“Wait.” He reached back and started the music again. “Should odd acquaintance be forgot and never brought to . . .”
“Frank.”
“Danny. Fuck. I had it.”
Danny walked to the stage. “It’s not odd.”
“I never said the song was.”
“No, Frank. I mean the word.”
“What word.”
“Here . . .” Danny reached up and took the paper. “Right here. ‘Auld’. That word is auld.”
“Yeah, but spelled different. Odd. Auld. Same difference. What the fuck does that line mean anyhow? Should odd acquaintances be forgot?”
“Frank, why are you singing?”
“I’m auditioning.”
“For my talk show.”
“Yeah. Robbie said I should sing.’
“For a talk show.”
“Uh . . . yeah. Want me to start over?”
Across the room, Joe yelled out. “Frank.”
Frank looked beyond Danny to see his father and Hal come in. “What is it, Dad? I’m auditioning. Did you and Hal come to see? I’m singing. I’m having some problems, but that’s because it’s in French. It’s a song about forgetting people you don’t like or think are weird.”
Joe was puzzled. “A French song about forgetting weird people?”
Danny turned slightly to Joe and spoke as if trying to not be heard by Frank. “Auld Lang Syne, Joe.”
Joe held up his hand to Hal. “No comments.”
“None spoken,” Hal defended.
“Frank.” Joe looked at Frank. “Can you put down the microphone and put the French song on pause? I need you in my office.”
“Why?”
“Just . . . just audition later. Please,” Joe said.
Danny hurried, seized the opportunity and spoke up. “Audition done. Frank you’re done.”
“Did I pass?” Frank asked.
“Uh, yeah. You’re on the show.”
With an excited, ‘yes’, Frank clenched his fist. “But when I come on I won’t have to sing the French song, will I?”
“No.” Danny shook his head. “Go with your dad.”
“Ok.” Frank set down the microphone and walked off the stage. “I can sing Elvis.”
“I’ll remember.”
Frank started to walk. “Or the Beatles. Not real good but close.”
Danny lifted his finger. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“They’re foreign, you know,” Frank said as he left. “I probably can’t sing their language either. What was it?”
Hal patted Frank on the back. “English, Frank.”
“Oh!” Frank spun as he hit the door. “I can do a mean version of . . .”
“Joe,” Danny whimpered.
“I got him.” Joe took Frank’s arm. “Make a list, Frank. Let’s go.” He pulled Frank out.
The door closed.
Danny’s shoulders dropped in relief. “Thank God. Okay.’ He turned around. “Next?”
Dan from Security stood up. “That would be me but I feel really dumb.”
“Why?” Danny asked.
“I didn’t bring anything to sing.”
Danny stared for a second then plopped back down to his director’s chair.
^^^^
“I thought we had this meeting once already.” Frank followed Joe into his office.
“That was a different meeting, Frank.” Joe moved behind his desk and sat down. He began to dial the phone. “This is a new one.”
“Oh. Okay.” Frank nodded as Hal moved by him and took a seat. “What are you looking at?”
“What in God’s name is your problem?” Hal snapped as he sat down. “Now, Dad, what is this meeting . . .”
Joe silenced Hal with a raise of his hand. “Robert? You there?” Joe nodded then pressed the button on the speaker phone. “All right, put him on.”
Frank’s jaw tensed up as he stood, arms folded. ‘This better not be Johnny.”
Joe shook his head.
Mike’s voice came on. “Mr. Slagel, sir, thank you for speaking to me.”
“Not a problem,” Joe said.
“I’ll make this short. I know you’re busy,” Mike explained. “Sir, I understand your concerns about Ellen’s safety but I run this town. I protect this town. I do a good job. I also promise that I will lay my life on the line to protect Ellen. Just let her stay and finish her work and send someone back for her.”
Before Joe could say anything, Frank did. “No! Absolutely not! Tell Ellen to get her fuckin ass on that plane and . . .”
“Hey!” Mike yelled.
“Hey what!” Frank blasted back. “I’m talking.”
“I was talking.”
