“Ellen.” Trish quickly removed the dip from Ellen’s reach when she saw Ellen was eating the dip she had made. “I’m having a large child and it will be born when it’s ready. I’m not even due yet.”
“Not yet?” Ellen’s cheeks puffed out when she filled them with the air she slowly let out. “God, you’ll explode if you carry it any longer. You should talk to Dean about taking it out. Wait, maybe not Dean right now. Andrea will do it.”
Jenny cleared her throat to get everyone’s attention. “We should be starting, Ellen.” She held her index finger to her own lips. “OK. We’ll get the meeting portion over with because our activity will take some time tonight. First.” Jenny took on a somber look. “I speak for all of us, Ellen, when I say how sorry we are that Henry did this to you. I also speak for all of us when I say it was a dick move.” Applause filled the room. “We’re all pissed at him, Ellen, all of us. We all put in stupid requisitions this week, lots of them, just to annoy him.”
This pleased Ellen and the smile on her face showed it. “Thank you for that.”
“Oh sure.” Jenny waved her hand. “Now I’ve been talking to a few of you and I’d like a show of hands on this one. I think since we have worked so hard on the food list, got the OK from Distribution for supplies, been creating decorations, I think that we should still have our party. But instead of it being a celebration of love, it will be a celebration of life. Reverend Bob said he’ll have a special service at the church, and then we’ll go over to the Social Hall for refreshments and entertainment. Paul will still D.J. and we’ll have a great party. We’ll save the gowns for another wedding. I’m sure they can be taken in and such. They’ll be used ... someday whenever an unattached female gets here or Ellen decides to marry someone else. Show of hands.” It was a unanimous vote. “Good. A little bit of advice please; those who think they may have problems with their partners for who they’ll be with for the party, you might want to consider time slots.”
The women in the room nodded at each other at such the brilliancy of Jenny’s suggestion.
“Continuing. Is there anyone who has anything they need to bring up tonight?” Jenny announced and saw Ellen raise her hand. “Yes, Ellen?”
“OK.” Ellen stood up—something she knew she’d regret doing when it came time to sit back down. “As you know, Robbie Slagel gave me Blake Steward as a gift last year. I’ve made no bones about the fact that he’s mine, even though Joe insists it’s not right to claim people as their own. Blake likes it though. He’s not really that smart. Anyhow ... I feel that it’s time to give him up and seeing how Blake likes the ownership factor ...” Ellen hesitated and then spoke rapidly, “I’m putting him on the auction block. He goes to the highest bidder.” Silence, dead silence. ‘Oh God, they’re gonna start throwing things at me,’ Ellen thought.
Cindy raised her hand. “What do you mean—highest bidder. You’ll take bribes?”
Hunching her shoulders and thinking of ways to kill Danny, Ellen hesitated. “Yes.”
Another woman lifted her hand to ask a question. “Then he’s ours to do with what we want? That gorgeous guy would be ours?”
Before Ellen answered, Jenny put in a comment, “Do work hours and such count? Babysitting and so forth?”
Ellen nodded.
Jenny clapped her hands. “Oh, this could be fun.” She ran over and got some paper. “We have to establish rules.”
A sigh of relief is what Ellen let out. “Really? You guys want to do this?”
“Oh sure,” Jenny said. “I want Blake,” she snickered. “I’ll keep him on the side for viewing purposes.” She shivered. “I love his body. OK, Ellen, we need time. Ladies, why don’t we put a bid date on for Wednesday, August fifth?” She waited for agreement. “Then Ellen can announce her winner on that Friday. Ellen, is that all right?”
“Um ... yes ... that’ll work.”
Jenny held up her pen. “We have to write the bids down. It’ll secure it so we don’t fail to pay up. And it will lessen the confusion on what we bid. Ellen, can we change our bids if we want?”
Trish shook her head. “That’s not really fair. What if I bid something good and you find out, Jenny. I think it should go the same as construction bids go, sealed. And Ellen can’t say who bid what.”
Jenny hesitated in disagreement. “But don’t you think it’ll make it more of a competition game? After all, when there used to be auctions everyone had a chance to outbid the other.” She waited for Trish’s nod. “All right, is there anyone here who doesn’t want to participate?” No one raised their hands. “Then let the auction begin.”
Ellen sat pleased—uncomfortable, but pleased—she would have to tell Danny how well things went.
