Every footstep that neared, Jess felt it in his chest then he’d sigh out when the person passed. Then he found it, the one thing that would help. His thoughts went back to Frank and Joe arguing about Bertha the transvestite, and Jess knew one of the first messages he would send, if nothing else important occurred, would be to let Frank know that he was absolutely correct so to speak.
The rhythm of pacing didn’t last long. No sooner did Jess slow down to the nearing sounds of walking, he stopped when he saw who it was. “Johnny.”
Blinking, almost lost, Johnny walked in. “Yes?”
“Johnny.” Jess walked to him.
“Do I know you?”
Jess chuckled. “Um, yeah you . . .”
“Sorry it took so long,” George made his announcement in his steady stride into the office. “Johnny, can you leave us?”
“Um, yeah, George. Sure.” Johnny slowly started to leave but before he did, he took one more look at Jess.
“Boyens.” George extended his hand. “How was the trip?”
“Long. My injuries are bothering me.”
“I’d like to have our doctors take a look at you. The meds out in Duluth said you were burned pretty badly.”
“I’m still healing,” Jess nodded with appreciation.
“It’s a long process.”
“George, why did Johnny act as if he didn’t know me?”
“I haven’t a clue. In fact, that is going to be one of your first jobs here, to determine if indeed it is an act.”
“Excuse me?” Jess asked.
“Later on that.” Georg reached back and closed the office door. “But first and most importantly.” Like an excited and anxious, child, George rubbed his hands together. “How’s my daughter?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
From the large window of the mess hall, Margaret lost all breath and grabbed her chest. “It’s been a while since I have seen him.”
“He is a good man,” Hal told her. “The mess hall should be empty. It will be a good place to sit.”
“I’m actually nervous. He looks very well.”
“I’d like to see some weight on him but he’s not a big eater,” Hal stated.
“He never was.”
Hal gave an upward indicating point. “Sgt. Ryder is speaking to him now.”
“How do you think he’ll tell him?” Margaret asked.
“Gently. I think it should take a few minutes. The shock of . . . Christ,” Hal whined.
“A few minutes?” Margaret asked, shocked when she saw Peter spin to the window. “He looks horrified.”
“I’m sure gingerly isn’t the proper term to describe the way Sgt. Ryder broke the news to him.”
“They’re coming.” Margaret caught her breath again as she watched Elliott and a very apprehensive Peter make their way to the mess hall.
Elliott opened the door and allowed Peter to step in first.
Hal walked behind Elliott,. “Good Lord, Elliott. What did you do, just blurt it out to the man? He looks like death.”
Elliott shrugged. “Why beat around the bush?”
In a single motion Hal lifted his bandana from his hind pocket and gave a soft whap to Elliott’s head. “Stop hanging around my brother. Owens is starting to look good.”
“Peter,” Margaret whispered and stepped to him. She smiled gently. “You . . . you look well.” She reached up to his face.
Peter stepped back and shifted his eyes to Hal. “Captain.”
“It’s all right, son.” Hal told him. “This is your mother.”
Peter looked at Margaret, so confused.
“See.” Margaret he handed him a photograph. “This is a family picture of us.”
With a trembling hand, Peter took the picture. “I am sorry. I am very sorry. I do. . . Do not . . .” He struggled, almost as if he had a stutter, for his words. “Remember you. I’m sorry.”
“That’s OK. You hold that.” Margaret cupped her hand over his. “We have plenty of time to get reacquainted.”
Hal laid his hand on Peter’s back. “You could start now. I know you are exhausted after the scouting mission but perhaps you two could share some coffee in here. Sgt. Ryder and I will leave you be.”
As Hal began to leave, Margaret caught glimpse of the look that turned near petrified on Peter’s face. “Perhaps . . .” she spoke up. “The Captain could stay and help ease things?”
Peter exhaled in relief, “I would like that.”
“That will be fine.” Hal nodded for Elliott to leave. “Sgt. Ryder can . . . oh.” He snapped his fingers. “Elliott, wait.” He made his way to Elliott. “Here.” He reached in his inner pocket and pulled out the hand held computer. “We may be busy for a while. Please keep checking this.”
