“Ellen?” Joe called her. “I thought you were home for the night.”
“I was, but Dean radioed me. He said if I didn’t want to miss it, I had to come back.”
He didn’t want to show his curiosity but Joe couldn’t help it. “Miss what?”
At the door, Ellen paused. “Josephine has a big splinter in her butt we have to take out. It’s so monumental, Dean says it’s actually photograph worthy.”
Joe turned his head.
Robbie laughed. “Oh, wow. I would love to see that.”
“Robert.”
Ellen smiled. “Really? I can ask her to come and show you.”
“Nah, that’s . . .” Robbie grinned.
“Robert,” Joe warned.
“Could you, El?” Robbie asked. “That would make me feel so much better.”
“Absolutely. I’m sure she will.” Ellen smiled. “Night.”
Joe looked at the door and watched Ellen disappeared. He looked back to Robbie who had an ‘out there’ smile and look on his face. “I know in that stoned state you’ll find demented humor in seeing Josephine’s ass, but do I need to be subject to that?”
“Dad. Yeah.” Robbie snickered. “It’s monumental.”
Joe bobbed his head from side to side. “Well, yes, you have a point.”
The immaturity that Dean and Ellen showed was evident in their childish giggling. In a hover into each other at the far back counter, they laughed.
“God, E,.” Dean spoke in a whisper. “It didn’t even dawn on me when Frank walked in here. I was in doctor mode.”
“I wish I would have seen his face. What was he doing here?”
“He said . . .” The smile dropped immediately from Dean’s face when he remembered what Frank told him.
“What’s wrong?”
“Um, nothing.” He shook his head. “Something just popped into my mind.”
“Gee, thanks. I thought I had your complete attention.”
“Always.” Dean slipped his hand behind Ellen’s neck and began to kiss her.
“What is it about this lab and you?” Ellen asked through his kisses.
A double knock on the archway of the lab door separated Dean and Ellen. Forrest stood there.
“Don. El-loon.” Forrest walked in. “I um ear for my shift.”
Running his hand over his lip, Dean smiled. “Good. Just in time.”
“For?” Forrest asked.
Dean pointed to a staggering, slanted Josephine who stood behind him.
“Ah.” Forrest smiled. “The pick-chair of beauty.”
After a hiccup, Josephine giggled. “Aren’t you the suave one, Tree.” She winked and looked at Dean. “Hey, Skippy. I’m ready. I did my peep show for the Slagel perverts. Yep.” She nodded. “I know what was running through their minds. Good thing I stayed on the safe side of that Robbie’s bed. I couldn’t reach out and grab . . .”
“Hey,” Dean interrupted. “That is so wrong that you said that.”
Josephine flipped him off. “Are we gonna do this or what? I’m toasted. Let’s go.” She twitched her head to the left and fell into the doorway. “See?”
Forrest grabbed her. “Are you ah rut?”
“Just fine there, Tree,” Josephine told him. “Skippy!” she yelled.
Ellen couldn’t look. She laughed and turned her back. “I don’t know if I can assist.”
Dean whispered, “I don’t know if I can even do it. Forrest.” Dean looked brightly. “Forrest, it appears Josephine has a large splinter in her . . .”
“Ass,” Josephine completed the sentence. “It has to come out. It hurts like a bitch.”
Forrest’s eyes widened and after a quick blush of surprise, he smiled awkwardly at Josephine. “You poor woo-man.”
“Yeah.” Josephine nodded. “I can’t sit on my stool so can one of you wanna-bes take it out or else I’m gonna have to run back over to the Hall and have a few more.”
Dean looked at his watch. “I really should get home. Forrest, could you?”
“Don. I wooed rather note.” Forrest answer. “Boot, I will if you incest. Et is your clin-nook. No.”
“I do insist,” Dean smiled. “I’m exercising my authority. Ellen? Are you staying or going?”
“Um . . .” Ellen looked at Forrest and then to a slanted Josephine. “Oh, Dean, visually this will be a good one.”
“O.K. I’ll see you at home.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Night.” He walked across the lab. “Thanks, Forrest.”
