The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20

by Jacqueline Druga

  “Oh. John,” Jenny wisped out. “John, does this mean?”

  “Yes, finally. I made my mistakes. I tried to atone. I know I erred, but finally and for good.” John smiled. “I’m home.”

  ^^^^

  Perspiration down the bridge of her nose caused Ellen’s operating room mask to slide with ease down her face.

  She pulled it from her at the exact same time she slipped from the double doors. Heaving out a breath, Ellen took a second and leaned back against the wall. There were a lot of factors that played into the fact that the operation on Robbie was more tedious than any other she had ever done.

  It was a first and Ellen was willing to wager one not done all that often in the old world. Tendons, capillaries, nerves, and veins all had to be connected and attached. Almost as if they were building a car, they had wires to contend with and an outside structure that had to be nearly soldered to finalize the look.

  However, the number one reason was Robbie. Ellen teetered between worry and medicine so much she was on an emotional roller coaster.

  Despite the fact that her part was done, the operation still continued. It was almost finished.

  Almost.

  Outside, alone in the hall, Ellen realized something. Yes, the operation took a lot from her but it also took a lot from her . . . mind.

  Then Ellen realized something else. The twelve hours she put into during the operation just wasn’t long enough. After she had a few moments of rest, Ellen was heading to Containment if for nothing else but to smile at the residents. At least there, they lived in the own worlds, their own minds, completely happy with their low level insanity.

  Insanity.

  Dean.

  Like the pro he was, Dean handled the operation magnificently. He did impressively well without making one off the wall comment. It was the long standing, well performed operation that made Ellen wonder. Perhaps there was no mental breakdown or chip disarray. Perhaps, Dean just made some new choices and Ellen would have to live with it.

  Since she wanted to change clothes, check some test results, then head over to Containment before she could be bombarded with questions about Robbie for which she had no answers, Ellen went into the clinic lab.

  She stopped cold, did a Dean skid on the linoleum, and looked up. “Henry.”

  “Hey, El.” Henry walked up to her.

  “Not working?”

  “Yeah, but I felt compelled to come here. I was wondering how things are going.”

  “Robbie’s not quite done with the operation. Almost. Almost.” She took a step.

  “Not Robbie.” Henry held out his hand, stopping her. “You.”

  “Me?”

  “You.”

  Ellen shrugged. “Tired but otherwise, I’m fine.”

  “You’re fine.”

  “Yep.” Ellen gave a closed mouth smile.

  “If you’re so fine, then why am I not feeling it?”

  “What?” Ellen chuckled.

  “Come on, El. It’s me. I know we’ve had our differences. I know we don’t talk but …”

  “Henry . . .” Ellen said with a slight whine. “I’m tire. That’s all.”

  “Okay. I’ll accept that. I just thought . . . you were gone for over a month. You ran for your life, were kidnapped, all to come home and . . . well all to come home and have it not be the way you want it to be.”

  Ellen mumbled, “That’s an understatement.”

  Henry smiled slightly. “I heard that.”

  “If I didn’t want you to, I wouldn’t have said it aloud.”

  “I figured as much.” Henry nodded. “Understand this. I know what this is doing to you. I know. I . . . know,” he accentuated. “If you want to put on the tough act for everyone and act all nonchalant, that’s fine. But know, if you need someone behind the walls to talk to, I’m here. I’ll help. In my heart, we’re still friends.”

  Ellen was silent.

  “Okay?”

  Ellen nodded.

  “Ok.” Henry leaned down and kissed Ellen on the forehead. “You know where to find me.” Turning, Henry started to leave.

  In the silence of Henry’s leaving, Ellen spoke up. “It’s killing me.”

  Henry stopped without turning back around.

  Ellen stared out across the room. “I’m angry. I’m bitter. I’m frustrated. A part . . .” Ellen sighed. “A part of me thinks it’s a mistake and there is a viable reason for it all. A part of me is waiting for it to end and everything will go back to normal. I still love Dean. Then another part of me wants to just say fuck it. Fuck Dean.” She tossed out her hand. “But what’s really bad, what really has me clouded, despite all I feel, no matter where I’m registering on the emotional Richter scale, and overshadowing any angry, what have you, I’m crushed.” She turned her head to look sadly at Henry. “I am completely . . . utterly . . . crushed.”