Elliott took the minicomputer as Hal walked to a table with Margaret and Peter. He glanced down at it as he walked out and saw there were ‘zero’ messages waiting. He would keep checking to see if one arrived. He knew one would, especially since Jess had arrived in Quantico.
^^^^
Frank glanced from the single sheet of paper to Billy and set it down. “Really? To be honest. I haven’t a clue.”
“That’s OK.” Billy pulled it back. “I think I have it.” He scratched his head. “It’s a form of calculus.” He shrugged.
“Calculus, huh?” Frank rocked back some in the chair. “Jenny is teaching some tough stuff now.”
“No,” Billy snickered. “I think it’s her compromise to me.” He pushed the paper aside. “She marks them all correct even when they are wrong.”
“If they’re wrong and she’s say they’re right, how do you know?” Frank asked.
“I know calculus.”
“Oh.” Frank stood up and gathered the plates from the table?
“But I didn’t say anything. I’m being nice.”
Mid-clean up, Frank froze. “You’re being nice to Jenny?”
“She’s trying. You know, with Mom gone and all.”
“That’s nice of you, Bill. Did you want more birthday cake?” Frank picked up the last plate.
“No. Any more sugar intake and it will affect my sleep pattern.” He folded his hands.
“Joey ate three pieces and he’s sound asleep.” Frank took the dishes into the kitchen.
“Joey is an exception to the rule.” Billy waited for Frank to return. “So, Uncle Frank? Why um . . . why do you think . . .”
“He’s busy,” Frank cut him off. “I mean, with your mom not being in town, he’s really busy.” Pulling out his chair again, Frank sat down. “Besides, if you want my opinion, I think your dad thinks your birthday is in February.”
“Why?”
“That time ripple. Before we rippled time, you were born in February.”
“How did that happen?” Billy asked.
“Time machine.”
“No.” He laughed. “I mean that our birthday was earlier.”
“You were conceived earlier.”
“How?”
Frank panicked. “How . . . how old are you?”
“Eight.”
One eye closed, Frank took a moment of thought. “I guess with you being smart, you’re old enough. See . . .” He leaned in the table and folded his hands. “When a man and a woman get together, they do things. And these things. Well have parts that fit and . . .”
“Oh my God.”
“Wait. I’m trying to be gentle.”
“No.” Billy gasped out. “You aren’t actually explaining the facts of life to me are you.’
“You asked.”
“No, I did not. I asked how the ripple effected our conception. Uncle Frank, please.” Billy stood up. “If I know calculus, I’m pretty sure I know where babies come from.” He kissed Frank on the cheek and snickered in sarcasm. “Everyone knows they’re made in labs.” He laughed again at how Frank was about to explain that to him, then with a soft goodnight, Billy trotted off to bed.
It turned into a William Hayes memory for Frank and he laughed
, running his hand across his face in his after chuckle. He thought back at how William insisted that Dean and Ellen created their children in a lab because Dean was incapable of creating them naturally. It had been some time for Frank but right there, he took a moment and missed William Hayes. In was a peaceful moment for Frank until Dean walked in.
“Frank,” Dean merely stated his name.
“Dean.” Frank stood up. “Busy night?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.” Dean moved to the kitchen.
“I thought so,”
“You can go.”
“I plan on it.” Frank grabbed his leather jacket. “Night.”
Arrogant, Dean flashed a smile and continued his journey into the kitchen. Not two steps onto the linoleum, he stopped. The half of birthday cake on the counter screamed at him and his heart sunk. “Oh my God.” He turned around and as he raced to the living room with full intent on going straight to the twins, he saw the door shut. “That asshole.” Halting himself and changing his course of action, Dean flung open the front stood. “Frank, wait,” he called out strongly.
“What?” Frank stopped on the porch.
“Why . . . why didn’t you call me?”
“About?”
“You know about what. The twins’ birthday.”
