The tall, slender, ash-blonde girl in the lead kept halting progress, impatiently tapping her feet against the ground in an effort to dislodge sand, dirt and small pebbles from her sandals. The blonde young man beside her was evidently trying to master the art of walking on his hands, for he kept flipping into an upside-down position, managing a ‘step’ or two on his palms, then falling over once more. His halting progress kept him veering off in different directions, and occasionally he would have to jog a few steps to catch up with the others.

The other girl, a petite coppery-haired lass, was walking closer to the water’s edge than the others, casually swinging her own sandals from one hand. The absence of shoes made for a more cautious approach to where she stepped, but at least she was free of having to shake sand out of them. She watched her friends’ antics with amusement, a sweet smile curving her lips, and a dimple evident in one cheek. Every so often, she called out encouragement to the blonde guy trying to balance on his hands, or turned to look back at the fourth member of the party.

Walking slightly behind the other three, a tall, dark-haired young man kept swinging a compact video camera into position and squinting into the viewfinder, evidently filming the lake, the mountains, his brother’s attempts to walk on his hands, the blonde girl’s exasperated struggles with sand in her shoes…and each and every fleeting change of expression or movement which the little redhead made.

"Blast and drat!" Vanessa Bender’s voice betrayed an intense desire to use more pungent terms, as she stopped once again to tap grit from her shoes. She stood on one foot and yanked the other sandal off, shaking it out so vigorously that she lost her balance. "Oh, for…." She flailed her arms, trying to right herself.

"Steady, babe! Hang on!" Somehow, the blonde guy was there, holding her up before she tumbled to the ground. "Why don’t you just take them off, like Megan?" Joe Hardy reasonably inquired of his girlfriend, steadying her with an arm about her waist.

Vanessa gave an exasperated snort. "I was trying to keep cleaner," she explained. "And I didn’t want to step on anything sharp…." Her voice trailed off; she sighed, and then resignedly bent to remove the remaining sandal. "I give up." But her expresssion was slightly distasteful, nevertheless, as she surveyed the ground. She glanced up, as the other two approached them. "Frank, I don’t suppose there’s any hope you didn’t get that impression of a stork on film, is there?"

"Captured for posterity!" Frank Hardy answered cheerfully, patting the camcorder which now swung from its strap about his neck. "Don’t worry, Van – you make a lovely stork."

Megan chuckled. "Don’t worry is right, Vanessa – I’ll edit that tape." She snuggled against Frank, wrapping her arms about him, her red-gold curls resting against his shoulder. "Just look at the color of the water – did you ever see anything so beautiful in your life?"

Obediently, the other three swung to look at the deep turquoise lake, and assenting murmurs came from Joe and Vanessa. Frank, however, remained silent, evidently giving Megan’s rhetorical question deep consideration. At last, he turned to his girlfriend, removed her sunglasses, and stared thoughtfully into her somewhat-startled eyes.

"Yes, I have." he finally gave judgment. "Every time I look at you."

Megan dropped her head forward against his chest, laughing, as her cheeks turned pink. "You crazy…" she murmured. But Frank was at least halfway correct; Megan’s eyes were indeed a turquoise blue shade that rivaled the lake waters, and moreover, Lake Tahoe wasn’t graced with eyelashes of incredible length, the way Megan Wright was.

Joe grinned and winked at Vanessa, then followed his brother’s example, and pulled her closer into his arms, as Frank bent to kiss Megan. For a few timeless moments, the four stood motionless on the lake shore.

Vanessa was the first to return to reality. She freed herself from Joe’s embrace, but kept her fingers entwined with his as they resumed their slow stroll down the beach. "I’m glad your mom asked me to come along on this vacation!" she said. "It was so foul, when Mom’s emergency meetings with the producers couldn’t be postponed, and all our plans were spoiled! And your mom was so nice to invite me. I thought I was going to have to go without a vacation this year."

"I’m glad too," Megan put in, replacing her sunglasses as they walked. "That is, I’m glad she asked you – and me! Not glad that your vacation plans with your mom fell through, Van." she amended hastily. "I’m pleased that Laura wanted me to come along and keep you company. And this is like – a little piece of Heaven!" she sighed blissfully, gazing once more at the sparkling lake waters.

