The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series

by Jacqueline Druga

“I know.” Frank’s hand cleared from his face and slammed on to the table. Suddenly a look of panic hit him. “Fuck.”

  Henry’s eyes shifted around. “What’s wrong?”

  “El . . . El is coming over. You can’t let her see this.” Frank stood up. “She’s coming over now. She can’t know. Promise me you won’t tell her anything about this.”

  Henry looked in debate. “Frank . . .”

  “Promise me.”

  Henry looked at Robbie then Frank. “We promise.”

  “Good.” Frank bent down to the floor. “I have to get this cleaned up.” He hurriedly began to pick up glass.

  Henry started to bend down also. “I’ll help you.”

  Frank stopped his reaching hand. “No, this is my mess. Believe me, this is my mess. I’ll clean it up. Robbie . . .” Frank raised his head to his brother. “Cut El off. Tell her, tell her I need a rain check. I’ll see her later or something. Please?”

  Robbie slowly nodded “Sure Frank,. I need to talk to her anyhow.”

  “And don’t say anything,” Frank ordered.

  “No, I won’t.” Robbie sadly took one more look at his brother and Henry then walked slowly to the door to wait outside for Ellen.

  The moment Frank heard the door closed, he dropped to a sitting position on the floor and stared at the wet carpet and the broken glass.

  Quietly, Henry sat down and joined him on the floor. “I know you don’t want my help Frank. I don’t care. I’ll help you get this place in order.” Henry started to help Frank clean up. So symbolic it was. Not only was it Henry’s first step in helping Frank clean up his house, but it would also be Henry’s first step in helping his friend clean up his life as well.

  <><><><>

  Henry.

  Ellen felt a little nervous when she heard the shower water stop. She lay on her bed, on her stomach, flipping through an old tabloid magazine she dug out of her memorabilia box. She stopped reading when the water stopped. It would be the first time all night she faced Henry since she had left for her meeting. He wasn’t there when she got home or when she got out of the shower. While she was in the kitchen, somehow Henry slipped quickly in the house and into the shower before he even said hello. She smelled the moonshine scent that trailed him as she followed him up the stairs. She remembered him saying he didn’t think she’d be home. He had spilled on himself. Ellen had to end the conversation through the bathroom door and water noise, explaining to Henry that her throat hurt too much to yell. Though it did, Ellen didn’t know what to say to him, or how to act when she saw him.

  “Hey El.”

  Ellen slammed the magazine shut. “Hi Henry.”

  “Did you say your throat hurt?”

  “Um . . .” Ellen rolled onto her side and watched Henry, standing with his back facing her as he dug through his drawers for a tee shirt. “Yes. My stomach too.”

  “You aren’t getting sick are you, El?” He faced her as he put on his shirt then turned back to face the mirror to comb his hair.

  “Henry. How do you feel about Frank?”

  Henry chuckled. “He’s my best friend. I love him.” So stunned by Ellen’s reaction he walked to the bed. “El?” He removed the pillow from her face. “Why are you laughing?”

  “Have you always . . . .loved him?”

  “Ellen?”

  “Henry, be honest with me for a second because I know. O.K. No more hiding the truth. I know.”

  “O.K.” Henry sat down on the bed with her.

  “When did you stop, you know, loving Frank, or haven’t you.”

  “I just told you . . . El. Why are me asking me this?”

  “Because Henry, I know.” She laid her hand to his knee. “I have to tell you though, I was a little nervous about facing you after I found out. I was afraid of how I’d feel but I guess it’s funny. Sorry, it is. But I’m all right with it. I understand why.”

  “Understand why, what?”

  “Henry. I know all about it.”

  “Know about what?”

  “Do I have to spell it out?”

  “Yes, because I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”

  “O.K.” Ellen took a second to be serious. “I know.”

  “What do you know?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me Henry? Didn’t you think I’d understand?”

  At that point Henry had given up. “Understand what?”

  “The fact that you were gay.”

  “What?! I was never gay.”

