“Yeah. But you’re missing my point.”
“Dad, you haven’t brought up a point. In all the years I’ve known you, this is the most illogical you have acted.”
“Illogical? I’m acting illogical?” Joe asked sharply. “Illogical is a bunch of goddamn brainless Beginnings people treating George like he never did anything wrong.”
“He’s being a nice guy.”
“Robert.”
“Dad.” Robbie stood up from his chair across from his desk. “Beginnings didn’t forget.”
“They didn’t.”
“George is here for the good of this country. Training our Air Force. Doing right. But don’t think for a second I forgot about the plague he sent on us, the second virus, Frank’s kidnapping, when they tried to kill him, how many fucking times? My arm. Ellen’s kidnapping. Miguel’s death. You. Should I go on? I haven’t forgotten for a single second. And if you think it doesn’t cross my mind why he is being so nice and giving up his presidency so Frank. Frank of all people can run the country. Come on. I’m watching.” Robbie winked. “I’m waiting.”
Joe exhaled. “So you think . . .”
“I think after the Great War is over, he’s going back to his same old shit. I mean, it’s possible.” Robbie stopped when his father grunted. “Hear me out, it is possible he changed. Not probable. Possible. Time will tell and I’ll be ready. Your sons will be ready. But we’re forgetting one important thing.”
“What’s that?”
“It may not matter one bit if George is planning to go back to his old ways. Frank and our people will be working with the Society. How many will turn on us when it’s all said and done.”
“Good point and shit.”
“What?”
Joe nodded forward. “Frank’s coming. I just saw him come over the crest. He’s looking for you. I forgot. I’ll slip out the back. Go out front and stop him.”
“Got it. See ya in a bit.”
‘‘And Robbie.”
“Yeah?”
“When you get a chance. See where his feelings are.”
“You got it.” Robbie walked to the door and opened it.
Frank approached.
“Hey, Frank, looking for me.”
“Whoa.”
“What?”
“I was.”
“I’m cool.”
“You are.”
“So are you Frank.”
“I am.”
Robbie smiled. “What’s up?”
“You’ve been in the field all day. Did you get a chance to hear about that thing the UWA soldier found?”
“Yeah, Elliott said it was some material, Roy’s checking it out.”
“It’s some sort of electronic device. We’re sure of it. We think the future. Way in the future. I think that came with the beam that shot 1000 years in the future.”
“Ok. So mystery solved. Elvis, the Pubes and the device.”
“No, I’m worried.”
“Why?”
“I don’t think we picked up the device. I think we picked up someone or something with that device. My gut is screaming at me. We need to find who or what it was. Because if it made that…” Frank said. “It’s intelligent.”
“So we have the intelligent. Where’s the worry?”
“The scent.”
Robbie tilted his head in wonder.
Frank hesitated. “There’s one scent I know. Here, later, 1000 years in the future. The scent was all over that device, I smelled it. It was holding and working it.”
Robbie’s eyes widened. “LEP scent?”
Frank nodded.
“Fuck.”
“Exactly. And if we picked up a LEP from 1000 years in the future and it’s using that? Robbie, if they’re dangerous now, imagine that with that much intelligence.” Frank paused. “The ultimate fucking predator.”
“I’m gonna take it you didn’t tell anyone else about this?”
“Not yet. Just you.”
“Can I ask why?”
“Because I want you and me to look for it.”
Robbie released a quick peep of a shriek. “Frank, I don’t even go into the Killer Baby region and you want me to go on a hunt for a future, super intelligent, grown up Killer Baby. Who runs faster than 55 MPH and is indestructible along with probably huge. Just the two of us? That’s what you’re saying? That’s what you’re wanting to do?”
“Yes.”
Robbie shrugged. “Ok, I’m game.”
****
Twenty-seven miles outside of Bowman was a field over grown with beautiful wild flowers and rose bushes, and surrounded with trees. It was the punishment field.
When someone did something disrespectful within the ranks of the UWA they were sent to the field to pick . . . flowers for the women.
To some that wasn’t too bad of a punishment, for others it was a task, considering things were just starting to grow. It was bad enough that when you couldn’t find flowers you had to be creative, but then you had to take it to the House of Women for approval.
The Flower Soldier on punishment for that day was a young man of twenty-five. He was caught drawing pictures of Elliott Ryder during class. Innocent doodles and comments that Elliott didn’t find funny. Such as him wearing leather and collars controlled by the Captain. Wearing ‘I wanna be Frank’ tee shirts. The Captain chuckled, and if Frank saw them, as president he would overrule the punishment.
But Elliott was exercising his authority and outranked the lowly soldier, sending him out the field to pick a beautiful bouquet of dried weeds.
But Flower Soldier trudged on. He missed the math and art class and that was fine with him. He just wished he could be there when the Oodles of Dan Noodles were fresh.
He caught the pink of it sticking up within the field about twenty yards from him and knew that would be one flower the women would love.
He swore he saw the grass moving as well, but dismissed it as an under breeze, if that was even possible.
Nearing the flower he heard the snort.
Wild boar?
