DISSONANCE
by
Duckling
Chapter 9
The Chapters
As the last bell of the day sounded, Frank packed his books into his backpack and caught up to James and Adrian who were waiting for him out in the hall. The three boys trudged silently to the gym. Bix, already suited up for practice, greeted them as they entered the locker room.
“Coach is out on the field,” he announced. “I told him about you, he said to bring you on out.”
“What about pads?” asked Adrian as he changed.
Bix shrugged. “He didn’t say. But I think the guys always keep a spare set of pads on the sidelines.”
“They do,” confirmed James, as he finished lacing up his shoes. Then he glanced over and grinned at Frank. “But you sure will look mighty puny out there, until we get you a uniform.”
“Puny?” Frank spluttered, incredulous. He had been called many things, but never puny. In fact, his tall muscular frame was well proportioned; at least, that’s what Callie had always told him.
Adrian laughed and a gleam of amusement danced in Bix’ eyes.
“Yes, puny,” James reiterated innocently as they made their way across to the field. “I mean, you look strong enough for a linebacker, but well, without all that extra padding, you’re gonna look pretty puny out there.”
“Scrawny might be a better word,” Bix put in slyly.
“And even with the extra padding,” Adrian added mischievously.
“But it’ll just be for a day,” James continued equably. “I’m sure Coach will want you on the team.”
Frank glanced in mild disbelief at each of the three faces around him before doubling over with laughter.
Finally, after he had caught his breath, he stated, “You guys are just too much. Scrawny indeed. And what does that make you, Carter? I can see that Brian and Adrian are big guys, but I’m not much smaller than you.”
The expression on James’ face was so uncannily similar to one Frank had often seen on his brother’s own, that he was momentarily disconcerted by it as the tall good-natured redhead said simply, “Me, Hank? Why that makes me just about right.”
***
Practice passed quickly for Frank; Coach had recognized a star player in his newest recruit and quickly gave him the position. As the team headed back to the locker room to shower and change, Frank caught up to Bix.
“Brian,” he began.
“Bix, Hank. My friends call me Bix.” Frank looked up into the pale gold eyes and saw there for the first time a spark of warmth.
“Bix,” Frank corrected himself with a smile. “I have to thank you for telling me about the opening on the team. But I have to ask why you thought I could play.”
Bix looked out over the lawn as they walked. Frank waited patiently, wondering at the time it was taking for Bix to formulate a response. Finally, the sturdy boy began to speak.
“You were phenomenal out there; it was obvious that you can play any position you want.”
Frank found himself slightly disappointed by this indirect answer. But he waited patiently for his new friend to continue.
“I know you played as quarterback at your old school. And Hardin,” Bix said softly, “I’ve met you before. You and your brother.”
Frank felt all the color drain from his face. No one here knew he had a brother. He stopped walking and turned anxious brown eyes towards Bix.
Bix had stopped too, and had turned to face Frank directly. “You see, Hank,” he pronounced the name softly as if stressing the point that he knew it was an alias, “I have a cousin who lives in Bayport. From time to time, I go to visit him. I was there over the summer.”
Now pale-gold eyes locked onto rich chocolate ones. “We played you and your friends in a couple games of touch football in the park. I had heard about the dynamic Hardy duo and begged my cousin to set up a game. He did. You two were there,” suddenly Bix smiled, “and man, were you two amazing.”
Frank remembered the game, although he didn’t remember Bix. But that was no surprise; he and his friends often joined up with guys from other schools for impromptu games of one sport or another, usually as friends of friends.
“Gary Price,” Frank said suddenly as a name and image materialized in his mind.
“Yeah,” confirmed Bix.
Frank sighed. He hadn’t expected to have been unmasked at all, let alone so soon.
“There’s another reason why I know, though,” Bix continued. “You see, my uncle is a sports reporter for the local newspaper. He likes to keep track of area players and compare their performance with that of other players from across the state. He’s been talking about the two of you for years. Well, he called me before practice to tell me that Bayport’s star quarterback had apparently run away. Frank Hardy was ranked third in the state. Uncle Bill told me that now I would be ranked third.”
Frank looked down at the ground, his strong shoulders slumped in defeat.
“I wanted to tell you, though,” Bix said solemnly, “that your secret is safe with me. I don’t know why you’re here or what prompted you to leave. But I can tell you that I’m mighty glad you’re here, and that we’re lucky to have you on our team.”
Frank raised his eyes and gave a small smile.
Suddenly Frank realized that he had barely spoken two words since practice had ended. Now he stood regarding Bix thoughtfully for a minute. It was obvious that Bix knew his identity and that he had run away. But the other boy had promised not to betray his secret, and from the little he knew of Bix, Frank was certain that it was not a promise that had been lightly made. Finally, Frank said quietly: “Thank you, Bix.”
“And I’ll tell you one other thing,” Bix added suddenly, a slight smile on his face, “With you on board, we might just have a chance to make it to the playoffs. You just might have the chance to take on that brother of yours yet.”
***
Tony Prito sat back against his seat in the noisy lunchroom and regarded his friends carefully. Even though it had been five days since Frank had run away, Callie still looked small and emotionally fragile, carefully hedged in by a feisty Iola on one side and a solicitous Phil on the other. Tony hid a small smile as he glanced at Callie and Phil. Phil’s interest in the pretty girl was becoming more and more apparent every day. Phil himself looked a bit better, too, the Italian youth noted. Chet and Biff thought it the result of Callie’s influence on him, but Tony had a shrewder notion that Joe was in large part the reason for the happy transformation in Phil from morose to merely mellow.
Joe. Tony let his gaze fall on the younger Hardy. He had been impressed with Joe’s handling of the whole mess. While a bit more subdued than normal, Joe seemed to remain essentially the same. He was still the bright, cheerful center of their little universe, pouring his energy and strength into his friends, comforting them at a time when most people expected him to need to be comforted. Tony wondered if it was just a façade. Joe was very adept at hiding his pain from those closest to him. It would be just like Joe to pretend that everything was fine while he focused on meeting the emotional needs of others.
A sudden simmering of anger rushed through him. The emotion became so intense that Tony had to avert his eyes to avoid Joe’s accidentally seeing the fury he felt towards Frank. Feeling a pair of eyes watching him, Tony looked quickly over at Chet, who raised a questioning eyebrow. The Italian youth flashed Chet a brief smile and shook his head. Chet continued to regard his friend critically, following Tony’s gaze to Joe before finally nodding his understanding.
Tony watched as Chet caught his sister’s eyes and nodded imperceptibly towards Joe. The raven-haired girl slid her arm through Joe’s and smiled up into the surprised blond’s face. She leaned close to him and, without a word, laid her head on his shoulder. Joe placed his arm around her and hugged her close. He shot a sharp speculative glance at Chet, then Tony, before returning his attention to the girl nestled against him. Not a single word had been spoken between them, but the message of concern and the offer of comfort had been communicated as effectively as if there had.
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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.