The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  “You do?” Miguel seemed surprised.

  “Yes, and I have to tell you I was a bit disappointed that you never came to read the Bible with me. I thought you lost faith.”

  “Oh never.” Miguel shook his head. “I have lots of faith.”

  “We can share our faith.” Andrea took his hand. “Oh Miguel, I would like to share that with you. I miss being close to someone. I miss having that companionship. So you suppose we could be like that?”

  “I would love to be like that.”

  “Oh good.” She stood up. “Then we’ll get married. Let’s go tell everyone and we’ll make George do it.”

  “Married?” Miguel jumped to his feet. “You want to marry me. It is not sudden?”

  Andrea slowed in her race to the door. “No, we’ve known each other over a year and ... oh. You don’t want to marry me.”

  “No, I do.” Miguel rushed to her. “It is much more than I expected. Here I was only hoping for a thank you. This is much better. Much, much better.” Miguel grinned. “Marriage.”

  “Shall we go tell everyone? They’re all at the Social Hall.”

  “Yes.”

  Like two excited teenagers, hand and hand, Andrea and Miguel darted from the living section to the Social Hall. They stopped at the closed door.

  Andrea heard the loud music. “Sounds like a party.”

  “We can add to their fun.”

  “Let’s.” With exuberance and ready to shout out, Andrea pushed open the Social Hall door and blasted in. At the same time, Miguel and she both stopped cold. Andrea’s eyes moved around the Social Hall. Joe and George sat at the bar before Sam, engrossed in a hand waving conversation. Stan and Dirk played darts. John Matoose and Henry were involved in a game of pool. Jonas beat the hell out of the pinball machine. Then Andrea’s eyes went to the clothes on the floor and they led like a trail to Jenny. Wearing bright pink old-lady style underwear and a support bra, Jenny, wiggling, rolled seductively across the jukebox flinging her head back and lifting her leg in a kick. When she brought her head up, her red hair across her face, she looked to see if she had caught anyone’s attention yet, and she did, finally. But it wasn’t the audience she wanted. Andrea stood before her, one eyebrow raised in a motherly glare, extending out her clothes to Jenny.

  CHAPTER TEN

  July 8 - Beginnings, Montana

  “Dean. Dean. Dean.” Ellen followed him like a puppy as Dean whizzed about the lab. “Dean.”

  “Dean.” William yelled from the other end of the room. “Answer her.”

  “Dean. Dean.”

  “El.” Dean spun to her. “In case you haven’t noticed I’m really not speaking to you.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “I’d like to know that too,” William questioned.

  “Dad, please.” Dean widened his eyes to Ellen. “I think you know.”

  “No, I don’t.” Ellen chased him. “Tell me. Dean. Tell me. Dean. Dean. Dean. Tell me Dean. Dean ...”

  “Ellen!” Dean snapped. “I don’t think I need to.”

  “I think you do. What did I do?”

  Dean walked away from her and laughed.

  “Well, if you aren’t going to tell her,” William said, “can you at least tell me why my fingers are cramping? Why in God’s name do we need this many packages of sutures. No one gets hurt.”

  “Dad, just make them.”

  “Dean,” Ellen called him again. “Are you going to tell me why you haven’t said anything since last night?”

  “Bingo.” Dean nodded.

  “Oh, that says a lot.” Ellen tossed her hands up.

  “You wanna know?” Dean moved closer to her.

  “Yeah, I wanna know.”

  “You really want to know?”

  “Dean!” William finally had enough. “She said she wants to know. And so do I.”

  “Fine.” Dean’s hand slammed on the counter. “You were kissing Frank last night.”

  “I was not.”

  “You were.”

  “Did you see us?” Ellen asked.

  “No.”

  “Then I wasn’t. There, is that why you’re mad? God, you get upset over nothing.”

  “Nothing!” Dean’s voice raised high. “Ellen, I saw him. He was pulling you to him. What was that?”

  “He ... he ...”

  Dean folded his arms in anticipation of her answer.

  “Frank was telling me a secret. So there.”

  “What?” Dean laughed in ridicule. “You expect me to believe that one?”