“Now I’m talking,” Frank snapped.
Hal blinked slowly a few times.
Frank continued, “She gets on the plane, now. Understand me, pal?”
“Well, understand this, pal . . .” Mike returned.
“Whoa. Pal? Pal? Did you just call me pal?”
“You called me pal.”
“I’m allowed.”
Joe just sat behind the desk, his eyes shifting from the speaker to Frank.
Hal ran his hand slowly down his face. “I’m drowning right now in this pool of intelligent conversation.”
“Why are you allowed?” Mike asked. “And who are you?”
“Who are you?”
“No, I asked who you were.”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Enough!” Joe shouted. “The man on the phone is Mike Manis. He runs Lodi, Frank.”
“Frank?” Mike stated his name in question.
“What.”
“Frank? I’m talking to Frank? That explains it. Okay.” Mike calmed down. “Look, I know you feel . . .”
Frank made a buzzing sound. “No more to be said. She comes home. No arguments. She comes home where she’s safe.”
“She’s safe here,” Mike argued.
“She’s safe here.”
“But she’s safe here.”
“But she’s more safe here.”
Hal closed his eyes. “Oh my God.”
“Frank,” Mike still attempted being reasonable. “I know all about you but I assure you, Ellen is safe with me and there isn’t anything you can do that I can’t do.”
“You think.”
“I know.”
“You think?”
“I know.”
“Wanna bet?” Frank asked.
“I’ll bet.”
“I’ll show you.”
“You think?”
“Good God,” Hal whispered. “I can see it now, a new testosterone contest. We’ll give it the name, the Special Olympics.”
“Hal,” Joe warned. “Now, Frank, Mike, enough.”
Hal spoke up “Mr. Manis, I am Captain Hal Slagel of the Province of New Bowman.”
Frank grumbled.
Hal only shifted his eyes and then spoke, “I run the UWA, here” He took another look at Frank when he grumbled again but Hal trudged on. “Sir, I sympathize with your plea, but you must understand our concerns for the well being of our sister.”
“And . . .” Frank added. “How we want her safe.”
“Frank,” Hal yelled. “I’m talking. Sit down!”
“I can’t!”
“Then will you stop!” Hal barked.
“All of you stop!” Joe yelled.
“Excuse me,” Mike intervened. “Please. I know this is a family matter, but can we just not do the speaker phone. Can I speak personally with one of you, the most reasonable of the three? Please?”
Frank’s hand reached for the phone. “That would be me.”
“Like hell.” Joe smacked his hand away.
“Then I would be the reasonable one.” Hal extended his own hand.
“Not you either, Hal. Me.” Joe put his hand on the phone.
Hal gasped. “You? Please. You? How do you figure?”
“I figure because I am the leader of this godda
mn community and I am your father. That not only makes me more reasonable, it makes me your boss all the way around. So there.” Joe gave a snarling face to Hal, picked up the phone, and swiveled his chair around for a bit more privacy as he took the call.
^^^^
It was Lars’s personal office. Ellen played with the phone, that didn’t work, on the desk as she spoke on the cell phone. “Yeah, Dean, I do agree.” She played with the push buttons, gathered dust on her fingertips, and rolled it between her fingers. “It is lucky in a way. At least you’ll get to see the biopsy sooner than anticipated. In an essence, I’m on top of things. The specimen packed up nicely.” She glanced down at her watch. “It’s still fresh too. The cryo process went nicely. You really need to expand on that.” She nodded, stood up, and stretched “A little tired,, yeah. Dark? Um . . .” She moved to the window. “A little, but it is pushing evening. Yeah, I hope the weather isn't bad on the way home. It looks like snow and it’s been awhile since a good fall, though Mike says they get killed with snow all the time. Mike. Mike,” Ellen repeated. “No, that’s Lars. Dean, Lars is not a horse doctor. I’m serious. Stop laughing.” Ellen did smile when she caught glimpse of the drawn on Dean’s picture in Lars’s office. “Soon, Dean. Soon. In a way, we’ll be together every step of the way. I’m gonna . . .” Ellen paused when she heard the knock on the door. “Hold on.” She turned to the door. “Come in.”