“It’s your kids’ birthday Dean. Why should I remind you?”
“Because I’ve been busy.”
“Funny,” Frank scoffed. “I thought you had a lab assistant now.”
Dean bit his bottom lip and tensed his jaw in a withholding. “You still should have called me.”
“We tried. Where’s your phone, Dean. Or rather, why wasn’t it on?”
“I was working on DNA. I always turn the ringer off. What would it have taken to come get me?”
‘What would it have taken to remember?”
“You did this on purpose!” Dean raised his voice. “To make me look like the bad guy.”
“Fuck you, Dean. I covered for your little ass tonight so don’t even go there.”
“You know. . .” Dean’s breathing became heavier the more his frustration slipped out. “You have a real problem with me and I can’t figure out why the old Frank is back.”
“Maybe because a new Dean emerged.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You aren’t the same Dean.”
“Bullshit!”
“No! No!” Frank shook his head. “You are so occupied anymore that no one sees you or hears from you. You can’t complete simple fuckin household father chores alone.”
“I am trying, Frank. I am trying the best I can to get by until Ellen gets back.”
“No, Dean!” Frank blasted, “You are trying the best you can to replace Ellen until she gets back.”
“Where is this coming from?”
“Misha.”
Dean grunted sarcastically. “Oh. Oh I get it. Yes.” He nodded. “You know what, Frank. It makes sense. It makes perfect sense. It’s not the lab assistant thing. It’s the fact that I became friends with her. So what? You’re jealous. Like a spoiled rotten kid on a playground, you’re jealous. I made a new friend. I have someone to talk to.”
“Well fuckin congratulations, Dean.” Heaviness laced Frank’s words, “Good for you. I’m glad you found someone. Me. I’d rather wait for Ellen. You remember her, don’t you?”
“Fuck you.”
CRACK!
The sound of the hit rang out and the deliverance of Frank’s fist nailed Dean with surprise and a force that knocked him off balance and back into the side of the house.
Regaining his footing quickly, Dean didn’t see the red of blood. He saw the red of his rage and like a pit bull, he charged forward. Dean rammed into Frank’s gut full speed and shoulder first. The splintering of wood broke the silence of the evening even more when both men collided and with the break of the porch railing, they sailed into the snow covered yard.
Frank rolled himself to a stand with Dean within his grip. His boot slipped on the iced up snow. Still holding on to Dean, he caught a glimpse on the oncoming blow and before Dean could land his punch, Frank shoved him back hard.
The BANG of the aluminum siding caused a start in Joe and he peered up from reading his Hoi Newspaper. Lowering his glasses, he called to Andrea. “What the hell was that?”
From her washing dishes stance, with her hands in the water Andrea tipped toed up and peered out the kitchen window. She sang a sweet, ‘ah.”
“What?” Joe asked.
“Frank and Dean must have patched things up. Their wrestling out there.”
“Wrestling?” Joe took off his glasses.
“Yep.”
The second bang of the siding wasn’t a signal to Joe that outside a youth filled rough housing ensued but rather a battle. Taking that as a warning and letting out an aggravated, ‘Christ’, Joe went outside.
Frank had taken one hit. It wasn’t a devastating blow, but it was still a hit taken. Not wanting to deal with a snow covered fight, and just wanting to get it over with, in a single step stride forward, Frank clenched his fist tight, revved back the powerhouse blow and delivered to what was an open target. Dean.
Stopped.
The stinging ricocheted across Frank’s cold knuckles with the interception of his punch by his father’s hand.
Gripping tight, Joe stepped between the two men and kept his eyes focused hard on Frank. “Enough. You hear me? Enough.” He gave a firm father point, released Frank’s hand, and then turned to Dean. “You, go in your house.” He turned back to Frank. “You, go take a walk or something. No more of this shit.” A scolding look was given to both of them, then Joe head back to his house. “I mean it,” he ordered one more time. He stopped by his own porch and glanced back at Frank and Dean who were a few feet apart in a dead stare. “Goodnight.”