Jenny continued on, “Next up, we have ...” Jenny stopped talking when there was a knock on the door. “That should be Forrest.” She walked over to the door and opened it. “Forrest!” She led him in. “We’re just about finished. You can have a seat in the dining room while we finish up.”
“Uh woo do that, Jen-nay.” As he moved through the living room, he winked at Ellen.
Ellen’s eyes widened, and she slid in to hide closer to Trish’s pregnant body. “Oh my God.”
Jenny looked at her. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” Ellen shook her head. “Finish up. I want to start our project.”
“I’ll do that. OK, I will announce the winners for next week’s dartboard competition game.” She saw the enthusiastic anticipation on the faces of the women who awaited her announcement. “Bill from Armory wins for telling Bev she looked absolutely stupid in her flat shoes. And ... Dean for being so mean to Ellen. Ellen, you can change your mind now if you want.”
“Nah.” Ellen shook her head. “Even though he’s blind now, he wasn’t when he was mean. Keep him on the board.”
“Good.” Jenny set down her paper and pencil. “Then we can begin. Did everyone bring their stuff?” There was a unison of excited ‘yeses’. “Then let’s begin. I’ll let Forrest take it while I go get the softening wax. Forrest? Forrest.”
Forrest waddled his way into the living room. “Uh wuss en-joy-yang de dup. Et wuss good.” He smiled, aiming it at Ellen. When Jenny slipped from the room, he continued, “Uh um going ta enjoy shoe-ing ma no-ledge wit all ef you. Uh will start bay hopping you un-da-stund where et all begun.” Forrest seemed so excited as he was about to tell his tale. “Et es a rit-u-el ef de tribes ef Africa. De Voodoo doll wuss yessed a-gins de en-a-me to bring hem don. Woot you will use de voodoo for es for fin. Et well newt wok Sue donut dink et well.” Forrest chuckled at the disappointment on the women’s faces. “Et es de be-lif dat de personnel items on de doll es what mucks et magic. You well ned three items from de object of your voodoo. You well ned hair, cloth of dem, und a item dat day tooch quit a bit. Do we huff dis items?” He raised his eyebrows to everyone to see them nod. “Ah-rut.” Forrest clapped his hands together once. “Uh see dat Jen-nay hes de wicks on de ta-bell. We well shup et onto de firm of de mall dat you want to voodoo and a-touch de personnel items to et. Shall we?” He pointed his hand toward the dining room, and the line of enthusiastic women headed there. “Donut war-re, uh well hop you wit de firming of de wicks. Uh em quit goo dat et.” He pulled Ellen back as she passed him. “El-loon, uh em quit goo dat o-there dings es well,” he whispered in her ear.
Ellen swallowed. Not only did a twinge of nervousness hit her but so did a twinge of nausea too. She shuffled quickly with a fake chuckle, from Forrest. She stared into the wax, holding her little pouch.
“Henry?” Trish whispered at Ellen.
“Huh?” Ellen looked back at her. “What about him?”
“Is that who your voodoo doll is going to be?”
“Oh no, that wouldn’t be fun,” Ellen told her. “Mine is going to be Frank. Hell, I spent yesterday sewing an old tee shirt of his into Frank-clothes. And ... I was so glad that he trimmed his goatee last night. I have a bunch of little hairs that I’m going to use too.” She o
pened her pouch and showed Trish. “I really hope he gives us that spell that goes on the dolls. I really want this to work.” Through the corner of her eyes, during her conversation, Ellen saw Forrest heading her way. With quick thinking, and dreading making that date, she stood closer to Trish, trying her hardest to hide behind her protruding pregnant stomach.
<><><><>
Total body exhaustion, is what Henry looked like he was suffering from when he plopped into the chair next to the couch in Frank’s house. He held a bottle of his homemade wine from which he proceeded to drink. “What a night.”
Frank, who sat on the couch, leaning into the coffee table, merely shifted his eyes at him. “What the hell are you whining about?”
“Nick,” Henry answered. “He’s tough, Frank.”
“Aw,” Frank drastically whined, “let’s have a pity party.”
“A pity party?” Henry snapped. “Oh grow up, Frank. No one past the third grade uses that saying.”
Sitting in the other chair, Dean snickered. “Henry, look who said it. And that comment surprises you?”