“Do note men-shoon it, Don.” Forrest waved then returned to awaiting Josephine. “Shall we?”
“Absolutely,” Josephine said with a hiccup. “Is the bimbo coming?”
Turning around and biting her bottom lip to hold in her laugh, Ellen nodded “Yes, I’ll be there in a second.”
“I will prep de pay-shunt.” Forrest led a leading hand on Josephine’s back. “You will brung the soup-plies? Oui?”
“Um, sure.” Ellen smiled. “I’ll be right there.” Dean pretty much had the tray for the procedure all ready, but Ellen stayed behind for a second after they left. Not only did she have to mentally prepare herself for the procedure, she wanted to find the instant camera to visually document it. She searched the drawers and finally found it. With a smile on her face, she picked up the procedure tray and began to head out. She stopped cold in the hall when she looked at the camera. “Shit,” she spoke softly. “It’s empty.” Thinking ‘film’, Ellen remembered the extra packets were not kept in the clinic lab. After a debate in her mind on whether to seek out film, Ellen decided that the case warranted medical recording for future reference books. With that in mind, she dropped off the procedure tray for Forrest and headed to the stash place to get more film.
^^^^
Richie Martin screamed. His words were muffled under the hood of the copy machine, his lips pressed tightly to the glass. “Frank. Stop.” His legs kicked out.
“Richie, hold it. This is a test.” Using the weight of his leg, he pinned Richie more. “Fuckin button won’t work.” With one hand holding Richie’s head, Frank used his free hand to press the ‘C’ button. “Fuck. It won’t. . . . Oh! Shit. I got it.” With a shift of his finger. “Never mind. That was the ‘clear’ button. There.”
After a press of the button and a flash of the photocopier, Richie shrieked. He let out a strangulation breath as Frank released him. “That was . . . it was . . . you messed my hair, Frank.” Richie smacked himself on the top of the head and rolled his chin against his shoulder. “Bas . . . Bastard.”
“Yeah, but your hair looks good. See.” Frank handed him the copy. “And you helped me figure it out. Thanks.”
Richie, with a tilted head, peered at the self portrait. “Yeah. I do look good. Who am I gonna give it to Frank, who? Who do you think? Frank? Frank? Frank?”
“Fuck. What?” Frank had his eyes on the copier.
“Who am I gonna give it to?”
“Um. Hal.”
“Oh, yeah. I like Hal.” Richie smiled. “He’s . . . He’s nice.”
“He dresses like a pansy though.”
“No.” Richie shook his head. It swung out of control. “Hal’s nice. Yeah. I’ll sign it for him. Should I write him a note?”
“Yeah. A love note,” Frank told him.
“O.K. I like Hal.” Richie said. “Robbie too. Robbie’s nice. Joe’s he’s . . . he’s . . . “
“Mean.”
Richie gasped. “No. But yeah, Joe’s mean, sometimes. Yeah. Not all the time. You’re nice Frank.”
“I am.”
“And . . .”
“Richie,” Frank spoke pulling out the ballot. “I have a lot of work to do.”
“O.K., I . . . I’ll let you go. You’re nice. Hal’s nice. Johnny’s nas . . . nasty. Yuck.”
Quickly Frank looked at him. “Johnny’s nasty? Why?”
“He . . . He made me, made me, he . . . made . . .”
“Richie.” Frank held in his laughter, visualizing Jo
hnny making Richie do something dumb. “Go. I have a lot of copies to make. Work on that love note for Hal. Tell him all about what Johnny made you do.”
“O.K.,” Richie nodded fast. “How’s my hair, Frank? Robbie says always ask.” He rolled his chin on his shoulder.
“Perfect.”
“Yeah, Robbie’s nice. So are you. Hal’s swell. Johnny’s . . . Johnny’s . . .”
“Nasty,” Frank nodded with a wink.
“Yeah.” Richie walked to the door of Ellen’s office. “I’ll work on that note.”