  “I do,” William commented. “Sounds good to me. Now can you stop being mad at her.”

  “No!” Dean yelled. “She’s lying!”

  Ellen gasped so loud it rang across the room. “I am not lying! I cannot believe you are standing here accusing me of lying. I was not kissing Frank last night and that’s the truth. And ...” She marched to the door. “I’m late for cursing the canning, but let me leave you with something Dean Hayes.” Ellen pointed, one eye closed with a mean look, as she prepared to make her dramatic exit. “I was not lying to you. I will not forget this. I won’t. You are going to have to get over this two bit jealousy and insecurity thing you have about Frank because I will not live my life being examined under a microscope like one of your experiments. You have hurt my feelings. So there.” She spun, tossing her head back, and marched from the lab.

  William hid his chuckle. “So there.” He pointed to where Ellen was.

  “Don’t.” Dean held up his hand and returned to his work. “I know what I saw.” He flipped open a folder and hesitated. He ran his hand through his hair then down his face. “Or at least I think I know. I don’t know.” He grumbled in frustration and tried to get back into a work mode.

  <><><><>

  Joe facially cringed, blocking out the headache that pounded at him. He moved quickly from town at a steady pace, hoping to lose Andrea who kept right up with him. “Andrea. Drop it.”

  “I will not drop it.” Her head bobbed as she moved. “You lead this community ...”

  “Oh I do not.”

  “I beg to differ, Joseph, You lead this community and you best establish some ground rules. Alcohol should not be distributed to minors,” Andrea argued.

  “She is eighteen years old, Andrea. If she wants a drink, what the hell am I gonna do? I let my boys drink at eighteen.”

  “Oh!” Andrea gasped out. “Then you broke the law.”

  “If they were old enough to serve their country, they were old enough to have a beer.”

  “This is not the old world, Joe.”

  Joe stopped and spun to face Andrea. “No it is not. It’s a dead world, Andrea, and who the hell cares if she has a drink.”

  “You should. You are the father of this community.”

  “I am the father of two moronic sons and a flighty daughter. I don’t need any more children, thank you very much.”

  “She was naked, Joe.”

  “And no one paid one bit of attention to her.” Joe waved his finger. “No one. Now if you have anything pressing to bring to my attention, then you tell me. If not, I have work to do. We’re making runs tomorrow and we have preparations to make. The last thing I need is a headache brought on by a morally righteous woman who should just be minding her own business.” Joe turned and walked some more.

  “I will tell my Miguel how you spoke to me.”

  “You tell him.” Joe kept going.

  “Someone has to watch out for our young! Make sure they are brought up right!” Andrea screamed. “It is our responsibility as elders to do so! We have a new world to make! The Bible says so!”

  Joe winced, stopped again, and marched back to her. “The Bible doesn’t state jack about a plague ravished world and this is not the book of Revelation.” He calmed himself. “O.K. Suppose you’re right. Suppose we should make sure they’re better than us. You think you’re qualified. Then you do it. You do it. There you have it. That’s your new job. You wanna stop her from
drinking? Stop her. You wanna stop her from stripping? You stop her. But I have other things to worry about. All right? Put a chastity belt on her. Picket the goddamn Social Hall for all I care, but just don’t come to me with this shit anymore.”

  “I don’t like your Heathen attitude.”

  “Andrea, come on.” Joe shook his head.

  “I know why you’re being like this with me.” Andrea folded her arms. “You’re jealous of Miguel. He should be the one leading this community. He has morals like myself.”

  “Oh please. And before you go any further with this holier than thou attitude, you better stop and look at your own sins little lady. I’m not the holy ruler, Bible thumper, who tossed myself into an illicit, premarital, one night stand. Now, am I?”

  “Sweet Jesus.”

  “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.” Joe nodded. “Now can we stop this bickering?”

  “No. We will never stop bickering.”

  “Fine. Bicker alone. I’m a busy man.” Joe turned, ignoring Andrea’s huff, and walked away, leaving her just standing there.

  <><><><>

  “All right. O.K.” Robbie walked with Frank. “So we went a little crazy.”

