
“Or you. Either way, I’ll handle it. I’d better get in. Thanks for walking me home.”
“Anytime. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Dean laid his hand on her face and leaned into her to kiss her. He almost made it there when he felt Ellen slip from his fingers and heard her ‘hey’. He opened his eyes to see Frank.
“Night Dean,” Frank said strongly and wiggled his fingers as Ellen tried to get from behind him. When she moved to her right, so did Frank, blocking her from getting to Dean.
Dean threw his hands up, realizing at that moment why he didn’t want Frank to know about his and Ellen’s understanding. Because just like Frank blocked his simple kiss goodnight, Frank would find a way to block them completely. “Night El. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Ellen tried again to get to him--unsuccessfully. “Dean . . .oh.” She slammed her hands into Frank’s back.
Frank felt the nudge and turned around to face her. “Hey. Why are you pushing me?”
“Why did you do that?”
“Why? Because I didn’t want you kissing him, that’s why.” He listened to Ellen grunt at him. “And don’t . . .” He grunted back at her. “. . . at me. I’m protecting Henry’s interest. He’s crushed over this marriage thing.”
“Frank, please.”
“He is. He wouldn’t want you making out with Dean when he’s sleeping on the couch.”
“Right, Frank. Making out with . . .” Ellen looked at the door. “Henry’s sleeping on the couch?”
“Yeah, why?”
Ellen hurried inside and giggled when she saw him in the dark room lit only by the light cast from the kitchen. Henry lay on his stomach, his cheek flush against the couch cushion. His hair was flung about and his arm dangled off the couch. “What did you do to him Frank?” She whispered as she moved to the sofa. “As long as I’ve known Henry he’s never been asleep before midnight.”
“I didn’t do anything to him. I made him do the parent thing tonight. Don’t...” Frank grabbed her hand. “Don’t tuck his hair behind his ear. You make him look like girl.” He helped her to her feet. “We don’t need another thing for him to whine about.”
“What was he whining about tonight?”
“Oh everything. Holding the baby. Playing with Alex. He kept saying he sucks at the father stuff. I kept tell him, ‘Henry if you would just do it’.” Frank shrugged. “So.” Frank pulled her away from the couch. “Are you tired?”
“No, not at all. Why? Aren’t you?”
“No. I have an idea. You game?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Sure.” Ellen followed Frank as he went into the kitchen. “What are we doing?”
“Stay here.” He opened the basement door. “I’ll be back.”
Smiling as she listened in wonder to Frank going down the basement steps, she turned to go in the dining room when she saw it on the counter, an empty shot glass. She picked it up, brought it to her nose, and sniffed. She could smell the moonshine and it made her heart drop. She set it down when she heard Frank come back up.
“Ready?” He held something behind his back.
“Yes. Frank? Were you drinking tonight?”
The smile left Frank’s face and he turned stone serious. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Asking me if I had a drink. Yeah, I had one. You said I could have one once in a while. If you didn’t mean I could do that why did . . .”
“No.” Ellen held up her hand shaking her head. “I’m sorry. You’re right.” She tip toed up to him and kissed him on the cheek. “You’ve been so good. I’m proud of you.”
Frank swallowed and closed his eyes. There was silence for a second and then he broke it and stepped away from her. “All right. Ready?” He pulled out what he had from behind his back.
“S
crabble?” Ellen covered her mouth and laughed.
“How long has it been since we had a little bit of friendly competition?” Frank asked. “You up to it?”
“It’s so unfair when I play you, Frank.” She walked behind him in the dining room.
“Why is that?” He turned on the dining room light. The flick of the switch caused Henry to moan loudly about the brightness. “Shut the fuck up, Henry, and go back to sleep.” Frank set the board game down. “Why is it unfair?”
“Well, pegging me against you is like pegging you against Hap in a physical competition. There is no comparison. Do I have to spot you points?”
Frank shook his head and sat down. “You think you’re really funny. You’ve been hanging around with Dean too much.” He lifted the lid and began to remove the game. “Care to make a little wager?”
Ellen took her seat. “Frank, I’m gonna win. I always win.”
“Bet me.” Frank began to choose his tiles.
