Hardy Boys Fan Fiction at the Hardy Detective Agency Presents "Quality Time" by CQB

The hum of the engines soon had Joe sleeping in his seat. Fenton, too, found himself dozing as they headed west toward Wyoming. Mr. Hardy had found a great, isolated camping spot on the Internet at the foot of the Rockies, where he and Joe would be all alone to enjoy some real quality time together.

59-year old Chuck Fisher had enjoyed being a part of Mr. Hardy’s conspiracy. He had also enjoyed seeing and listening to young Joe’s reaction. Jack had told him that Joe was an interesting kid, but hadn’t gone into any detail. Chuck smiled as he recalled the exchange between Mr. Hardy and his son. He had to agree that Joe Hardy was a real interesting kid, and figured the kid probably gave his parents plenty of headaches. Yet, he couldn’t help but like Joe. Despite Joe’s impetuousness, he seemed to radiate a warmth and friendliness that was quite unusual in teenagers today.

As they neared the Rocky Mountains, Chuck’s years of piloting experience sensed something was wrong. He couldn’t place it yet, but the plane was suddenly shuttering. Chuck frowned as he double-checked his instrument panel. The plane suddenly jerked and bucked again, jostling the two sleeping passengers.

"Is that turbulence, Chuck?" Mr. Hardy asked, sitting up straight in his seat. He immediately noticed that their pilot had a very worried frown creasing his face.

"I’m not sure," came the reply, "but it feels like we are out of fuel. The plane starts to shutter and buck when air gets in the fuel line. Usually, that’s only when the hoses are sucking air from a dry tank. It doesn’t make sense though, since we just refueled in Chicago."

The sputtering and jerking increased and Joe felt his stomach doing flips. He never liked turbulence when he was flying; in fact, it was one of the reasons he still didn’t have a pilot’s license. He only flew when he absolutely had to fly.

Joe glanced out the window and saw the snow covered peaks of the Rockies below them. It was not a good time to have plane trouble. There would be no airport in the mountains for them to make an emergency landing. Joe’s eye caught the movement of the propeller on the right engine. As he watched, the blades slowed down, and gradually came to a stop.

Joe’s heart was hammering in his chest. "A – ah Chuck? Why is that propeller not moving?" Joe asked, his voice cracking with fear. Chuck was too busy trying to send a ‘mayday’ distress call to answer the boy.

Chuck finally received a response from Torrey Tower, a private airstrip in Wyoming, nestled in a quiet valley along the western ridge of the Rockies. He set the necessary coordinates and sent all reserved fuel to the left engine. Chuck began descending and praying at the same time.

Fenton remained silent. Being a pilot himself, he knew Chuck didn’t need any interruptions or interference when faced with engine trouble. He knew there was nothing he could say to Joe right now that would even begin to calm the terror he saw in his son’s eyes. He also, began to pray that they would make it to the airstrip.

Joe couldn’t tell how far they had descended because of the misty, cloud cover that surrounded the tops of the mountains. He prayed that Chuck was as good a pilot as Jack, and would be able to land on an unfamiliar airfield in thick cloud coverage.

Suddenly, there was a break in the clouds, and all three men glanced anxiously out the windows of the small plane. All three came to the same, immediate conclusion. They were about to die.

* * *

"I can’t believe it!" Frank Hardy said into the telephone as he sat on the edge of the bed in his hotel room, "I wish I could have seen Joe’s face when he got on the plane! What a great plan! I sure hope Dad and Joe have a memorable time together."

"I’m sure they will, Sweetie," Mrs. Hardy said smiling. She continued to talk with Frank for a few minutes, and then exchanged good-byes.

"What was that all about?" asked a small, wiry boy with wavy brown hair and wire-frame glasses. Frank Hardy ran his hand through his thick, dark brown hair as he related Joe’s "kidnapping" to his friend, Phil Cohen.

The two teens had spent a busy day at the computer convention, learning about many new computer devices and components that would soon be available on the public market. After a quick dinner in the hotel restaurant, the boys returned to their room and made calls home to their families.

"I’m glad Joe is getting to spend some real quality time with your dad," Phil considered, "I’ll bet this will be a good experience for both of them."

"Yeah, I think you’re right," Frank agreed, climbing into his bed, "Joe doesn’t get much time alone with dad. This will be a trip he’ll never forget!"

Let the authors know what you think of this story

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

Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors 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.