THINNER
by
Antigone
Chapter 15
The Chapters
“I
don’t see why I can’t be a part of this,” Gertrude stormed, pacing
the living room in front of the closed kitchen door. Frank sighed and
looked away, wishing she’d settle down.
“It’s
not really your business, Aunt G.,” Frank said carefully. “I mean,
you haven’t been here to watch him.”
“That
doesn’t mean I’m not concerned!”
“I
didn’t say it did.”
The
pair were waiting anxiously outside the kitchen, where Fenton and Laura
were hard at work trying to convince their younger son to eat a decent
meal. Between the nurse, Coach Finley, and Frank, Laura had gotten the
story of Joe’s collapse in the gym and the reason behind it. She’d
called Fenton on the way home while Frank followed in the van, his eyes
continually wandering back to his brother’s blonde hair. He was still
shaken by Joe’s comments on the juice and by the fight they’d had,
but he was relieved that something would be done.
Something
already had been; Joe had been kicked off the wrestling team.
“It’s
not that you’ve done anything wrong,” Coach Finley had told the
distressed younger Hardy. “It’s that your health is more
important.”
“He’s
right,” Laura had said firmly. “You have to get better before you can
wrestle. Until you’ve gained some weight, you’re not exercising.”
Joe
had argued, but not as much as Frank had expected. He looked confused, a
little angry, but mostly melancholy and puzzled.
“I
didn’t mean for it to be like this,” he’d said finally, meeting Frank’s eyes from
across the room.
Oh,
Joe, please know we’re not punishing you…
Frank had thought, looking away before his own eyes filled.
Joe
had gone to his room as soon as they’d gotten home, shutting the doors
to his room. Frank and Laura had explained what went on to Gertrude and
then again to Fenton when he arrived, and the four had decided to prepare
a light but healthy dinner and not let him go until it was finished.
But
when Joe was called downstairs and realized what was going on he’d
immediately began arguing, saying the same things he’d said earlier,
that he was fine, that everyone was trying to force him into something he
didn’t want to be, that no one understood, that it wasn’t fair to
punish him for how he wanted to be.
“This
is ridiculous, Joseph!” Gertrude had nearly shouted, “you look sick
and you’re going to eat until you’re not and that’s not up for
negotiation.”
“Gert,”
Fenton had said carefully, “maybe it’s best if you left.”
“Frank
too,” Joe echoed, not looking at his older brother.
Frank
still shuddered to remember the coldness in his younger brother’s
voice, the fights left unresolved. But he’d taken his Aunt by the arm
and the two had retreated to the living room, where Fenton had shut the
door behind them.
And
here they were.
Gertrude
sighed, glanced at her nephew, slumped on the couch with his head in his
hands, and stopped moving.
“Why
didn’t he want you in
there?”
Frank
winced, rubbed his eyes. “We had a pretty nasty fight today.”
“You
two?”
“No.
The other two.”
“Frank,
don’t be smart.”
The
elder Hardy brother sighed. “I’m sorry.”
Gertrude
crossed the room and sat beside her nephew, touching his shoulder
lightly.
“Was
it about this?”
Frank
sighed and nodded. “I went to his Coach,” he murmured, “that’s
why he missed lunch.”
“Frank,
don’t you dare blame yourself.”
“What
am I supposed to do?” he wailed suddenly. “I haven’t done anything,
all these weeks! I let him walk home every day! I let him skip breakfast
and lunch and lie to our parents!”
“So
you haven’t said anything until now? I don’t believe that.”
“Well,
no, I said things…”
“And
you didn’t tell your friends and parents?”
“No,
I told them…”
“And
didn’t you just say you went to his Coach?”
“Well,
yeah, but—“
“Frank,
you are not responsible. We
both know what a stubborn-headed idiot your brother can be—“
“Don’t
call him that.”
“I’m
just saying.”
“Don’t
call him that.”
The
two lapsed into silence, Frank replacing Gertrude in the pacing before
the door. Everything felt too quiet. Frank expected his parents to be
yelling, Joe to be yelling. But then again, he’d been wrong, terribly
wrong, about everything else, why shouldn’t he be wrong about how his
parents took care of his brother? Frank didn’t know, Frank hadn’t
stopped it, Frank couldn’t take care of Joe, had failed, was a
failure…
The
elder Hardy sighed and sank back onto the sofa, putting his head in his
hands. A moment later his Aunt’s hand reached out and began rubbing his
back slowly.
“Don’t
blame yourself, dear,” she said in uncustomary softness, “you’re
not going to do your brother any good if you start second-guessing
yourself and your intentions. We all know you’ve been trying.”
“I’m
supposed to know him best,” Frank mumbled, “I’m supposed to get
through when no one else does.”
Gertrude
was about to answer when the door opened and Joe stalked out, moving
quickly toward the stairs, his parents following behind him.
“Joe,
do you need to talk—“ his mother started.
“No.
I want you to leave me alone. I want everyone
to leave me alone!”
“Son,”
Fenton began, but Joe sprinted up the stairs, slamming the door to his
room a moment later.
Laura
sighed, and Fenton rubbed his eyes.
“Anything?”
Frank asked anxiously.
Laura
nodded. “He ate. It took awhile, but he finished it all. We told him we
thought he should see someone, a doctor or something, and I guess that
scared him enough to get him to try.”
“Well,
he did,” Gertrude said, standing and surveying the dismayed and anxious
Hardys, “let’s get the rest of you fed. Come on. Let him be.”
Fenton
and Laura reluctantly followed Gertrude back into the kitchen,
uncharacteristically silent; Frank remained, hands in his pockets,
staring longingly up the stairs after his brother.
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The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boys Fan Fiction authors of the Hardy Detective Agency have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.