CHRISTMAS VIGIL

by

CQB

CHAPTER 4

THE CHAPTERS

INTRO

PREFACE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

Fenton Hardy looked up as Sam Radley handed him a cup of coffee.  

“Got it from a nurse who said it was better than the stuff in the vending machines,” Sam stated as he sat next to his partner.  

He didn’t need to ask if Fenton had seen a doctor yet about Joey.  He could tell by his friend’s miserable state that there had not been any word on the little boy’s condition yet.  

Sam heard a commotion further down the hall near the entrance to the emergency room.  He looked up and saw Laura Hardy’s pale, panic stricken face.  Con Riley was beside her, carrying Frankie.  

He nudged Fenton.  The dark haired detective glanced up and caught his wife’s terrified blue eyes in his own.  In seconds the young couple was embracing.  

“I’m sorry, Love,” Fenton kissed his wife’s soft, blond hair, “I’m so sorry.”  

Sam moved away with Con and the sleeping child.  They felt the couple needed some privacy.  

“My baby?” Laura asked softly, letting herself be guided to a seat by her husband.  

“I d-don’t know yet,” Fenton admitted.  “I know he was hit by a bullet, but I don’t know how bad it is.”  

As if on cue, the gray doors finally opened.  Fenton and Laura looked up hopefully as a man in green surgical clothes approached them.  

“Are you the parents of the child who was shot?”  

“Yes,” Fenton stood, supporting Laura.  “Joe.  Our son’s name is Joe.”  

Sam and Con joined them, and little Frank, now awake, quietly took hold of his mother’s hand.  

“I’m Dr. Zachary Abrams.  Joe is in critical condition and we presently have him on a ventilator,” he began.  “He lost a lot of blood, both from a slight head wound and from a bullet lodged in his right lung.  

“It took us a while to get his blood pressure up enough for us to do surgery.  Once he stabilized a bit, I went in and removed the bullet from his lung.  

“There was a lot of blood vessel damage and two ribs are broken.  The lung is collapsed for now and we have him heavily sedated.   

“The head wound probably came from the fall to the cement.  He has a mild concussion, but fortunately, no skull fracture.  

“Will he be alright?” Fenton asked.  

“The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours will tell us more,” the doctor carefully said.  “He’s so small and has so little to fight with, this really could be touch and go for awhile.  I’m sorry I can’t be any more optimistic than that.”  

“C-can we be w-with him?” Laura asked, wanting more than anything to see her baby for herself.  

“The nurse will let you know when he’s settled in the Pediatric Intensive Care. Two at a time and only immediate family can visit,” Dr. Abrams glanced at Frank clutching his mother’s hand, “And, no children under 14, I’m afraid.  

“One of you can stay the night with him as well,” the doctor offered before going back out the way he’d come.  

“Daddy, is Joey sick again?”  

The adults, still stunned by the doctor’s words, were suddenly aware of a frightened little boy in front of them that needed some answers.  

“I’ll go call my wife and your parents, Fent,” Sam said, and he and Con Riley left the Hardy family alone.  

Fenton carefully explained to the wide-eyed eight-year-old that his brother was very sick, because a bad man had hurt him.  

Perceptive for his age, Frank knew that whatever had happened to Joey was really bad.  He realized in his young heart that he might never see his brother again, and he fell against his father’s chest in tears.  

* * *

The next few days went by in a blur.  Fenton and Laura took turns watching over their younger son and comforting their older son.   

Fenton’s parents, his sister Gertrude, the Radley’s and several other friends took turns keeping watch of Frank and visiting with Laura and Fenton in the PICU waiting room.  

For hours on end, the couple would sit beside Joe’s bed, reading to him, talking to him or singing his favorite songs.  Laura constantly touched him: rubbing his arms or legs or just stroking his pale cheek.  

* * *

“I know if I could talk to Joey, he’d wake up and get better faster!”  

Gertrude Hardy looked at her nephew and smiled.  “I’m sure you’re right, Frank, but rules are rules.  You aren’t allowed to visit Joe in the hospital because you are too young.”  

Ethel Radley bit her lip.  She had come over to the Hardy home to watch Frank for a while so Gertrude could bring Laura home for a quick shower and change of clothes.  It did seem unfair that Frank couldn’t see Joey, or at least, talk to him.  

“Be good for Aunt Ethel,” Gertrude ordered as she kissed the top of Frank’s head.  “I’ll tell Joey you said ‘Hello’.”  

Ethel watched the dejected little boy for a few minutes, when she suddenly had an idea.  

“Frankie.”  

The child looked up with sad brown eyes.  

“What if you could give Joey a message?” Ethel suggested.  “I’ll bet your dad has a tape recorder.  You could talk into the tape machine and we could record a message.  When your mom goes back to the hospital, she can play it for Joey.”  

“Yes!” Frank jumped from his seat, a huge grin on his face.  

Ethel took the child’s hand and they went in search of a tape recorder.   

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