Mike walked inside. “Hey.”
“I know. I’m ready.” Ellen went back to the phone. "Not you, Dean. Mike.”
“I’m sorry, I’ll let you finish. I just wanted you to know we did the last rain check-in before the signal went out of range.”
“And?” Ellen asked.
“All clear.”
“Thanks.” Ellen smiled. "I'll be right out.” She received a nod from Mike and waited for him to walk out. “Dean? Mike said Robbie hit no bad weather. You might wanna tell everyone he’ll be home soon. He’s on his way.”
^^^^
The slight ‘zap’ took Jess’s attention away from the paper before him and he raised his eyes to Jimmy. “You all right?’
“Yeah.” Jimmy stayed focused on the hand held unit.
“You didn’t destroy it, did you?”
“Was it useless to you?” Jimmy asked.
“Yes.”
“So what difference does it make?” Jimmy manipulated wires. “Besides, I think I have it. Man, this Danny Hoi must be a genius. Look at this power source. It’s no bigger than a cufflink.”
“That’s Danny.” Jess said as he wrote.
“How’s that letter coming?”
“Well . . . slow. I mean, I know how to tell them the route home. I know how to tell them everything’s fine but how do I tell your father that a son he thought was dead is alive and well, and working for the Society?”
“Just like that.”
“What?”
“My father, from what I remember, is a man with very little tact.”
Jess snickered. “He’s still the same.”
“Then give it to him the same.” Jimmy spoke as he worked. “You tell him. ‘Joe. Sit down. I found Jimmy.”
“Just like that?”
“Yep and one more thing.”
‘What’s that?”
“How fast do you type?”
“Why?” Jess questioned with apprehension.
Jimmy exhaled. “Because the power may not last long and the unit . . .” he smiled. “is on.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“Well, I’ll be goddamned,” Joe spoke with a hint of glee just before the porch to his home. He looked up to the evening sky where it didn’t just fall, it plopped. Large clumps of snow fell fast and furiously. Pausing, Joe picked up the radio from his belt. “Bowman Tracking, come in,”
Static.
“Bowman.”
“Yeah, Chief,” Bowman answered. “You’re breaking up some. Must be the weather.”
“I’ll be quick. I know he was near. Did he land? Copy.”
“Landed and on his way, Chief.”
“Excellent. Over.” Smiling, Joe put the radio back on his belt and held out his hand, letting the clumps of snow just fill his palm. “Let it snow. Let it snow. Let it goddamn snow. It’s about time.” After stepping onto the porch, Joe wiped his feet on the outdoor mat and opened his door.
Silence.
“Yes.” Joe stepped inside. The smell of spaghetti sauce filled the home. He took off his canvass jacket. “I’m home.”
“In the kitchen,” Andrea responded.
Joe spoke softly. “Making spaghetti too.” He lifted the jacket to the coat rack and hesitated when he saw the purple shininess of it. “What the . . .” he projected his voce. “Andrea? What the hell is this purple thing?”
“Oh. I bought that for you.”
“Bought this for me. Where?”
“At the Unique Boutique. It’s one of a kind, a new Ben from Fabrics creation. He said he won’t make another like it and gave me a big discount. It’s an after dinner jacket.”
Joe lifted it. “Oh my God. What am I supposed to do with it?”
“Wear it.”
“Wear it?”
Andrea poked her head from the kitchen door with a big smile. “Oh, please, Joe for me, You’ll look so handsome.”
Joe grumbled.
She disappeared into the kitchen again. “Put it on and let me see. Isn’t it beautiful?”
Joe checked it out. “It’s queer, Andrea.”
“Joe!” She scolded.
“Fine.” Cringing and putting the jacket on, Joe kicked off his shoes. A creature of habit, he extended his right foot for his slipper. He stopped. “Andrea!” Joe whimpered in his mind, ‘No, please, no.” He called out aloud again, “Andrea. Where . . . where are my slippers?”
“By the door.”