  “Oh sorry. You’re right. The fact that you had relations with another man, Henry, I found out about it tonight at our moon meeting. I was a little shocked.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “No, no.” Ellen sat up “Don’t worry. I’m O.K. with it.”

  “El, I never . . .”

  “I was a bit surprised to find out you were once in love with Frank.”

  “Oh my God!” Henry stood up quickly. “The women told you this? Why?”

  “Because it’s true.”

  “No it is not!” Henry’s hand went immediately through his hair. “They all think this?” He began to pace in circles. “They thought I was in love with Frank? El, I love Frank . . . stop laughing, but not like that. Trust me, if I were ever to be intimate with any man, the thought of it being Frank would never cross my mind. That’s, that’s . . . that’s really scary.” Henry fell down in shock to the bed. “And you believed this?”

  “Oh sure Henry, why wouldn’t I?”

  Stunned, Henry’s wide eyes shifted to Ellen. “Well, you, I, uh . . . you should know me better.” Henry seemed so offended at her.

  “But you’re so sensitive, Henry.”

  “El!”

  She giggled and edged her way to him. “I’m glad that was untrue. I really am. Of course when they told me, I was eating, and I started to choke.”

  “Really choke?”

  “Oh sure and my face turned blue. I looked like something from Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory. What was her name?”

  “The spoiled rich girl?” Henry looked up to the ceiling, a thinking face perched upon his face. “Pamela.”

  “No Henry, wasn’t it Amanda?”

  “Come to think of it El, was it a normal name?”

  “No it wasn’t. I can still see her wearing that fur coat. Didn’t it begin with a ‘P’?”

  “I think so.” Henry moved even closer to Ellen. “I just know this is going to bother me all night.”

  “We’ll figure it out Henry. Oh . . .” She snapped her fingers. “I know, I have that movie in a box over at Frank’s.” She swept her legs over the side of the bed. “Let’s go over there and watch it and really drive Frank’s nuts.” She nodded. “Want to?”

  “El I don’t think . . .”

  “Come on Henry, you don’t have to even get dressed.” She hurried to the door. “What’s wrong?”

  Henry raced quickly through his mind what Frank was doing when he left. He didn’t need for Ellen to catch him still scrubbing that carpet. “El, um, go on down, I’ll be right there.”

  “Don’t change, Henry. It’ll be funny watching Frank’s expression when you show up in your underwear to watch that movie.” She reached out and grabbed Henry’s hand “Come on unless you don’t think he wants to be bothered.”

  “Come to think of it, El, us going over there might be just what Frank needs.” Henry pulled his hand from hers and went to his dresser. Not to throw on pants, he really didn’t care if he wore those, but to check his hair. He could go out of his house without pants, but with messy hair . . . never.

  Walking to Frank’s house, Ellen and Henry had to pass by Dean’s. Holding Ellen’s hand, Henry felt her slow down and then stop. “What is it?”

  Ellen looked up to the second floor of Dean’s house. “He’s still up.”

  “Is that wrong?”

  “It’s just late for Dean that’s all.” Ellen shrugged, and continued walking to Frank’s.

  <><><><>

&
nbsp; His bent legs were brought directly to his chest as Dean sat on his bed. His arms around his legs, his forehead pressed tightly to his knees as he rocked back and forth.

  The pain, the pain would not go away or even let up. He could feel the sweat that came from his face drip down across his legs. Nothing he had taken had even put a dent in the suffering he was experiencing nor did Dean think it would. The sharp searing pain spun around his head, encircling it with a pressure that felt like a band tightening with each passing second. In a sitting fetal position, he stayed atop his bed, knowing that sleep would not come for him on this night. A part of Dean was afraid to sleep even though he knew it was going to end up being the longest night of his life. Dean felt so sick. He wondered if he’d even make it through the night. He felt for certain . . . he was dying.

  <><><><>

  Blink of an Eye

  Book 8

  TRIUMPH AND LOSS

  Reaching into the darkness ...