Cautious, Flower Soldier edged on. For sure he saw the grass move, but that was the last thing he saw.
Whatever it was came out of nowhere, fast, furious and vicious.
Flower Soldier was no more.
****
“Take a nap, Elliott,” Hal told him with a chuckle. “You look worn and you’ll need it.”
“Captain, I doubt a nap will help my mood.”
“Don’t you think you are over reacting about this?”
“No.”
“I wouldn’t let the women see this though, they may accept anything he gives them.”
“This is a serious case of disrespect.”
“Elliott.”
“No, Captain. Forgive me, but would you be laughing and thinking it was so funny if it were you being portrayed as a Frank wanna be and as my bitch.”
“Your bitch, Elliott, please.”
“Captain, you’re pulling on my collar in one picture.”
‘It was well done.”
“But you wouldn’t think it was funny if it were reversed.”
“No, but it wasn’t reversed, it wasn’t me, it was you. Get over it and get a nap.”
“Why do you keep telling me that?” Elliott asked.
“Because you’ll want to stay up all night.”
“Why am I staying up all night? On patrol.”
“Yes, at the cemetery.”
He tilted his head with curiosity. “Cemetery? Why would I . . .” A pause and revelation, horror took over Elliott’s expression. “No.”
“Yes.”
“Are you insane?”
“No.” Hal stood. “I am determined.”
“Captain, please, please explain to me why you are so adamant and believe that your father is alive and living in Beginnings.”
“Shall I list?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.” Hal sat back down. “Let’s start with the missing invisible suit. How
about Robbie? Robbie? Distraught, devastated, determined to find my father’s killer. Then suddenly, he becomes focused, digging up my father’s grave. What did he learn? What in the world would cause my brother to dig up my father’s grave, then after that, the investigation went out the window. My father’s prints Elliott on the detonation device. Robbie talks about my father often in present tense. Let’s not forget the incredible ghostly experience. Robbie is the whole key though.” Hal waved a finger then stood again, beginning to pace. “His whole attitude has changed. We spoke once about my father’s passing and he said, ‘You’ll have that.’ I’ll have that? Good God. Frank hears my father? We all know Frank reads mind. Last but not least, the floating head. Why is everyone seeing the floating head? I’ll tell you why? My father doesn’t have the hood on the invisible suit.’
“Why would he fake his death?”
“Because I believe he found out that he did something wrong in the future. Something that influenced the Great War negatively and against us. Something that maybe Frank or myself would have handled differently. So he faked his death to not have interference.”
“I see.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” Elliott said. “And you bring up valid argument. Very valid arguments.”
“Thank you.”
“And I would support you, one hundred and fifty percent if it weren’t for one thing.”
“What is that?”
“You, me, Robbie, Jimmy, Frank. Saw your father’s dead body.”
Hal nodded. “Why do you think Robbie went to the cemetery? Why do you think we are going?”
“Oh my God.”
“Elliott, stranger things have happened.” Hal tossed out his hands. “Good Lord, Frank is turning twelve page children’s books into 75 page screenplays. He is writing a novel, Elliott, it’s got to be a hundred pages so far. A hundred pages, claims,” Hal took on a sarcastic and irritated tone. “It’s writing itself.”
Elliott released a single chuckle. “And I suppose you are going to blame that on your father as well.”
“Why would I . . .” Hal stopped. “His eyes grew wide. Oh my God.”
“What?”
“He said it’s writing itself. Thank you Elliott.”
“Captain?”
Hal walked by him to the door. “I’ll meet you later, take a nap. I forgot something in the truck. Something I now have to look at.”
Hal walked out.
Elliott’s shoulder’s dropped. “Great I made it worse.”
****
Hal didn’t think twice about it and actually felt guilty about leaving Frank’s manuscript in the truck. But he was glad he took it.
He didn’t think much about Frank’s comment when he said it. All writers, Hal included have said those same words over and over.
“The book writes itself.”
But it was Frank. Frank wrote ‘Frank’s Day Out’.
Now he was writing screenplays and novels.
Maybe he was struck with an amazing ability. But just something so innocent about the conversation Hal had with his brother and in recanting it in his mind, it seemed more and more possible that Frank was being the ‘literal’ guy he claimed to be. Literal about the book writing itself.
A part of it made Hal chuckle.
What if Joe was finishing everything Frank started? He was being a ghost writer.
It was not only possibly, but probable.
And if his father was indeed ghost writing, would his father stay in Frank style? Or would he write it himself.
An immediate flashback of high school came to Hal when Frank was doing something for his father and his father had to finish Frank’s essay. Joe followed Frank’s writing style, bettering it some, but tried as best as he could to stay in the same mindset.
It was twisted, demented and funny, and that memory prompted Hal to open the envelope.
There was only one way to make a determination and that was read it.
Of course the number of typed pages told Hal a lot.
He looked at the title page.
“Huh?”
Hal cocked an eyebrow, placed on his glasses, poured a drink, sipped and readied himself to read Frank’s manuscript entitled, ‘I am Frank.’
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ellen gasped in a ‘Take my breath’ away manner, sighing out, and laying the last page on the bed.