  “No, we did not go crazy Robbie. We did our job. We just did too much.”

  “So why is Dad bitching.”

  “Dad has always bitched.”

  “It’s not like we can’t fix it.” Robbie paused and slowed down when they reached the area near the back gate. He scratched his head. “Can we fix it, Frank?”

  “Um ... .” Frank tossed his hands up. “I don’t see why not. But we did good.”

  “We did real good.”

  “Too bad it won’t work for an armory hatch.”

  “Yeah.” Robbie peered down. “It would work for a pool.”

  Frank laughed and then a huge grin crossed his face. “Or ...” Frank leaped forward into the huge hole that Robbie and he had been working on for a week. Squared out and deep, it was supposed to be three feet by six feet and ended up being three times bigger. Frank landed softly on his feet and sunk into the mud that had formed in the four foot huge ditch. “Hey Robbie. The pit.”

  “The pit.” Robbie smiled. “Yeah.”

  Frank stomped his boot. “The ground is soft too. What do you say?”

  “I say ...” Robbie backed up. “Watch out.” He charged forward with a scream and flew his body downward into the pit at Frank.

  <><><><>

  “So then Lady Chatterly goes ...” Jenny stopped telling her story. “John, are you listening to me?”

  “Um ... yeah. Who was chatting?” John hunched down by a bush.

  “Lady Chatterly.”

  “Who is that?”

  “A woman like myself. A woman in search of true love and . . “ Jenny softened her voice. “Sexuality.”

  “Found one.” John emerged from the bush. “Open that bag wider.”

  “Sure.” Jenny made a facial cringe when she opened the large sack she carried. “Whew.”

  In his gloved hand, John held a dead rabbit. “Look. He’s been dead for a while.” John flipped the rabbit back and forth then tossed it in the sack. “That poison Dean makes works good.”

  “We shouldn’t be killing them.”

  “We have to kill them.” John told her. “If we don’t, we’ll get over run and they’ll eat our food.”

  “Why don’t we eat them?”

  “There’s too many to be bothered with skinning and gutting every one.”

  “Oh.”

  “Is that getting heavy?”

  “No.” Jenny shook her head. ‘There’s only eight in there. Anyhow, as I was saying, Lady Chatterly goes to her gardener and he ...” Jenny huffed in irritation when she heard the loud male scream. “What was that?”

  “Sounded like Robbie.” John took off running in the direction he heard the scream. He raced up the small grade toward the back gate and stopped cold when he got to the top. “Oh my God.”

  Out of breath, Jenny caught up to him, “Oh no.”

  John hunched in pain and he wasn’t the one getting it, when he watched Robbie, with a branch, crack Frank hard on the back with it. “Shit.” Trembling, John grabbed the radio from his belt. “Joe, anyone, come in. I need help at the back gate region. Frank and Robbie ... ow.” He cringed when he saw Frank ram Robbie face first into the dirt wall. “They’ll killing each other up here. It’s a blood bath.”

  Jenny shrieked some when she watched Frank climb out of the hole then raise his arms up, leap back in, and land on Robbie. “Can’t you stop them?”

  John only shifted his eyes to her.

  Miguel, Henry, and Jonas all arrived within seconds of each other.

  “There.” John pointed.

  Miguel shook his head. “They are brothers. What is the matter with them? Henry, help me.”

  “Oh, you know what.” Henry shook his head. “They’re awfully big. Maybe we should just ... hey!” Henry screamed when Miguel tugged him.

  Jenny looked at John and Jonas. “Aren’t you two going to help Miguel and Henry?”

  “Jenny.” Jonas stated her name. “Look at me. Do I look like I can help Miguel and Henry?”

  “What’s going on?” Joe called out in question as he finally arrived to the grade.

  “Joe.” Jenny indicated to where Frank and Robbie now threw punches. “They’re killing each other.”

  Joe observed. He saw Miguel and Henry nearing the pit and he saw Frank, in a run toward Robbie, extend out his arm and clothes line his younger brother. “Christ, they aren’t killing each other. The assholes are wrestling.”

