DISSONANCE
by
Duckling
Chapter 11
The Chapters
Frank Hardy took a sip of coffee as he waited patiently for Biff to arrive at the truck stop. He had been relieved when Biff actually afforded Frank the opportunity to speak; even more so when the burly blond had agreed to meet him here. It didn’t take much to figure out that Biff was furious with him. Frank suddenly thought of his brother, and wondered if Joe was as furious as everyone else must be. He hoped not. Maybe Biff would tell him.
Suddenly Biff’s tall, muscular form appeared at his table. Frank waited until Biff had seated himself before greeting him.
“Thanks for coming,” he stated softly.
“You said this was for Joe. I’m here for Joe. Not you.” Biff returned sourly.
Frank looked down at his coffee for a minute. A waitress appeared and the two boys placed their orders.
“It was still good of you to come,” Frank continued at length. “I promised to tell you what this is all about, and I will. But you must believe me when I say I’m doing this all for Joe.”
Biff snorted in disbelief.
Frank fastened his rich dark eyes on Biff. “Listen, and decide for yourself.
“You remember that terrifying week last March, don’t you, that week when Joe just vanished?”
Biff nodded. He doubted if he could ever forget that week, or Frank’s anguish at being unable to find any trace of Joe’s whereabouts.
“You and your dad had been scrambling for clues for days; no one knew who had Joe and why.”
Frank frowned. “No,” he corrected quietly. “That’s not quite true. You see, my father knew both who had Joe and why. He knew before it even happened.”
Biff stared at Frank incredulously.
“You see,” Frank continued, bitterness clearly evident in his voice, “My father received a warning that listed the date of Joe’s kidnapping, the name of the person who would take him, and what exactly the kidnapper intended to inflict upon him.”
Frank looked up into Biff’s eyes, fury smoldering within those dark depths. “And my father,” Frank spat out, “ignored it. It was so explicit, that he assumed that it had to be a prank. It wasn’t even worth his time to verify whether or not it was. In short, he forgot all about the note. It was sitting on his desk that entire week. My brother was being tortured and the identity of the kidnapper, the location of the hiding place was in an envelope half-shoved under the blotter.”
Biff was beyond disbelief. How world-renowned, super-sleuth Fenton Hardy could have forgotten or overlooked a warning like that was beyond his comprehension.
“I’m the one who discovered the note, and when I showed it to my father, he paled and about collapsed. The rest you know: how we found Joe barely alive, how we almost lost him again at the hospital. And all the time, Joe could have been spared all or part of the ordeal he went through.”
“Oh man,” Biff breathed. “Joe . . . never mentioned anything to me . . . .”
“Joe doesn’t know,” Frank interrupted his friend gently. “He still doesn’t.”
The waitress reappeared with their orders and placed the steaming plates in front of them.
“I thought,” continued Frank, “that maybe it was some major fluke. I mean, surely my father must have been concussed or something not to have figured it out sooner. So, I decided to watch him. And as the weeks passed, I realized that it wasn’t a fluke.”
“You surely don’t mean that he intended for Joe to get hurt.”
“No, I don’t think he intended for him to get hurt, but he didn’t care if anyone threatened to harm Joe or not. I had a friend of mine in the City post some threats as a test. Surely, I thought, after this he would take the threats seriously.”
“Did he?”
“No.” Frank’s eyes were hard. “He didn’t even give them a second glance. It was obvious to me by then that he wasn’t interested in keeping Joe safe. Neither, really, was mom.”
“But surely your mom would . . . .”
“She didn’t. I had a few mailed to her. She read them and gasped, then showed them to dad. Once he pronounced them harmless, she dutifully threw them away. Out of sight, out of mind.”
“I closed out my accounts and began looking for a place of my own. I needed to have everything ready.”
“So,” Biff breathed, comprehension dawning, “You ran away so you could set up a place for Joe; a place where he could be safe.”
“Yes,” agreed Frank.
“But why didn’t you tell Joe? Why didn’t you take him with you?” Biff exclaimed. “How could you deliberately hurt him like that?” Biff’s anger had died away; where anger once had been there was now just pain.
“I never knew he could play the piano like that,” Biff added, still somewhat awed. “But I could hear the pain and heartbreak he was feeling as clearly as I hear you now.”
Frank suddenly looked down, ashamed. “I didn’t mean to hurt him. I left him a letter, telling him as much as I could.”
“What about us?” Biff asked quietly.
Frank slowly looked up and met his friend’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I knew that it would hurt you guys, but please understand that I did what I did for Joe. He’s suffered so much as it is.”
It’s always about Joe, isn’t it, Biff thought. It always had been about Joe, Biff realized with sudden clarity. You were allowed in Frank’s life only if it was compatible with Frank’s need to protect Joe.
“So, why are you telling all this to me?” Biff asked softly. He was no longer angry at Frank. Even the pain had subsided with the realization that for Frank, things would always center on Joe.
Frank leaned forward. His voice was more animated now. “Because I need to be told when Joe gets hurt again.”
“What?”
“It’ll happen again, Biff. A real threat will come and be ignored. If I can’t prevent it, I want to at least know as soon as it happens.”
“But why can’t you fight this from your home? Why all this?” Biff argued weakly.
“Because if I were still at home, I wouldn’t be able to have everything ready for Joe somewhere else. Biff, I have to completely conceal Joe. I have to hide him so well that no one will ever find him.”
“Even from us?”
Frank averted his gaze. “I don’t know,” he sighed softly. “But definitely from my parents.”
“So, you’ll take him the next time he gets hurt.”
“After he’s well enough to move, yes.”
Biff sighed and finished off his soda. He glanced at his watch, surprised to see how late it was getting.
“So, what do I tell Joe?”
“Oh, here.” Frank reached into his pocket and withdrew a compact cell phone. Passing it across to Biff he said, “That’s for Joe. It’s pre-programmed with my number. He can call at anytime. You can tell him whatever you want.”
“What about the gang?”
Frank thought for a moment and said, “I’ll let you or Joe decide. After my behavior, I’ve really no right to say.”
Then Frank looked at his friend and smiled, “We should be heading out, don’t you think? It’s getting late.”
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
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.