Frank’s shoulders heaved in a heaviness and his breaths of steam encircled him. After the sound of his father’s door closing, and Joe’s yelling out, ‘Christ, Andrea, no they didn’t make up. Drop it.’, Frank wiped the back of his hand over the corner of his mouth and stepped back. “This isn’t over.”
“No, Frank.” Dean brought his fingers to the corner of his eyes and brought them back down to look at the blood. “The only that is over for sure is this friendship.”
A single arrogant laugh came from Frank and he took a step to Dean. “Friendship? You think I was your friend? Let me tell you something, little man. I just used you to get to Ellen and you know what . . .” Frank walked another step closer. “Even if I was your friend.” He shrugged. “You don’t need me anymore. You have Misha. In fact, with her around, I don’t believe you even need Ellen anymore. Don’t think for one moment I won’t seize the opportunity, be the old Frank, and step right in.”
“It’ll never happen.”
“You don’t think?” Frank chuckled. “Why don’t we make a little list right now? Giggle sessions in the lab. Misha wearing El’s lab coat, doing El’s cryo work, redoing Ellen’s assessment. Bathing the kids, feeding the kids, reading to them. And let’s not forget the long work nights that pretty much were the cause for you forgetting your kids’ birthday. You’ve been so wrapped up, you haven’t even seen what you’re doing. But . . .” He took a step back. “I did. Ellen will. That’s all it will take. It’ll never happen?” Frank scoffed. “I’d say, you pretty much made it happen for me.” With another step back, he winked. “Thanks, Dean.”
Dean couldn’t do it. He couldn’t show that he listened to every word Frank said, nor the fact that he felt them harder than the punch he took. He kept his eyes forward and watched Frank as he walked away. As soon as Frank disappeared from site, Dean closed his eyes and dropped to a crouch. With his elbows on his thighs, he brought his cupped hands to his mouth.
He probably could have stayed in the cold like that for a while, stayed focused and never giving into the way he felt. Dean could have done that had it not been for the tiny touch of a child’s hand that laid upon his arched
back. The hand rubbed once in a comfort. Sliding his lips against his knuckles, Dean turned and looked at Billy.
Billy didn’t say a word, yet he conveyed the right thing. He looked at his father, not with a look of disappointment or judgment, but with an innocent compassion.
The right thing.
After a second and a long blink, with a heavy release of emotional breath, Dean stood to his feet and lifted his son. Arms wrapped tight, embracing Billy with everything he had, Dean walked back into his home.
^^^^
The scouting party reports were pretty encouraging. There were three possible leads to populated areas. To Elliot, maybe that was why the Captain looked so engrossed as he sat behind his desk. In fact, he was so engrossed, he didn’t know Elliott had emerged into the open doorway. Elliott had every intention of flowing right in with the important news he had to deliver but there was a frightening visual about the Captain. Under the glow of the single desk lamp, the Captain illuminated a twin image of his father.
Hal hunched over the papers sprawled about. Leaning inward in a hover of his desk, the shadows from the dim bulb found a home within the corners of Hal’s eyes, magnifying the lines to make him look older. To Elliott, the final touch and icing on the cake of the whole pseudo Joe appearance was the half-square reading glasses the Captain allowed no one to see him wear.
A subtle clearing of the throat was Elliott’s interruption.
Hal peered over the rims of his glasses, then with the slow lowering of them, he stood up. “Something is wrong.”
After a hard swallow, Elliott quietly walked to the desk. “I’ve been checking constantly for you.” He handed Hal the hand held computer. “That just came in.”
Eyes barely reading the brief message, Hal exhaled heavily. “Oh my God.”
^^^^
With a rush of urgency, Hal used his authority and began moving things along before even arriving in Beginnings. He knew what had to be done and the amount of time to waste was unknown. He didn’t prioritize his list of those to speak to according to status. He prioritized according to who he saw when. Though he would have preferred, due to fear of parental lashing, of speaking first to his father, Frank took the priority Beginnings spot when Hal watched him walk into the Social Hall.
The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20 Page 274