“Shut the fuck up, Dean,” Frank told him. “I let you into my house all evening. What? You don’t have nothing better to do than to hang out here?”
“Actually no,” Dean said. “You have the kids. I’m done with whatever I can do. What else am I going to do? I’m blind, Frank.”
“Yeah, so we’ve been told a million fuckin times, Dean. Take your turn.”
“I’m thinking. And ...” He heard Frank whine. “What?”
“Why are you talking? Move. It’s your turn.” Frank held out his hand and saw as he did, Henry taking another drink. “Why are you drinking, Henry? Give me that.” Frank snatched the bottle from Henry’s lips. “You’re drinking way too much, too fast. You’re gonna get plastered.” Frank brought the bottle to his own lips.
Dean heard the close swishing. “Don’t drink, Frank.”
“Don’t bitch, Dean,” Frank quipped back.
“I’m trying to help. Do your other thing,” Dean told him.
“I could do my other thing, Dean.” Frank set the bottle on the coffee table, and it was quickly snatched back up by Henry. “But my nerves are shot. Here it is after nine, the kids are asleep, I should have my house to myself, but no ... I have Ethel and Lucy sitting right along with me.”
Henry took another long drink. “Which one am I, Frank?”
Frank looked at him. “Which one are you, what?”
“Ethel or Lucy?” Henry asked. “Which one am I?”
“What does it matter?”
“It matters quite a bit, Frank. I don’t want to be Ethel. I don’t think there’s a person on the face of the earth that wants to be Ethel. She was weird.”
“Henry,” Frank yelled at him. “Quiet. Dean’s trying to concentrate. If he doesn’t concentrate, he’ll never take his fuckin turn! God! There should be a time limit. Dean!”
“It’s difficult, Frank.” Dean held up his hand.
Henry shook his head. “Dean, I thought you were a lot smarter than that. Why are you playing Scrabble with Frank?”
“Call it me giving Frank a handicap,” Dean answered.
“But still, Dean, he’ll cheat.”
“So what? He’s helping out. It’s a game, Henry.” Dean became perturbed. “It’s something to do other than getting drunk. Want us to start over and you can play?”
“No,” Henry answered quickly. “I don’t want to play Scrabble with you and Frank. No way. I want to be with Ellen, but she’s on a date with Forrest right now. Did you see her? Not you, Dean, I mean Frank. She was really pretty and she’s being with Forrest.”
Frank snickered. “So.”
“So?” Henry leaned forward, drinking some more. “It’s a date. You don’t care? Both of you don’t care?”
“Henry.” Frank looked at him. “Why would we care? She doesn’t like Forrest that way. He’s old. He’s little. He’s wrinkled. Ellen is the most superficial person I know. If there’s something about your appearance she doesn’t like, she’ll gag.” Frank stole the bottle from Henry and took a drink. “Now that Danny Hoi, he’s the one I’d worry about. He gets out tomorrow. I like the guy and everything, but I will kill him if he moves in on her. He’s stands a good chance. He has that hair-thing going for him.”
Henry breathed heavily outward. “How does he do that? How does he have such good hair? I try, I mean I think I ...” He stopped talking when he saw Frank’s glare and even Dean lifted his head his way. “Never mind.”
“Henry.” Dean fiddled with his tiles. “If you’re so worried about her date, why don’t you go to the Social Hall and intrude?”
“You think I could?” Henry asked, taking another drink.
Both Dean and Frank shouted ‘YES!’ at him.
Henry jumped back in the chair. “OK, OK.” He stood up. “Whoa.” He grabbed his head. “I’m a little dizzy.”
Frank shook his head. “Well float on out of here. Dean! Take your turn!”
“I would, Frank, but Henry had me confused. He broke my concentration.”
“See, Henry.” Frank pointed. “Go, and bring her back here so she can walk home with Dean.”
“I don’t need her to walk home, Frank,” Dean commented.
“No, but it’ll be fun, riding her about Forrest.”
Henry moved to the front door, still holding his bottle. He swayed a little. “I’m leaving. I think, I think I’ll leave my wine here.”
“You do that,” Frank said as he anxiously and impatiently waited for his turn. “Go.” He heard the open and shut of the front door. Henry was gone. “Thank God.” Frank pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. “I’m getting an ashtray. When I get back, you’d better have your tiles down, Dean, or I’m kicking your ass.”