“No, my slippers. These . . .” Jo looked at the purple shiny slippers that matched the jacket. “These are not my slippers.”
“Those match the coat.”
“Christ. I guess you want me to wear these.”
“Yours are being laundered. Please.”
Typically grumbling, Joe slipped into the silk footwear. He tilted his head as if to say ‘not bad’, then he headed into the kitchen. In his steps, he felt the belt of the new dinner jacket hit against his thigh. Without thinking, Joe tied the belt then entered the kitchen.
“Oh.” Andrea gasped in pleasure. “Look at you. Just look at you.”
“Yeah, look at me.” Joe walked to the stove. “I look like a gay Aladdin.”
“Joe, please. You look striking.” She straightened the jacket.
Joe reached for the wooden spoon to steal a taste of sauce. “This looks great. You must be panning for leftovers.” He looked at the amount of sauce and pasta boiling.
“Joe, you’ll wait.” She lightly tapped his hand and took the spoon from him.
“Fine. I’ll have my coffee. Where’s Katie. It’s quiet.”
“She’s at a brownie bake,” Andrea answered as she returned to the stove. “It’s share the kid day. It’s a new thing.”
Reaching for the coffee pot, Joe saw how full it was. “That’s a lot of coffee you made.”
“Ah-Mmm.” Andrea nodded. “I was telling a tale.”
“Go on.” Joe sipped his coffee and looked at the small table in the kitchen.
“Anyhow, once a week, Jenny is gathering the kids and for the men who have no children, they get some interaction. They get to act like parents. I think it’s a wonderful thing. Don’t you?”
“Swell. Why . . . why is that salad so large and why is that basket of bread overflowing.”
“It’s dinner.” Andrea reached for the cupboard.
“Yeah, but it’s just you and me.”
Andrea had a huge grin as she turned around with a stack of plates.
“No”
“Oh, yes,” Andrea wisped. “Grown up family time.”
“No.” Joe said in disbelief then
spun when he heard the front door open.
“Oh, Joe,” Andrea snickered. “It will be so relaxing and enjoyable.”
“I wanted peace.”
“There will be peace.”
Joe winced when he heard Frank yell out, ‘I’m here’.
“Peace with Frank, here? This has to be a dream.” Hoping against hope that it was a bizarre episode of the Beginnings Twilight Zone, Joe moved to the kitchen opening to see Frank and Hal.
Hal fluttered his lips in a laugh. “Well, Father. Don’t you look . . . .look . . .” He cleared his throat. “Spiffy.”
Joe grumbled.
Frank scoffed. “Spiffy? No, he looks gay.”
Thinking, ‘No, I can handle these two morons and their comments,’ Joe was about to rebut, say something sarcastic, and get an upper hand, when the door opened. Joe knew his peaceful evening was over and he surely was outnumbered when Robbie, Dean, and Elliott all walked in as well.
^^^^
‘All is great. Coming home. Two days. May need aid. Taking the route was simply directed. Bring good news. Sit down, Joe. Jimmy is alive.’
It was short, eight lines max. Though longer than any other note Jess sent to Beginnings, it certainly was well within the capabilities of the machine. At least the power was lasting.
Taking a sip of water, Jess walked into Jimmy’s living room. “Status?” Jess asked.
“It’s still going.” Jimmy’s eyes stayed transfixed on the palm unit. “Still going.”
“At least it is still working right?”
“Don’t jinx it.”
“It’s been two hours.”
“Still going.” Jimmy narrated. “Almost . . . almost . . . almost . . . Come on.”
Jess hurried over. As if they were watching a tightly run race, they tensed up, clenching a cheer between their teeth as they watched the indicator rod near to the end.
“Sent.” Jimmy grinned. No sooner than the unit read that the message was sent, the slight fizzle preluded the dying of the message machine. It went black.
“Luck?” Jess questioned.
“Whatever it takes.” Jimmy stood up. “At least we know the message was sent.”
“True, but there is one problem. I haven’t sent anything in a while. The last message I sent, I told them it would be the last. What happens if no one ever checks?”
The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20 Page 360