hardy boys fan fiction

MY BROTHER'S GIFT

hardy boys nancy drew fan fiction

by

CQB

Chapter 1

hardy boys fan fiction

THE CHAPTERS

INTRO

PREFACE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

“Frank’s Trip”  

As soon as I opened my eyes, I knew right away why I was awake.  I heard my older brother Frank moving around in the bathroom that separated my room from his.  

Frank was merrily humming some tune that I couldn’t quite recognize, but I wasn’t sure if that was because I didn’t know the song, or because Frank’s version of it was less than perfect.  Regardless, it was obvious to me that Frank was in a very good mood.  

Not that there is anything really unusual about that.  My brother Frank almost always wakes up cheerful and pleasant, unlike someone else that I won’t mention.  

I knew that Frank’s cheerfulness level on this morning was up a bit higher than normal, though.  It was my big brother’s tenth birthday.   Not only was it his birthday, but in a few hours, our whole family would help him celebrate by taking a trip to Washington, D. C.  That’s what Frank wanted for his birthday; a trip to Washington, D. C.  

Rolling over onto my side, I faced my Batman alarm clock.  It was almost 8 o’clock and we were supposed to be leaving in an hour.   

I’ve tried to get excited about this trip, for Frank’s sake.  I mean, he’s the best big brother a guy could ever ask for, I know.  But, I just don’t see what’s so exciting about a bunch of old government buildings and museums.  I was sure I’d be so totally bored!  

At least we got out of school for a week.  That’s about the only good thing I could think of.  Don’t get me wrong about school.  It’s not that bad.  But if I have a choice, I’d rather be home playing than stuck in Mrs. Fielding’s classroom.  

I turned and faced the bathroom door as I heard it open.  Frank’s head popped around the door and he gave me a smile.  

“Time to get up, Joe,” Frank said.  “Mom’s got breakfast ready, so hurry and get dressed.”  

“’Kay,” I said, returning his smile.  

I crawled out of bed, dressed and brushed my teeth.  It didn’t quite make sense to me why I had to brush my teeth before breakfast.  I knew Mom would make me come back up and brush again when I was done eating.  

* * *

After breakfast (and brushing my teeth again), I carried my suitcase out to the car.  That was when I first noticed the pain in my stomach.  It wasn’t bad pain; not like a broken bone or getting hit in the head by Biff’s baseball bat.  

Now, that really hurt!  My friend Biff Hooper didn’t mean to hit me with his bat.  I was up to bat next and just got too close to Biff’s swing and, POW!  I saw stars, just like the cartoon shows on TV.  

The stomach ache was just…there.  I decided maybe I ate too fast and the food was just having a hard time settling in my stomach.  Anyway, Dad was already starting the car and it was time to go.  I decided to keep my stomach ache to myself.  

* * *

By the time we reached the airport just outside of town, I had completely forgotten about my stomach.  Dad had decided that we would fly to Washington , rather than drive.  

It really didn’t make much of a difference to me, except we were flying in a little plane instead of a big jet.  When I have to fly, I’d rather be in a jet, not a small plane.  I don’t like bouncing and feeling the wind moving the plane.  

As I looked out the car window and saw one of the Wayne ’s little planes waiting for us, I figured this was really part of Frank’s birthday present, too.  

Unlike me, Frank loves planes.  He can’t wait ‘til he’s old enough to fly.  He goes flying with Dad on Sunday afternoons sometimes.  I’d rather play ball or ride bikes or, just about anything else!  

“Hey, is that Jack?” I asked, seeing our friend walking around near the plane.  

“Jack Wayne is flying us today,” Mom tells me and I’m glad.  My Dad has his pilot’s license, but he’s not had it for very long.  Somehow, I feel better about Jack flying us.  

Jack walks over to us as soon as Dad parks the car.  

“Hi Mr. Hardy,” Jack greeted, as he shook hands with Dad.  He tipped his hat to Mom at the same time.  

“Happy birthday, partner,” Jack said to Frank, and he shook Frank’s hand like a man.  Frank blushed, but I think he liked Jack treating him like a grown-up.  

“Hey, Buckaroo!” Jack finally greeted me.  He pulled off his big cowboy hat and stuck it on top of my blond hair.  That made me laugh, but only a short laugh.  The laughing made my stomach hurt again.  

Jack let me keep hold of his hat as we boarded the little plane.  I like Jack a lot.  He’s pretty old, not as old as Mom and Dad, though.  Just the other day, Dad said Jack was pretty mature for only being nineteen.  

Jack’s an Indian; well, at least he’s part Indian.  He’s got cool black hair that he wears pulled back and he always wears a cowboy hat and boots.  

Once we were in the plane, my stomach ache eased up a little.  It still hurt, but I tried to ignore it.  As the plane took off, I really thought I was gonna puke.  I closed my eyes tight and tried not to think about being in a plane and feeling sick.  

My plan must have worked, ‘cause the next thing I know, Dad was shaking my shoulder.  

“Joe,” Dad said in a soft voice.  “Come on, son.  We’re here.”   

“Man, Joe’s such a sleepy-head today,” I heard my brother say.  

“Stop being so mean to me!” I replied, wondering why I felt so grumpy.  I knew Frank wasn’t really being mean.  He’s hardly ever mean on purpose.  But I was feeling angry and my stomach still hurt.  

Dad took hold of my hand and didn’t let go while Frank got to walk by himself.  I didn’t like that one bit.  I know I’m only eight and the youngest in the family, but I wasn’t a baby.  It wasn’t fair.  Besides, my stomach was feeling sick again.  

Near the luggage carousel, Dad let go of my hand for just a second, but that was all the time I needed.  My stomach was churning and I knew I was gonna puke.  I ran as fast as I could to the restrooms.

Let the author know what you think of this story

Home   Library   Authors   Rogue's Gallery   Vehicles   Chums   Message Board  Rap Sheet  Links  Contact

Disclaimer