DISSONANCE
by
Duckling
Chapter 12
The Chapters
As Biff drove back to Bayport, he mentally replayed his conversation with Frank. He found that he suddenly had more questions than answers. There was so much more he should have asked him. He toyed briefly with the idea of calling him on the new cell phone but quickly discarded it. The phone was for Joe to use, not him. Thinking things over, Biff decided he needed to tell Joe. He flipped his own cell open and quickly dialed home.
“Dad, hi, it’s me.” Biff spoke into the phone. “Listen, do you mind if I spend the night at Joe’s?”
He listened as Mr. Hooper gave his assent.
“Thanks, Dad. I’ll be home sometime tomorrow.”
“Yes, Joe will let me borrow some clothes. Okay. Thanks again Dad. Bye.”
Ending that call, Biff hit a speed dial button.
“Hey, Joe,” he spoke into the handset. “Listen, do you mind if I stay at your place tonight? I have tons to tell you. It’s pretty important. Okay. I’ll be there in about an hour.
“Where am I? I’m on the highway. Listen, I’ll explain when I get there, okay? Just have some hot chocolate ready. Right. Bye.”
With that, Biff flipped his cell shut and concentrated on his driving.
***
Joe knocked softly on his parents’ bedroom door.
“Come in,” Laura answered. “Hi, sweetie. What’s up?
“Biff just called,” he answered. “He asked if he could stay the night. Said it was important. You don’t mind, do you?
Fenton turned from the suitcase he was packing. “Not at all. Is something wrong?”
Joe glanced at the suitcase for a minute before responding. “Not that I’m aware of.
“You leaving again?” he inquired casually.
Fenton sighed and sat on the bed. “Yes. Sam and I still have an active investigation going. I could be of more help if I returned.”
“You leaving tonight?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh,” Joe replied. “Well, good luck.” Turning to his mother, he stated, “I’ll get out some clean sheets for Biff.”
“There are some chocolate chip cookies in the pantry,” Laura called out. “I baked them this afternoon.”
“Yum,” they heard Joe say as he departed down the hall.
***
Joe sat on his bed, staring at the new cell-phone cupped in his palm. His mind was still reeling from all that Biff had told him. Fenton Hardy had already left and Laura had retired for the night.
Biff shifted uncomfortably in the silence. He had relayed most of his conversation with Frank to the younger boy, judiciously omitting to mention when Frank intended to return for his brother. Now, as he regarded his friend anxiously, he wondered if he had been wise in telling Joe anything at all.
“That explains the argument, then.” Joe’s voice, no more than a whisper, was unexpectedly loud in the hushed house. “They got into a major argument two weeks ago.”
“You think Frank confronted your dad?”
“That would be my guess,” Joe replied, his blue eyes solemn. “How did he look? Was he okay?” Joe asked suddenly.
“He looked fine. Just like normal. He seemed, well, almost happy.”
Joe sighed. He toyed with the edge of his comforter, frowning slightly.
“Joe,” Biff began cautiously, “How are you with all this, I mean really? You’ve barely said a word about anything, and even though I know you say you understand and support Frank, we can tell that he hurt you.”
Joe frowned deeply at the comforter for a minute before replying. “He’s not the only one to have ever hurt me,” he said at last. “And at least his reasons are easier to believe, easier to cope with.”
Joe looked up at his friend. “Pain is unavoidable in this life, or at least, that’s true in my life.”
Biff nodded.
“But I know that whatever pain Frank inflicts on me he inflicts on himself. That’s just the way it is. Other people . . . other people have hurt me, but their motives weren’t as easy to deal with. Some deliberately intended to hurt me while others . . . simply didn’t care whether I got hurt or not. Frank cares when he hurts me, cares when I get hurt.”
“Besides,” a smile suddenly lit up his features, “I still have you and the gang.”
Biff smiled, relieved at Joe’s answer. But there still remained one more question to be asked.
“What about the gang? What should we tell them?”
Joe regarded his best friend silently as he considered an answer.
“Well,” he drawled out finally, “It seems that Frank still intends to stay away. I mean, he doesn’t seem interested in re-establishing old ties. So, I suppose that means we should keep the others in the dark, although that hardly seems fair. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t think Callie would take too kindly to the idea of Frank just up and walking out on her, only to have him pop back in at his own convenience. A bit . . . insensitive, if you know what I mean.”
“I think that I just might,” Biff stated softly. “Know what you mean, that is.” After all, wasn’t that precisely what Frank had done to him? Yet, curiously, he felt no resentment or bitterness about it.
He looked up into concerned blue eyes and smiled. Deciding to change topics, he nodded at the cell phone nestled in Joe’s hand.
“So, you gonna call him?”
Joe looked down at the tiny phone. “Should I?”
“I think that’s why he gave it to me. So that you could call him whenever you wanted. That’s what he said at least.”
“Besides, if you don’t mind, I need a shower.” Biff smiled at his friend. Joe returned the smile as he pressed the speed dial.
***
Frank began shutting himself in for the night. He checked that the door was locked and then headed into the kitchen to grab a glass of milk. He smiled as he remembered his brother bearing into Frank’s old room the tray of milk and cookies they shared almost every evening. Apparently, Frank had retained that nightly ritual, well, the milk part, at least. He ought to buy some cookies, he mused, so as to keep with tradition. He sat down at the kitchen table and reflected on his time with Biff. He wondered if Biff would tell Joe, and what he would tell him. It would be too late tonight for him to tell Joe anything, Frank decided; the earliest would be tomorrow morning.
Frank was just about to rinse out his glass when the cell phone rang, and a huge grin broke out across his face. That was the ring tone he had programmed for Joe. Joe was calling him.
With barely concealed excitement, he picked up the phone. “Hello,” he breathed, and then beamed as he heard his brother’s beloved voice on the other end.
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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.