  Henry reached back and closed the door.

  ^^^^

  ‘Perfect timing’ ricocheted through Hal’s mind as he neared the clinic and saw his father entering the building. He wasn’t that far behind and he knew he wasn’t the last to arrive when he saw Frank rounding the bend from the living section.

  “Hurry, Elliott,” Hal informed. “I have to beat Frank inside.”

  Elliott chuckled and stopped the Jeep right before the doors. He started to get out with Hal.

  “Hey!” Frank yelled. “Hey wait!”

  “Aw,” Hal whined. After a facial cringe, he pleasantly turned and faced a running Frank. “Yes?”

  “That’s a no parking zone.” Frank pointed to the Jeep.

  Hal blinked. “Excuse me? A no parking zone? In Beginnings? No parking zone?”

  “A no parking zone. It means you can’t park there.”

  “I know what it means.” Hal snapped. “Since when?”

  “Since . . . since . . .” Frank stumbled.

  “Well.” Hal folded his arms.

  “Since I said so. So no parking. It’s a drop off zone only.”

  “Okay. Then we’re fine. Elliott is only dropping me off.”

  “Oh, yeah, so then how come he’s out of the Jeep?” Frank raised his eyebrows. “If he was only dropping you off, he would have stayed in the Jeep. So therefore . . .”

  “Therefore my ass!” Hal barked.

  “He has a point, Captain,” Elliott said.

  Hal mocked. “He has a point. So what? It’s ridiculous. A no parking zone.”

  “It’s my rule,” Frank said.

  “I agree,” Elliott commented.

  “You would,” Hal sneered. “You’ve been influenced too much. You’re too far gone. I’m surprised you’re still my right hand man.”

  Elliott laughed. ‘What are you talking about?”

  Hal dropped his voice to a whisper. “Share Ellen. Brown . . .” Hal stepped back and touched the tip of his nose. “Nose.” He nodded. “You look alike. Dear God, you’re starting to think alike. Tweedle Dee and Tweedle so fuckin Dumb.”

  Elliott chuckled. “That was good.”

  “Thanks.”

  Frank shook his head. “That’s not it.”

  “What’s not it?” Hal asked.

  “It’s Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb.”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “No you said, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle so fuckin Dumb.”

  “Forget it Frank!” Hal snapped. “We have better things to worry about. Robbie. Isn’t that why we’re here?”

  “No.” Frank shook his head. “What’s going on with Robbie?”

  “The operation is done,” Hal answered. “He’s not awake and won’t be for a while, but we can see him. Didn’t you know?”

  “No. I’ve been busy. Wow. That’s great.”

  “Then why are you here right now?” Hal asked.

  “Oh. Dean. I need to talk to him. Seriously.”

  “Someone should,” Hal stated.

  “Get to the bottom of it. You know his . . .” Frank twirled his finger around his own t
emple. “Problem.”

  “Hmm. Delicately put,” Hal said.

  “Thanks.”

  “So you think you can help?”

  “Absolutely.” Frank nodded assuredly.

  “If anyone can, you can.”

  “Yeah, did you know he hates you now?” Frank asked.

  “Yes.” Hal nodded. “I am aware of his distaste for me. So how do you plan on helping him?”

  “Brainstorm.” Frank touched his temple.

  “Good heavens, Frank. We need his intelligence.”

  “I know. That’s why I have this.” Frank lifted a small cigar box.

  “What is that?” Hal asked.

  “A box,” Frank replied.

  “I know that,” Hal said, agitated. “What’s in it?”

  “Stuff.”

  “Stuff?”

  “Stuff.”

  After looking irritated to a snickering Elliott, Hal returned to Frank. “What kind of stuff?”

  “Just . . . stuff.”

  “Stuff.” Hal nodded. “Is that your grown up answer, Frank? Stuff?”

  “Yes. Well, various stuff.”

  Hal looked at Elliott. “He mesmerizes me with his technical talk.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Hal. Now you’re being sarcastic.”