  Pulling from inside, the strength to succeed ...

  The strength to overcome all obstacles ...

  To find our victories ...

  And to battle the losses we may have to face ...

  within the inner struggles

  INTRINSIC BATTLES

  CHAPTER ONE

  JULY 25

  Out of a dead, deep sleep Henry sprang up to a sitting position calling out in a panic, “Violet!” He breathed heavily, his heart racing from the horrible nightmare which was a repeat of the night before. But Henry smiled. He remembered the name of the little girl in the Willy Wonka movie who turned blue. That’s what mattered. Minutes before five in the morning and he finally remembered. He knew it was going to bother him but he didn’t think it would invade his sleep. Then again, how could it not? They went over to Frank’s to watch the movie and he still didn’t get the name. Every single time Violet would come on or someone was about to say her name Frank would either speak really loud, turn down the television set, or just press fast-forward. But Henry showed him. It came to him anyhow.

  He slipped down under the covers again and prepared to make himself comfortable, again. Just as Henry’s head touched the pillow, the loud ringing of the phone, right next to his ear, made him jump back up. He grabbed it and still groggy, Henry cleared his throat and answered the phone before the second ring finished. “Hello,” he said in a whisper. “Dean? Dean, what is it.” Henry closed his eyes. Though Dean said nothing, he knew something was wrong. “Hold on.” Henry got out of bed and hurried to the next room where Ellen was sound asleep. He covered the phone with his hand. “El? El?”

  Ellen moaned.

  “El.” Henry brought his mouth to her ear. “Wake up.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Five. El, Dean is on the phone.”

  Ellen immediately rolled over to her back and lifted herself up with her elbows. “Dean?”

  “He doesn’t sound good, El.” Henry handed her the phone.

  Removing her hair from her face, Ellen placed the phone to her ear. “Dean?”

  There was a long pause of silence then Dean’s soft cracking voice spoke, “El ... El, I ... I need you, El.”

  That was all Dean needed to say. She felt it, the hard flutter of her stomach when the pain of his sound went through her. “I’ll be right there.” She shut off the phone and handed it to Henry, flinging the covers off of her.

  “El, what’s wrong?” Henry watched her race out of bed and from the bedroom. He heard the water run in the bathroom. “El?” He got out of bed and followed her. “What happened?”

  Ellen quickly brushed her teeth. After she rinsed her mouth, she splashed water on her face and took the towel that Henry handed her. “Oh God.”

  “Ellen, what happened?”

  “Please.” She looked up at the ceiling as she ran past Henry. “Please don’t let my gut be right. Please God.” She bent down to the floor and picked up her shorts, tossing them on. “Look at my hands, Henry.” She held them out before buttoning her shorts. “I’m shaking.” In a run she slipped on her shoes. “I have to go.” She darted by him. “I’ll call you.”

  “El.” Henry reached out grabbing her arm before she left the bedroom. “Do you need me to come with you?”

  “I think he needs me alone, Henry. I’ll call you.” With a worried look glued to her face, Ellen took a deep breath and flew down the stairs, opening the front door, and not even shutting it as she ran out.

  Her footsteps were the only sound on the quiet street, echoing as she charged the four houses down. She stopped before she went inside. Briefly she looked up. His bedroom light was still on. Feeling her heartbeat in her ears Ellen opened the front door calling out, “Dean!” He didn’t answer her and she followed her gut which told her to go up stairs. She did. “Dean!” Her breathing burned her lungs from the rushing and the excitement to get to him. Her entire body halted in a freeze when she stepped to the bedroom doorway and saw Dean sitting on the side of the bed.

  His head was down, hanging down, his hair forward as he sat there in just his boxer shorts. His elbows rested on his knees and he looked as if he watched something on the floor.

  The lump, the lump in her throat grew when Ellen looked upon him. She shivered in her breath and took a step into the room. “Dean.” Another step to him, her hand reaching out. “Dean.”

  “It’s gone, El.”