"It’s more fun with you two here." Joe declared. "Frank and that new camcorder make for dull company." Joe’s sapphire-blue eyes twinkled mischievously at his older brother, daring him to argue the matter, although Joe really didn’t mean what he said. But Frank’s brown eyes were riveted on the girl beside him, and he paid scant attention to Joe’s gibe.

Nineteen-year-old Frank Hardy and Joe, a year younger, were the sons of prominent private investigator Fenton Hardy, and his wife Laura. Residents of the East-coast city of Bayport, the Hardys had planned this family vacation to South Lake Tahoe as a much-needed respite from the humid August heat and the pressures of Fenton’s work. Frank and Joe, detectives in their own right, as well as students, had been glad of the break too. And having their girlfriends included, at Laura’s behest, had figuratively added frosting and ice cream to the cake which was vacation.

Frank and Megan were preparing to start their sophomore years at Bayport Community College, while Joe and Vanessa were anticipating being college freshmen, and this mid-August jaunt was a welcome change from summer jobs. But while Fenton and Laura looked forward to lake cruises, taking in some shows, and perhaps a little casino action, the teens had more active pursuits in mind. And Frank wanted to use his new toy, purchased just the week before. He had sunk most of two weeks’ pay from his piloting job at Jack Wayne’s air cargo service into the sleek little device, and was rightfully enamored with it.

"Frank’s camera isn’t all that bad." Megan now defended her boyfriend. "Just remember, he got that marvelous reenactment we saw yesterday, on film!"

Joe looked slightly pained, but had to acknowledge Megan was right. "For Shakespeare, it was pretty good," he admitted. "I’ll bet you and Frank got more out of it than I did, though…since you like Shakespeare, and he took two terms of it last year."

"It’s August." Frank reminded her gently, and she poked him in the ribs.

"It was good," Vanessa declared. "and since we’re staying right there at Caesars Palace, I’ll bet we’ll get to see them do more. Joe," she added, studying him critically, "you could pass for one of them, with those curls you’ve let grow!"

Joe burst out laughing, but struck a pose and began declaiming, somewhat to the others’ surprise – for he wasn’t much of a drama buff – and moreover, he had the words correct!

" ‘O Caesar…great Caesar…speak, hands, for me!’" He staggered, miming being stabbed, and croaked out a fairly credible " ‘Et tu, Brute! Then fall, Caesar.’" and collapsed to the sand, groaning piteously.

Megan shrieked "’Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead!’" and laughed until she had to sit down on the sand.

Vanessa and Frank cracked up too; Frank shaking his head and wishing he’d had his camera on during Joe’s dramatic flight. Vanessa knelt beside the fallen ‘Caesar’ and put her arms about him, hugging him hard as she laughed.

Eventually, the four managed to compose themselves enough to continue their walk along the beach, and Frank resumed his sporadic filming. When they reached a small beach stand selling beverages and packaged snacks, they decided to stop and get drinks, for the morning sun was rapidly growing hot.

"What’s on tap for today?" Joe inquired, idly wrapping a strand of Vanessa’s long hair about his hand and stroking its silk with his thumb, as he sipped his juice.

Megan dug into the canvas tote bag she had been carrying. "I’ve got a tourist guide." she announced. "Listen to all these things." She rapidly turned the pages of the little book. "We could go to see Vikingsholm Castle, for instance."

Frank craned his neck to read over her shoulder. "Vikingsholm…yadda, yadda, yadda…a mile walk down and then back up from Emerald Bay?" He winced. "Remember, we can’t drive the car Dad rented, because we’re not 21, so it’s travel by foot, Baby! Or rent bicycles, or motorcycles, or something." He read a bit more. "Heck, the only way to get there is walk or take a boat!"

Megan frowned thoughtfully, and went back to turning pages.

"Wimp." Joe remarked, sotto voce. Then, louder: "How about we take the tram up to Heavenly ski resort? The view’s supposed to be something else. Or we could go kayaking, or biking, or a hot-air balloon ride…."

"Ambitious, aren’t you?" Vanessa commented. "We could just lie around the pool at the hotel! Or swim in the lake, for that matter."