“Frank.” She stood up, hand on her chest.
“You liked it?”
“Oh my God. It was awesome.”
“You mean it?”
“Yes. Yes. I want more.”
“There are no more pages El.”
“There’s more to the story, right?”
Frank shrugged.
Ellen waved out her hand. “Of course not, you just want to leave us your readers in a cliff hanger.”
“I guess. I don’t know. It writes itself.”
“Well, I can tell. Your writing voice is so you and … wow.”
Frank smiled. “Glad you liked it.”
“Frank. It’s unbelievable. What a concept for the story.”
“Yeah, it just came to me.” He snapped his finger. “Then it just wrote itself. I mean, I interjected here and there . . .”
“I know what you mean.”
“Better than Frank’s Day Out?”
“Well, that story had its merit, and it was all ages. But this... you are gonna show you are not a one hit wonder with your first book. You are the apocalypse Stephen King.”
Frank grinned wide.
“Why didn’t you tell me about you writing?”
“I didn’t want you to get mad that I was spending time in the office writing.”
“I would have understood. I would have asked for pages to read as you were writing it.”
“That’s fast reading.”
“I just want to read it again.”
“I was worried you wouldn’t like it, especially since Hal asked if I was using a spell check.”
“You aren’t?” Ellen asked.
“No.”
“Then it’s even more amazing. Frank, today that new game show starts, and you’re gonna win.”
“Fuckin right.”
“And after everyone reads this book, there will be no doubt, you are Beginnings Most Smartest Hero.”
He did his typical, one side of his mouth smile, then leaned into Ellen with an, “I am”, pulling her close and kissing her. After he stepped back an inch and tilted his head. “Wonder what Hal thinks.”
****
“Oh My God.” Hal leaned back in his desk, hand over mouth, pages of Frank’s book before him.
A knock caused him to raise his views. “Yes.”
“Captain,” Elliott walked in. “Guess what I did.”
“What is that?”
“I slept last night. You never called.”
“I was reading Elliott. First I read Frank’s book, then his script, then I read his book again.”
“That good?” Elliot asked.
“No, that Frank.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s twisted. It’s demented. It sounds like my brother talking. It’s typical of his unoriginality and ability to make it his own. It’s a huge plagiarism parody rip off of a legendary novel.”
“So then you don’t think your father wrote it?”
“I didn’t say that.” Hal waved a finger.
“But you just said it sounded like Frank talking, it’s typical Frank.”
Hal nodded, and collected the manuscript. “Yes, it is. It’s also at least 40,000 words long, and I also know my brother’s vocabulary consists of, ‘Oh yeah’, ‘Absolutely’, ‘I am’, and ‘Fuck’. There’s no way my brother knows 40,000 words.” He handed Elliott the manuscript. “Since you’re well rested. Read. Take a few hours and read it.”
“I . . . I actually would like to.” Elliott glanced at the title page. “I am Frank?”
Hal gave an assured nod. “Exactly.”
“Is it just like . . .?”
“In a twisted way.”
“So it’s a parody.”
“Exactly.”
Elliott looked down at the pages again. “Oh my God.”
Hal grinned arrogantly. “Exactly.”
****
Dean truly thought the rules and regulations to ‘Beginnings Most Smartest Hero’ would be far more interesting to read, than Frank’s new book. But because he didn’t want to get too trampled on by Frank questions, he decided to take a few hours to read it. After all it was only 150 pages.
He chuckled every time he thought of it.
Ellen’s enthusiastic, “Dean,” caught his attention in the lab, as his hand rested on the thick document.
“What’s up, El.”
“Frank wrote a book.” She gushed.
“Yeah, I know.” Dean lifted it.
“What? He gave you a copy, too.”
“He said he made four copies. Gave one to you, me, Hal, and Jenny Matoose.”
Ellen crossed her arms. “That sucks.”
“What does?”
“I thought I was special.”
Dean smiled. “You are. But, you know, Frank, he’s covering his bases.”
“Ok. I won’t feel too dejected. Oh my God, can you believe he’s a writer now. Wow.”
Dean chuckled. “He’s entertaining El.”
“So you read it?”
“Yep.”
“It’s brilliant.”
Dean laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far. Brilliant? El, come on, it’s just Frank. Although I can’t believe he is writing novels now.”
“Me either. I am so proud.”
“Um, yeah, me too.” Dean scratched his head.
“You’re not mad at him, are you?”
“For what? The way he portrayed me? Nah. I’m fine with it. He’s Frank.”
“I am.” Frank’s voice entered the lab.
Dean tossed out his hand. “Hence the name of his book.”
Ellen grinning spun around. “Dean and I were talking about your novel.” She walked up to him. “I have to get to work. Again, I’m proud of you.” Tip toeing, she kissed him.
“I’ll be over in a bit,” Frank said.
“Ok, love you Mr. Author.”
Unseen to Ellen or Frank, Dean rolled his eyes as he replaced the manuscript back in the envelope.
“So you liked it?” Frank asked.
“What made you write this book?”
“You didn’t like it?”
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