  His words throbbed in her head, causing her already quickly beating heart to literally pound. She closed her eyes, moving closer to him, and laid her hand upon his face. “When?”

  Dean’s head moved into that hand. “About three hours ago,” he spoke in a monotone. “I waited and I waited and it ... it never came back.”

  “Why didn’t you call me when this happened? Why?” Her fingers slipped into his hair as she lowered closer to him.

  Dean raised his head, his eyes were open and they just stared forward, not moving, just forward. “I’m sorry I called you. I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t know who I could call.”

  “No matter what we have said to each other lately, no matter what, know that I am here for you. Know that.” Moving her hand to behind his head, she brought her other arm up and brought Dean closer to her.

  “I’m scared, El.” His hands slowly reached out and lay upon her legs. They moved up to her hips and when Dean knew where they were, he leaned forward and dropped to the floor on his knees so emotionally. “I’m so scared.” His desperate arms grabbed on to her and he buried his head in her stomach. “What am I going to do? I can’t see, El. I can’t see.”

  Ellen felt and heard the soft emotional sound of sadness that Dean released. Her hands held onto his head, keeping him to her then she too lowered herself to that floor with him and held him. With everything he had, so scared, so confused, Dean gripped tightly to Ellen and he just clung to her.

  <><><><>

  “OK. Thanks, Joe.” Ellen held her fingernails close to her mouth in debate of biting them as she spoke on the phone. She watched Dean, sitting still on his bed throughout her whole entire conversation. “Yeah, no problem. I’ll stop by. Thanks again.” She shut off the phone, set it on the nightstand, looking into the mug and at the plate that sat there also. “You didn’t touch your tea or toast.”

  “My head is still killing me.”

  “I’m stopping by the clinic.”

  “There’s nothing that will work. I tried it all.”

  “Did you try the Apenetheral?”

  Dean shook his head. “That’s the strongest stuff we have.”

  “Then you’ll take it. If nothing else works, you’ll take it.”

  “It’s IV only. It’s too strong to give it alone.”

  “Then I’ll start an IV.” Ellen picked up the piece of toast. “When is the last time you ate?”

  “Yesterday morning.”

  “Lack of food isn’t helping your headache and I can’t give you the Apenetheral if you don’t eat.” She grabbed his hand and laid the toast in it. “I spok
e to Joe. I told him how sick you were. He wanted to know if he should send Andrea ... eat that please ... over here.”

  Dean lifted his head up. “She can’t come over.”

  “Well I told Joe that you are a doctor and I’ll be here. He said you must really be sick if you aren’t working. Eat that please.”

  A small bite was all Dean took. “Sick is an understatement.”

  “He also said Frank is only working a half day today and he’ll make sure that Frank picks up the kids for us. As far as tonight goes, we’ll deal with that later. I’ll stay. Henry will want to also. He’s concerned.”

  “I know.”

  “What I’ll do now is run home, change, head up to the mobile, and get Johnny situated with some batch tests on the mutated specimens. I’ll pick up our notes and we’ll review the combinations of agents and medications we haven’t tried.”

  “You’re leaving me?”

  “Dean, I have to,” Ellen tried to explain. “I have to but I won’t be gone long.”

  “I can’t be alone right now. I don’t know how to be alone right now.”

  “You have to, Dean. Half hour tops. We have to work and I have to get things in the lab in order for Johnny.”

  “I don’t feel like working today.” Dean reached out his hand feeling for the table to drop his toast.

  Ellen stopped him and brought his hand back to his mouth. “Eat. Do you not feel like doing it because you’re sick, or because you’re down?”

  “I’m sick.”

  “OK.” Ellen nodded. “But you know, if you are better tomorrow, we have to move on. We have to work. Especially if we don’t want anyone to know you lost your sight yet.”

  “How?” Dean asked with desperation. “How do we do it?”

  “Like we have been preparing for. We can do this, Dean. We can really do this. We’ve worked together to be able to work through this.”