  “The whole time I was being sarcastic, Frank, you ass.”

  Elliott’s almost shocked ‘Ellen’ caught both of their attention.

  Hal immediately spun around to see Ellen coming down the steps. “El, everything is fine, right?”

  “Yes,” she nodded. “I’m just tired. Robbie’s stable, doing well, and should be up some time tomorrow morning.”

  “We can see him, right?” Hal asked.

  “Yes. Andrea will let you know where he is. I’m heading . . .” she pointed. “To Containment.”

  Elliott stepped to her. “May walk you there?”

  Oddly, Frank glanced. “It’s only right over there, Ryder, She’ll be fine.”

  “I still would like to walk you. Ellen?” Elliott gave a questioning look.

  “I’d like that.” Ellen grasped his extend arm and started to walk.

  “Oh, Ellen,” Hal called out, “I want to tell you that you look simply picture perfect.”

  Elliott stopped walking.

  “Doesn’t she look picture perfect, Elliott? Perhaps at Containment you two can speak about some recent photographs you can share. Hmm?” Hal said snidely.

  Ellen looked up at Elliott. “What on earth is he talking about?”

  Elliott shrugged. “Haven’t a clue. Let’s just hurry before he says anything else.” He picked up the pace in their walk.

  Snickering at the humor of the inside joke, Hal stopped laughing when he noticed the look Frank gave him. “What, Frank?”

  “Nothing. That was just odd.”

  “And you believe you have room to talk?”

  “Hal. Fuck.” Frank walked passed him to the steps. “You have to stop picking on me.” He held the door open for Hal. “Or else I’m gonna tell Dean on you. He might want to beat you up.”

  “Ha. Ha. Ha.” Hal stopped in the hall. “Are you coming to find our brother?”

  “In a minute. Go on.” Frank motioned his head to the box. “I want to find Dean.”

  “Find a solution as well, Frank.” Hal began to walk. “Lord knows I don’t want . . . beat up. Or in a viable instance, some deadly virus created in a lab and released by a wiry little scientist who’s out of his mind.” Chuckling, he kept walking.

  Frank scratched his head. “I wonder who he meant.” Giving a twitch of his head, Frank gave up and decided to search out Dean. Hoping it wouldn’t be too difficult, Frank walked directly to the clinic lab and he was correct. Dean was there. Pausing in the door way, Frank watched Dean just stand at the far counter, facing the back wall. “Yes, Dean, I am staring at your butt.”

  Dean laughed. “I told you to quit reading my mind.” He turned around.

  “Can I come in?”

  “Please. But why are you asking?”

  “I’m the new and improved Frank.” Frank shut the door. “I’m gonna try to be polite.”

  Dean laughed. He pulled up a stool for himself and one for Frank. “Sit?”

  “Thanks.” Frank did. “So, how’s my baby brother?”

  “Good. He handled the surgery extremely well. We have no reason to believe the chip implantation wasn’t a complete success. Also, the arm re-attachment went very, very well.”

  “I’m glad. Anything to worry about, though?” Frank asked.

  “The usual. Infection. Rejection. There is a slight possibility he may reject the arm.”

  “Ah, no, Dean, that won’t happen. Robbie wants the arm. He likes it. Don’t worry.”

  “No, Frank. I mean his body might reject it. His immune system may fight it off as if it were a foreign body. But that’s slight. We used the healing agent on him to speed recovery.”

  “The same one you used on me?” Frank questioned.

  “Yes.”

  “So does this mean my brother is going to be a rabbit?”

  “No. No. We used a smaller dose.”

  “A bunny, then.”

  Dean couldn’t help but laugh. “No. Nothing. It will just heal. We pretty much overdosed you. You, Frank, are a rare case.”

  “That runs sixty miles an hour. I’m cool, Dean.”

  “Yes, you are.” Dean reached for his coffee.

  “Speaking of cool, did I show you God’s balls?”

  The sip of coffee Dean took ejected from his mouth. “What?”

  “Okay, they’re actually gloves that generate these balls of electricity.”

  “Oh, the weapon. You told me. You’ll have to show me.”

  “If I show you, I’ll zap you. If I zap you, I might fry your chip.”