"Let’s do that later, in the afternoon," Megan suggested. "And do more active stuff now, while it’s still cool." She cocked an inquisitive eyebrow in Frank’s direction, and the elder Hardy boy nodded agreement. Of course, Frank would probably have agreed to just about anything Megan suggested – short of hiking a hilly mile to Vikingsholm Castle and back, that is!

"First, though, I want to go back to Caesars and get my bag, so that I’ll have sunscreen, and stuff." Vanessa said. "And my hat. I don’t want to go all day without a hat; the sun’s too hot."

Joe gave her a quick, concerned look. He remembered all too well how worried he’d been when Vanessa had been affected by the heat, back in July. Even though it had apparently been a one-time thing, and she’d assured him again and again that she wasn’t usually bothered by the sun, he still fretted. He rose to his feet and extended a hand to her.

"Let’s do that," he said. "and decide exactly what we want to do, on the walk back."

*****

When they reached the lovely Caesars Palace hotel, Frank was once more seized with the impulse to film things. He directed them towards the colonnade, where ‘authentic’ Roman statues stood, and paintings decorated what walls there were.

"Honey, go stand over there by that Roman soldier," he requested now. "Pretend you’ve got a tray or something, like that other statue."

Megan, shaking her head incredulously at the ridiculous things she did for the man she loved, obeyed, but couldn’t manage to keep a straight face long enough for Frank to film her very successfully. She kept breaking into fits of giggles, egged on by Joe, who was making faces behind his brother’s back. Frank finally tumbled to what was going on, and swung about, catching Joe in the middle of his antics. With a shrug, he taped them.

"All right, all right…Vanessa, how about you? Go over there and try to look Roman." Frank directed next, once he had stopped laughing at Joe.

Vanessa moved to where he pointed, and struck a pose, left arm and hand bent at 90-degree angles in front, and the same with her right, only pointing backwards. Her nearly-six-foot height increased the drama of her stance, as she faced sideways, presenting her profile to the camera. Megan and Joe exploded into laughter again.

"No, no!" Frank wondered if Steven Spielberg ever had to put up with things like this. "That’s Egyptian, not Roman!"

"Make your own girlfriend pose, but leave mine alone," Joe defended Vanessa. "She’s perfect the way she is; she doesn’t need to look Roman, or Greek, or whatever."

"I can’t, she’s too short," Frank replied absently, still peering through the viewfinder. "Vanessa’s more classical looking – ow!" he broke off, as Megan’s small fist firmly connected with his bicep. "Hey, I didn’t mean you were too short – I mean, honey, you’re just right, but Van’s more the aristocratic, Roman type – OW!" Chagrined, he looked down from his 6’1" height at his foot-shorter girlfriend, as she whacked him again. "Sorry, Baby. That sort of came out wrong."

Chortling at his older brother’s faux pas, Joe walked out onto the patch of grass again, and resumed his efforts to walk on his hands. Passers-by glanced, then openly stared, and one or two applauded. Frank, deciding that any action was better than none, turned on the camcorder once more, and taped him. To everyone’s surprise, Joe was actually beginning to get the hang of it, managing to stay balanced on his hands for longer and longer periods of time.

"There’s a really nice statue over there," Megan commented at last, pointing towards the little outdoor theater where they had watched the Julius Caesar reenactment the previous day. Frank looked where she indicated, and nodded approvingly.

"Would you and Vanessa walk over there and pose by it?" he requested. "Not ‘Roman’ this time – just walk over and stand and look pretty." He grinned engagingly down at Megan, and she returned his smile with one of her own, one that made her azure eyes glow and her dimple flash – and made Frank Hardy’s heart skip a beat or two, in response.

The two girls obligingly strolled over and took their places beside the statue, and Frank once again turned on the camera. Behind them, he could see what was evidently part of the Shakespearean drama group rehearsing a scene. It must be Julius Caesar again, Frank decided, absently noting that the action taking place seemed to be similar to the reenactment they had witnessed the day before. I wonder what else they do, besides that one scene? Deciding it would give an interesting contrast to the girls and the statue, he let the film run a minute or two longer.

"There! Very nice!" he said at last, and switched off the power. Megan and Vanessa walked across the grass to join the boys, and the four set out for the hotel, so that Vanessa could get her bag and hat.