“All right, you’re on. What do you want to bet?”
“If I win, you have to sleep in bed with me tonight. Just sleep, nothing sexual.”
“Frank.” Ellen looked back at Henry sleeping on the couch. “I can’t do that.”
“Yeah you can. You’re no longer a married woman, What’s the reason.”
Ellen laughed. “Oh my God, you just love this null and void marriage thing.”
“El, please …I’m shocked and dismayed.” Frank set his pieces up on his holder.
“Dismayed? Hmm. You are practicing big words.” Ellen looked at her pieces. “All right and if I win, you have to do something nice for Dean tomorrow.”
“Like what?”
“Be his chauffeur. Drive him from the clinic to the lab when he needs it.”
“Fuck that.”
“Forget the bet them,” Ellen said calmly. “Ready to play?”
“No-no.” Frank shook his head. “I’ll take that bet. You wanna go first?”
“No, you. I already have the unfair advantage of being smarter.”
“I’m ignoring that comment.” Frank stared at his letters. “I’ll go first. Thank you.” His fingers swirled around the tiles. “How was the period meeting?”
“Good. You came up in discussion.” She saw him look at her. “The women don’t like you, Frank. I felt really badly about that.”
“Why?” Frank asked.
“You mean why don’t they like you?”
“No, why do you feel bad? I couldn’t give a fuck whether the women of this community like me or not. Do you like me?”
“Yeah, I like you.”
“Then that’s all that counts 'cause you’re the only woman that matters.” He leaned over to her, kissed her on her cheek, sat back again, and gave a quiet smile. “O.K. let’s play.” He clapped his hands together. “Will you look at this?” He spoke so fake. “I have a word. ‘Protein’.” He laid the letters down. “Double score and . . . I used all my letters. Fifty point bonus, El.” He slid a paper and pen to her. “Keep score, baby.”
Ellen’s mouth dropped open. “You’re cheating.”
“It’s Scrabble. How can you fuckin cheat in Scrabble?”
“I don’t know.” She marked down his score. “But I know you are.” She picked up her tiles and laid them down.
“Trip?” Frank snickered. “That’s the best you can do?”
“Shut up, Frank.” Ellen wrote down her pitiful score, slumped down in her chair, and debated if she should have made that bet after all.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
JULY 11
The cryo-genic portion of the cryo-lab, where fifty-three preserved scientists hung, had been many things in Beginnings since it was discovered a little over a year prior. An autopsy room, a storage room, a hiding files room, but now it was Henry’s room. It was his own little personal computer lab used to work on that microchip. It was private. It had a secured door and though there were glass windows on one side of his little lab, they were sound proof and bullet proof so no one heard him and he heard no one, especially Dean and Ellen if they were working the same time as he. That was always detrimental to Henry, because he would listen to them instead of doing his work.
Henry was so excited about the program Robbie had found. He still was figuring it out but was having fun doing so.
Joe rubbed his tired eyes as he sat with Henry. “This is why I had to be here at five-thirty this morning? It couldn’t have waited until eight.”
“Oh sure Joe, it could have waited, but I couldn’t wait until then. I have a full day in Mechanics. Speaking of which,” Henry picked up his radio, “Scott, come in.”
“Yeah, Henry?”
“O.K. just checking if you’re there. I’ll be there shortly.” He set down his radio and returned to Joe. “As I was saying, this thing will program the chip to enable the SUT to do what the chip tells it. The chip actually translates the messages to the body. For example, say I choose . .” Henry’s hand moved the mouse, “assassin.” Henry clicked on the program. “To you and me this looks like nothing but numbers and sequences, but once it is fed into the microchip, the brain of the SUT will tell him to kill and kill only. The only fault I can come up with is that you have to train him what to kill.” Henry shrugged. “How that’s done, I don’t know.”
“So all of these programs are different types of soldiers?”
“Yes and no. Most are. There’s one it says domestication. I’m thinking we could reprogram the chip and teach the SUT how to farm for the field, because we really don’t know if he’s functioning normally enough to give him a weapon and put him in security.”
“When do you think the chip will be ready to implant again?”