“Love note!” Frank corrected as Richie left. “O.K.” He exhaled. “Now it’s time to work.” He lifted the lid and laid down the paper.” Shutting the lid, Frank found the correct button and pressed. He watched the scan light flash and move then, with a turn of his head to the left, he watched the paper copy come out. He checked it, made sure it was good, and set it back in the tray. “That’s one.” Again, Frank pressed the button, observed the flash move, and watched the copy come out. “Two.” With a heavy breath, he pressed the copy button again. “Thanks, Dad. This is gonna take fuckin forever.” He saw the copy emerge. “Three.”
^^^^
The song wasn’t of his time or era but probably Johnny knew it from the amount of times he heard his Uncle Robbie play it. Walking to Joe’s office, Johnny couldn’t help but reflect on the one line from the song American Pie. The line, ‘the day the music died’ was so fitting for Beginnings and its overhanging demeanor.
Dead.
Overwhelmed with grief and loss, no one buzzed about. The streets were empty and the guards moved slowly. It was like a ghost town and Johnny took advantage of that.
Usually he would have to wait until two or three in the morning to try his routine ‘code busting’ on the one and only phone in Beginnings, but with things as low key as they were, Johnny went early.
Has usual, he wasted no time in retrieving the phone in the dark office. He didn’t need a light. The moon always cast enough and any light would send a sign that he was there.
He had the phone out, turned on, and in his hand. Johnny looked at his list of number sequences to try. Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep. Four numbers, wrong code, so he tried again. He was determined and figured a four digit wouldn’t be all that hard to hit. One of those night he tried, he would break it. It was Johnny’s lucky night. About the sixth time he broke through. “Yes,” he whispered out and immediately dialed. “Ring, please, ring. Yes.” He leaned back in Joe’s chair. The excitement of the other line being answered caused Johnny to spring forward with his elbows on Joe’s desk and he grasped that phone like a lifeline. His breath out was loud and quick. “George, it’s me, Johnny . . .”
Beep.
Johnny’s heart sunk when the phone was rapidly pulled from his hand and shut off. Who? He wondered and after the light turned and a floorboard creaked, he saw.
Ellen.
Slowly Johnny’s eyes lifted to her.
Ellen stared. Confusion was all over her face as she held that phone. “What . . . what are doing, Johnny?”
At that second in time, Johnny swore his heart pounded in his ears. He felt hot and his very skin trembled. All that raced through Johnny’s mind was how long it would take for him to kill her right then and there. Could he do it with little sound or would a guard be in too close of range if she screamed.
“Johnny,” she whispered out.
“It’s not . . . it’s not what you think.”
Ellen closed her eyes. “Oh my God. Please tell me you aren’t an insider for the Society.”
Right there, Johnny almost laughed. He chuckled inside as he recanted her words in his memory. He wondered if she was as stupid as his father to even think he would answer that honestly. And he had to wonder, if he said ‘no’, would she buy it? Johnny swallowed and saddened the look on his face. “No.”
“If you’re not, then why . . .” Painfully she looked away. “Why were you calling George?”
“You’re not going to believe me.” Johnny waited for Ellen to say something but she only stared. “See, El.” Johnny whimpered to add effect. “Oh God.” He buried his face in his hands. “I . . . George called me. He called me a while ago. He called me, El. You know he and I were always close. What was I supposed to do when he called?”
“Hang up, maybe?” Ellen said.
“I know. I should have. I couldn’t. I didn’t tell him anything vital. I just talked. And when . . . when Andrea went down, George called to find . . . to find out.” Johnny rubbed his eyes and looked back up. “I told him what happened to her. He was heartbroken.”
Ellen rolled her eyes.
“This is stupid, I know, but when I found out Bev was his daughter . . . I just thought he had the right to know she died.”
“Johnny,” Ellen snapped. “He can’t have the right to know. Don’t you realize that is why the phones are down?”
“Yes, but . . .”
“But nothing. One simple phone call could have launched us into a war or an attack Beginnings isn’t ready for.”
“I didn’t think of that.” Johnny shook his head. “He was so nice on the phone to me, just like he used to be. We only talked about things we did, fishing and stuff. And I . . . I . . .”
“Fell for it,” Ellen said calmly. “He used you. Can’t you see that? Johnny, he was using you.”
Johnny covered his face and nodded. “What are you going to do?”
“I want it to stop. O.K.? Just stop trying to contact him. You hear me?”