  “Knock it off!” Miguel called out jumping into the mud filled pit. “Now!” He grabbed Robbie who had Frank in a head lock. “Henry, grab Frank.”

  “No.” Henry was in the pit, but stayed at his distance. “You’re doing good.”

  Miguel gave a toss to Robbie and a shove to Frank. “What is wrong with you? You are brothers. You shouldn’t be tearing each other apart like this. Brothers do not fight with fist. It is wrong. Do you know that?”

  Frank nodded. “Yes.”

  Miguel looked at Robbie. “Brothers should speak out their anger not fight. Right?”

  Out of breath, Robbie agreed. “Oh yeah.”

  “Then it is settled.” Miguel stepped out of the way. “What do you two have to say to each other?”

  Frank sniffed and wiped the blood that poured from his nose. He held his hand up high to Robbie. “Oh yeah, Miguel and Henry are here. Battle Royal.”

  After a quick, muddy, splashy high five to Frank, Robbie spun and moved to Henry who was trying to make an escape, at the same time, Frank tackled Miguel.

  Happy laughter, along with a few screams of agony carried up to Joe on the top of that grade. Watching for a second, Joe turned and started to walk away.

  “Joe,” John called him. “Aren’t you gonna stop them?”

  “Nah.” Joe waved out his hand. “There just having fun, that’s all. They’ll stop when someone really gets hurt.”

  John’s eyes widened and he turned back to view the bloody, muddy, wrestling match where the Slagel Brothers proceeded to turn the pit into the own tag team wrestling ring and Miguel and Henry into their unwitting opponents. “That ... that does not look fun.”

  “I agree,” Jonas said. “Nothing would make me run down there and get abused like that.”

  “Me either.”

  “John? Jonas?” Jenny spoke their names in a school-girl flirtatious manner. “I know a way we can have some fun in the mud.” She winked three or four times at them.

  John quickly spun to Jonas. “I think Henry and Miguel need some outside interference.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “Let’s go,” John suggested.

  “I’m right behind you.”

  “Hey!” Jenny called out. “I was talking!” She watched John and Jonas race as fast as they could toward the pit and she was totally dumbfounded on why the
y did that.

  <><><><>

  Ellen rolled her eyes in disgust as she tossed a peeled tomato into the big bowl in front of her. “I swear.” She picked tomato skin from her finger nails. “If I never see another tomato as long as I live, I’ll be a happy camper.”

  “Aw comb now dumpkin.” Dirk said, tomato juice running down his finger. “Ya act as if es aw that bad. Et ain’t aw that bad now is it Thelma.”

  “Ain’t all that bad.” Thelma dropped a peeled tomato in her bowl. “And I cain’t see what may-tearing has ta go and do with campin anyhow.”

  “Aw now what is wrong with you, woman? She ain’t talking about no campin trip. She’s making a figger a speech. I swore some time you’s as holler as a nutshell.”

  “Dirk Jefferson Wilson the Third, how am I s’pose ta know she’s using a figger a speech.”

  “Jus got ta pay attention. Ya ain’t never paid attention to nothin your whole life.”

  “Aw now that ain’t true.” Thelma looked at Ellen. “It ain’t true. He’s just a hard headed old fool.”

  Ellen took a deep breath and slowly peeled another tomato. “What are we gonna do with all these tomatoes we’re canning and I’m cursing?”

  “Thar ya go again.” Dirk pointed at Ellen. “Goin off an talkin about that cur-sin stuff gain. You got to know what we’re doing. Press-or-vay-shin. That’s what it is. May-ters to last a lifetime.”

  “For what?” Ellen asked. “We can’t slice them a put them on a sandwich. And there’s only so much you can do with ...” She looked around the empty house they were in, the house used for canning. Boxes of mason jars were around. “A thousand jars of tomatoes.”

  “Saws.” Thelma nodded “You can use them in saws.”

  “Nut-tin like a good batch of saws.” Dirk agreed. “Gotta lota may-ters for that.”

  “I make a good batch of saws,” Thelma said.

  “Says who?”

  “Says anyone in Dairy who ate my saws.”

  “Then them was lyin to you.”