“Soon.” Henry pulled his notes closer. “As soon as I figure out which program I’m going to make him. Unless . . . Joe you don’t suppose, since we have two chips, that maybe Dean can leave the brain exposed and we can implant, try a program, take out the chip, and put in the other one.”
“I’m out of here.” Joe stood up.
“What did I say?”
“That’s sick, Henry, especially for you.”
“Where you going Joe?”
“Home to catch a nap.” Joe looked at his watch. “I can get an hour. Good work…I think.” Joe reached for the door and pulled. The door wouldn’t budge. He punched in his code and the door buzzed. Joe pulled again, nothing. “Christ.”
“Just try again. It stuck on me this morning. It took like five tries.”
Grunting, Joe tried again and succeeded. “Fix this thing, Henry. You’re down here all the time anyhow.”
“No, I’m not. Just when I should be sleeping, that’s all.”
“That doesn’t matter. Fix it. You don’t want to get stuck and have to have someone come down and get you out.”
“I’ll fix it, Joe.”
“Good. Talk to you later.” Joe smiled at him and left the small back lab.
As soon as Henry heard the safety latching of the door, he spun his stool back to his computer and finished up what he had to look at before starting his day in Mechanics.
<><><><>
It was typical of Frank’s house. It was the middle of July and Ellen was freezing. Double blankets were pulled up to her chin as she lay on her side in a fetal position. As the cold of the room woke her up, she knew it was early. She didn’t even have to open her eyes to feel that but then Ellen felt something else. Fear. “Shit.” She flung the covers off and sprang out of bed. Her eyes caught the alarm clock and the time of five-thirty a.m. Her heart raced. What had happened? Why didn’t Nick wake up? With shaking hands, she moved to the door and then stopped. Her views turned back to the bed she just left and her heart stopped racing so fast. Where was Frank? Did he leave for work all ready? Nick probably did wake up and he or Henry fed him. Just to be on the safe side, Ellen wanted to check on the baby.
She grabbed a pair of sweat pants and walked from the dark, blind drawn bedroom into the hall. She moved to Alex’s room and
peeked inside. Alex was sound asleep, and in that room was the crib. Ellen didn’t have to walk into the room to see the crib was empty.
Running her fingers through her tossed about hair, and keeping her arms folded tight to her, Ellen walked down stairs. As soon as she hit the bottom, she saw Frank on the couch. She could see his bare shoulders as he sat there in his boxer shorts. He had the coffee table pulled close to the couch and his feet rested upon it. His long legs were bent up and close together, and there sleeping comfortable in the grove of his legs was Nick.
“Frank?” Ellen whispered his name as she walked around and sat down with him.
“Hey El.” He smiled at her. “There’s coffee if you want some.”
Ellen reached to the table and felt the mug he had sitting there “I’ll drink yours. It’s still warm.” She held it up. “Do you mind?”
“Help yourself. What are you doing up?”
“I was cold and then I realized I wasn’t woke up at all by a newborn. Odd occurrence.” She pulled her legs up curling some to Frank to steal his body heat. Her knees brushed against his side as she sat there sipping his coffee. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
Frank shrugged as he stared at the baby.
“I didn’t hear him cry.”
“He doesn’t cry yet. He sort of whimpers,” he snickered, “like his dad. Anyhow, I heard him. I didn’t mind getting up.” Frank grabbed Nick’s hand. “Look at how small his fingers are, El. His whole hand doesn’t fit around my pinky. Look at this.”
Ellen smiled and rested her head on his shoulder “Did Henry help out this morning?”
“Henry was up and out by four. You didn’t hear him bumping into shit?”
“No. Obviously you did. You were the light sleeper last night.”
“I had my reasons.” Frank reached to her hands, grabbed the coffee, took a drink, and returned it. “I didn’t want to miss it.”
“Miss what?”
Frank turned his head slightly with a somber look. “Sleeping next to you. Sleeping near you. I only wish I didn’t have to win that privilege in a game of Scrabble.”
“Frank . . .”
“Cause I’ve missed it. I’ve really missed it.” Frank swallowed predominantly. “I miss you.” He looked back at the baby. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be like this. I promised myself I wouldn’t say anything mushy to you and . . . I did.”
The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series Page 255