From under his hands, Johnny smiled. “All right.”
“If he calls you again when the phone lines are up, you disconnect the call. Say nothing and hang up. Promise me.”
“I promise.” Making the best sniffle sound he could, Johnny peered up at her with sad eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Ellen nodded and folded her arms tighter. “You should go home.”
Slowly, Johnny stood up and slipped out from behind the desk. “Thanks, El.” He moved to the door and stopped. “Are you gonna say something to my Pap or Dad?”
“Not if you give me your word. Look me in the eye and give me your word that this is done with. Ended. You will have no more contact, innocent or not, with George.”
Johnny looked at her straight in the eye. “You have my word. Never again.”
“Then I won’t say anything to them.”
“Thanks,” Johnny whispered. He hesitated again. It appeared to Ellen as if he were projecting a world of apology when actually he was debating on whether or not to believe she would stay silent. He had the opportunity. They were alone. One lunge, one reach out for her thin throat and Johnny knew he could snap her neck before she could scream.
“Johnny? Is something wrong?”
He stared at Ellen while he gripped the phone and looked so disappointed. Johnny knew her silence, if any, would be short lived and he decided, so should her life. “I forgot to do something.” One step to her was all he took and the door to the office opened. He immediately laid his hand that was ready to reach, still extended, on Ellen’s shoulder. Johnny looked back.
Dan walked in. “What’s going on?”
Johnny kissed Ellen on the cheek. “Night.”
“Night.” Ellen nodded as Johnny left then she looked at Dan. She concealed the phone within the folds of her arm. “Hey, Dan. Johnny walked me up. Glad you’re here. You can walk me back.” She perked up her voice.
“Oh, O.K. I thought something was wrong.”
“No, I was looking for something in the back. Can you wait for me? I’ll be right out.”
“Sure. Go on,” Dan said.
Darting to the examining room in the rear of Joe’s office, Ellen stopped to catch her breath. The phone was damp from her sweating hands. She didn’t know what to do. She really didn’t. She gave her word to Johnny that she wouldn’t say anything to Frank or Joe. The situation was bad . . . or was it? Johnny was just kid. There was no way he realized what he was doing, Ellen rationalized. But she
was still stuck with the decision on what to do. Her body shuddered in a tensed up mode that had her hinging on the edge of tears.
“Ellen,” Dan called from the other room. “Hey, are you going to New Bowman tomorrow?”
Ellen’s eyes widened. “New Bowman.” She cleared her throat. “Um, yeah. Why?”
“If I give you my Danny Dollar card will you pick me up one of those Hawaiian Shirts Ben and Todd are selling. I hear they’re going fast.”
Ellen’s eyes went back down to the phone. Her mind raced and she smiled. ‘Hawaiian. Hal.’ She breathed out, slipped the phone into her coat pocket, and stepped out into the office. “Absolutely. I’ll get you one of those. Did you know Hal was stationed in Hawaii for years?”
“I didn’t know that.” Dan set down the clipboard he was peeking at. “Thanks for sharing.”
“Sure.” Ellen smiled. “Let’s go.”
“Did you get what you need from the back?” Dan asked.
“Yeah, I did. Thank you.” Ellen opened the door. She did get what she needed in the back and it wasn’t film for the instant camera. It was answers.
^^^^
Steward Lange watched the look on George’s face as he drifted off again into thought during their conversation. “Sir?”
“Sorry, Stew.” George shook his head and sat down behind his desk.
“Did he sound desperate?”
“No. He seemed more excited to talk to me.”
“It could be they were working on the phones and Johnny wanted to try to take a chance.” Steward guessed.
George shook his head. “Call me paranoid but I keep thinking someone walked in on him.”
“If you’re right then Johnny hung up immediately.”
“True. All right.” George heaved out a breath. “What do we have out west?”
“The furthest would be Minnesota, near Illinois,” Steward said.
“Any CME assassins there?”
“I’d be guessing . . .” Steward lifted his shoulder. “Thirty or forty. It’s a small camp of fifteen hundred, just a scouting post. We only send men out from there so the assassins are only there as guards.”
The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20 Page 194