  “You might.”

  “Speaking of chips.” Frank ran his hand over the box. “I need to talk to you. Seriously. Okay?”

  Dean blinked and stared at Frank. The sudden change of demeanor took him by surprise. “Um, yeah, Frank what’s up?”

  “I’m serious.”

  “I know. Go on.”

  “Real serious.”

  “Frank. I know. Go on.”

  “Okay. You . . . I consider you my best friend.”

  “Thanks, Frank.”

  Frank continued, “I know what I’m taking a chance losing that here. So know ahead of time, I appreciate you giving me Ellen.”

  “Okay.”

  “All right.” Frank took a breath. “I am gonna try to say this as easy as possible.” He took a second. “Bare with me while I think.” Another breath. Another pause. “All right. Dean . . . Dean . . . everyone thinks you’re fuckin nuts.”

  The stereotypical Dean response would have been ridicule or laughter but Dean immediately stood up and turned his head.

  “Dean?”

  “Explain nuts.” Dean said, staring away.

  “Nuts as in . . .”

  “As in what you just said.”

  “About?”

  “Frank!” Dean yelled. “You just said I was fuckin nuts.”

  “No I did not. I said people think you’re fuckin nuts.”

  “Explain that.”

  “Oh.” Frank nodded. “Crazy. Insane. Fucked up. A loon. Mentally challenged. Um . . . psychologically whacked.”

  “Okay, enough. I get the picture.” Dean lifted his hand and turned slowly to Frank. “What do you think, Frank?”

  “I think . . . I think there may be a problem, Dean.” Frank watched Dean slowly return to his chair. “I also think you know it.”

  Exhaling as he nodded, Dean folded his hands and looked up. “Oh my God, Frank, do I know it.”

  “This is good,” Frank spoke, upbeat. “Recognizing the problem is a first step. Tell me what you know is going on with you.”

  “I’m acting strange.”

  “True.”

  “And I’m thinking the oddest things, doing the oddest things.
Like . . . like the other day,” Dean explained. “Yesterday. I was removing an ingrown toenail for Josephine.”

  “That is odd.”

  “Oh, yeah, but nowhere near as odd as when I had the overwhelming desire to suck her toes.”

  “Uh!” Frank cringed and stood up. “Fuck. It’s worse than I thought.”

  “Tell me about it, but I controlled it.”

  A huge wince that Dean didn’t see crossed Frank’s face.

  “I’m trying Frank, but it seems like I have no control.”

  Frank laid his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “You’re making an effort.”

  “I am, but it’s not working.”

  “Speaking of working, is it affecting your work?”

  “Yes and no,” Dean answered. “I know what I’m doing when I work, but I can easily become distracted and my mind floats away from work.”

  “Yeah but we all do that while working. That’s not unusual.”

  “Even if it’s thoughts of making mad passionate love to Josephine?”

  “Okay, now that’s unusual.”

  “See, Frank.” Dean lifted his hand and dropped it.

  “What do you make of the chip theory?”

  “My chip is fine. Danny did two diagnostics.”

  “No, the chip theory.”

  Dean looked confused at Frank.

  “You don’t know?” Frank asked. “Dean, no one told you?”

  “No. Told me what.”

  “Okay. Well, my dad gets this anonymous note stating that the reason for your odd behavior is because they zapped your chip and left you open to a post hypnotic suggestion of some kind.”

  “That’s absurd.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Frank lifted his finger. “But I have been thinking about it and it seems only a few things are making you act different and affect your work. A few things are out of your control. One, you now love Misha.”

  “She’s wonderful.”

  “You have the hots for Josephine.”

  “She’s feisty.”

  “You hate Hal.”

  “He’s an asshole.”

  “Understandable. And you run around every night at midnight naked.”

  “I do?”

  “No, I just threw that in to lighten the mood.” Frank laughed.

  “Thanks. Thanks a lot. I don’t need any help. Frank, why do I say what I do? Huh? I know, deep inside, I don’t feel them fully. I mean Misha. I don’t . . . I . . . don’t L . . . L . . .” Dean’s head moved with every attempt to say the word. “I don’t . . . L . . .”