DISSONANCE
by
Duckling
Chapter 28
The Chapters
A very subdued Biff shuffled slowly through the school halls later that day. He had wanted very much to stay at the hospital, but had finally been persuaded to return to Bayport and go to school. The doctors had been successful in reviving Joe and had administered an antidote. Joe remained in critical condition. Bix’s winning argument was that as no one was allowed to see the youngest Hardy yet for a while someone should tell the others in person.
The gang had listened in wide-eyed horror as Biff gave them his solemn report. Now as the group gathered at their table in the cafeteria, none of them had much of an appetite.
Callie sat picking at her food. Phil just sat quietly, his plate untouched. Chet had an arm around his sister who was still trembling from the thought of how close they had come, again, to losing Joe. Tony sighed before speaking into the silence: “I guess Frank was right.”
“Sheer luck,” Iola said, her voice low and sad. “Both times, it was just sheer luck that someone got to Joe in time.”
Her haunted green eyes looked at each friend in turn. “We almost lost him twice in one week, and the only reason he’s still around is because of sheer, dumb luck.”
“Thank God, then, for sheer dumb luck,” Chet stated with a sigh. He gave his sister a tight squeeze before releasing her and settling back into his seat.
The others nodded their heads in sad agreement. Phil looked up and said, “I can understand now why Frank felt he had to leave. I had taken it as a personal rejection.” Callie squeezed his hand and nodded. She had felt that way too. “But it wasn’t,” Phil continued. “Not really.”
“It was just something he had to do,” Tony added quietly.
“And now he will take Joe away,” Iola said sadly. The girl leaned closer to her brother as she whispered plaintively, “But I don’t want Joe to go.”
Her brother gave her a tight hug. None of them wanted Joe to leave.
Callie turned to Biff. “Will anyone be able to see him today?”
Biff sighed and stared down at his quickly congealing food. He poked at it with his fork as he answered: “I don’t know, Cal. This morning, they weren’t letting anyone see him. Not even family.”
“Then they probably will wait a day or two for non-family visitors,” Iola stated softly, disappointment in her voice.
“It wouldn’t surprise me if Frank arranges to transfer Joe as soon as he’s up for the journey,” Phil added quietly. “So, we may not have Joe around to visit for very long, once we are allowed to do so.”
“Well, then,” Callie said determinedly, “We’ll just have to make the best of what we have. For starters, I think we should do something very special for Joe; remind him how much he means to us . . . and how much we’re going to miss him.”
A spark of interest caught in Iola’s emerald eyes. She straightened up out of her brother’s protective embrace and leaned forward over the table. “That’s a wonderful idea,” she breathed enthusiastically.
“What do you have in mind?” Tony asked. “A party in his hospital room? A group gift? A video of us?”
“All of the above,” Iola cried at the same moment that Callie said: “I’m not sure.”
The girls shared a look and laughed.
“Well,” Phil said with a smile, as he glanced around at his friends. “Looks like we have some major decisions to make.” The gang exchanged smiles. Joe might have to leave them, but he could still carry them in his heart wherever he might go.
***
Frank Hardy sat on a chair in the Family Room the nurse had ushered them into so many hours ago. He was alone in the room. Bix had stepped outside for some fresh air. His parents had left for some reason or other; they had told him but he neither knew where they were nor cared.
All the anger he had felt for his father had strengthened a hundred-fold since the news of Nurse Baker’s relation to Ruthers had been disclosed. A routine check into a suspect’s personal history would have revealed such information. A fraction of his fury was directed at himself; he should have discovered that fact on his own, especially since his father had neglected to do so. That guilt, combined with his residual terror from his earlier nightmare, fed into his rage and roiled within his veins.
The door from the hall opened, and a figure stepped in and closed the door before noting the angry occupant in the room.
Frank’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he leapt to his feet and regarded his father.
Fenton stood rooted to the spot by the malice he saw reflected in his son’s brown eyes. He realized, belatedly, two things: First, that Frank was absolutely furious with him and second, he and the teen were alone in the sound-proofed room. There was nothing to prevent Frank from lashing out, no official excuse to remain civil, at least not in here.
Fenton moved to the center of the room. “Son,” he began, but halted almost immediately as Frank tensed angrily, his eyes aflame with hate. He wondered idly if it were possible for people to snort fire; it sure looked like Frank was about to at any moment. Trying once more, Fenton said tentatively: “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” Frank answered in a cold, venomous voice. “Oh, well then, if you’re sorry, why that takes care of everything.”
Having expected his son to emotionally explode, Fenton found Frank’s iciness even more disconcerting. He had been prepared for fire: his own frustration and anger with Frank were demanding an outlet of their own; he would have welcomed a hot-tempered confrontation. But this; he was not ready for this.
“But . . . Joe’s alive, he’ll be okay.” Fenton said feebly.
“No, father,” Frank corrected in that same voice, “He’s barely alive, and the doctors hope he’ll be okay. And if he does make a complete recovery after all this, it’ll be due to his own efforts, and those of the doctors. It won’t be from anything you have done.
“All you have done for Joe is expose him to grave risks,” Frank continued, regarding his father with disdain. “Expose him to risks, and then walk away.”
‘Walk away?’ The words rang in Fenton’s ears and his anger suddenly ignited within him. How dare Frank accuse him of abandoning Joe? And what right did Frank have for laying the blame squarely on Fenton: Frank hadn’t thought to check the Ruthers file for the whereabouts of the ex-wife either.
“I have never walked away from Joe or you for that matter,” Fenton roared. “If anyone has abandoned Joe, it’s you.”
“What do you think you do when you rush off around the globe on all your cases?” Frank retorted angrily, his iciness quickly melting, “Leaving Joe and Mom to fend for themselves. You know how many enemies you have out there. And yet you willingly left them, and still do, time and time again. It makes me wonder if you ever cared for any one us.”
“Of course I care for all of you!” Fenton thundered. “And what do you expect me to do? Lock my family up in a protective bubble of their own? Don’t you understand? I love you, all of you.”
Frank whirled away from his father. His breaths were coming out in short ragged gasps; it was important to remain master of his emotions, master of this conversation. Finally, he stated in a quiet, cruel voice: “I don’t want your love if it costs my brother’s life.”
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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.