“I got it now. I got it.” Dean felt the board carefully, remembering the words that Frank told him were there. He felt for the letters he needed, then placed down his tiles in the order he had them on his rack. “Done.”
“Good.” Frank laid the ashtray on the table, his cigarette dangled from his mouth. “What the hell is that?”
“Glaze.”
“No it is not. You have ‘gyrza’. That’s not a word, Dean.”
“Frank, you told me what letters I had. I made a mistake. Do I not have the letters to make the word glaze using your ‘Z’?”
Frank pulled at Dean’s rack. “Yeah.”
“So I messed up. Give me a break. I’ll put the right tiles down.”
“No way.”
“No way?”
“Nope.” Frank grabbed a pencil. “You’ll remove the tiles, and then you lose a turn because ‘gyrza’ is not a word. Therefore, I challenge it. Therefore, I get fifty extra points.” Frank made a buzzing sound, then snickered.
“Give me a break, Frank, I’m ...”
“Don’t,” Frank stopped him. “Don’t say it. I’m tired of hearing it. My turn.” Frank grinned widely at him. “Oh, Dean? By the way, in case you’re wondering, I have this gloating look on my face.”
Dean sulked. “The one I hate?”
“That’s the one.” With another short laugh, Frank placed down his tiles to his words, instigating Dean with every wooden piece he put down.
<><><><>
‘This is so neat!’ Ellen thought as she stared at her Frank-voodoo-doll. The little black hairs she collected from the sink plunged nicely into the wax on top of the doll’s head to form black hair and his perfect goatee. Green clothes completed the look. Her Frank-doll was bigger than any other woman’s. Ellen made it that way. It had to be, all except the crouch area. She made that extremely small on purpose just to irk Frank if he ever found it. ‘Neat, really neat.’ She kept thinking as she walked, then she’d respond to Forrest. “A-huh.”
“Uh wuss married foe ... foe-tee years.” Forrest walked side by side with her, his hands behind his back. “Uh em sure you hef felt dat way.”
“A-huh.” Ellen smiled. ‘Wow did
I do a good job.’
“Sometimes loon-lay-ness guts to you und you hef ta rich et ta a nether. Oui?”
“A-huh.” Ellen carefully began to wrap her Frank-doll in a cloth. ‘I have to show this to him. It’s too good.’
“Un you do newt see de person dat you shoe see. Day are rut dear wit you und when you see dem, you know. Do you agree?”
‘I really think I did the best job.’ Ellen smiled again. “A-huh.”
“Uh dink, El-loon, dat you und Uh coo bay a good cup-pal. Do you newt?’
‘No one, no one else’s is this good.’ Ellen proudly finished covering the doll.
“El-loon? You und uh muck a good cup-pal. Oui?”
“A-huh.” With a giggle, Ellen tucked the wrapped doll carefully in the pouch. “Great evening, Forrest.” She rolled her eyes and then fake yawned. “But ...” She stretched out. “I am really beat. Dean is a slave driver you know.”
“Ah oui. Don con bay de wok-a-hell-lick.”
Ellen looked to where they were. Grateful, she saw they were at the edge of the Living Section. “Well, thanks for walking me home. I can make it the rest of the way.”
“Uh woo luck to wok you to you home. Uh woo luck ta comb in. Oui?”
“Uh ... no.” Ellen shook her head. “Not tonight. God.” She pressed her finger to her temple. “I have this pain. I wonder if Frank is sticking a pin in a voodoo doll he made of me?”
“Bay-foe we de-put. May we muv a sum to woot we booth a-grued to?”
“Um ...” Ellen fluttered her lips, clueless. “Sure, Forrest.”
“Ah, El-loon.” His hand reached to her hair as he stepped closer to her. Ellen shrieked loudly, jumping back. “Woot es et?”
“A bug.” She faked shuddered. “I swore I saw a bug.”
“Uh well pro-tucked you.” Another inch to her and Forrest puckered his lips her way.
Trapped! Ellen felt the grip of what he thought was a romantic hold. Was it happening in slow motion? What the hell was she saying ‘A-huh’ to the whole time? What did she agree to? ‘Oh God!’ She squinted, moving back, but Forrest just chased her with those lips. ‘Oh God. Trish put him up to this. I know it.’
The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series Page 307