CONSERVATORIES AND CANDLESTICKS

by

FSUJedi

The Story

 

The Chapters

INTRO

THE STORY

“You’re kidding, right?” eighteen-year-old Justin Michaels asked incredulously as he wandered around the dorm room, packing.

“Nope,” replied his nineteen-year-old roommate, Frank Hardy, brown eyes twinkling with laughter.

“The board game? My roommates, criminology majors, sons of the great Fenton Hardy, and extraordinarily accomplished investigators in their own rights . . . .”

At this, Frank’s year-younger brother Joe, who had been rummaging around the food cabinet looking for snacks, chuckled. “Yup. It all started years ago. I was about six, and it was the first time Dad had had to be away on a case on Thanksgiving Day. We were both pretty bummed—me moreso than Mr. Stoic over there,” which earned Joe a smack on the head by a flying sock roll.

Frank picked up the tale. “Yes, a certain younger brother we both know lamented to Mom that ‘If I were a detective I could be with Dad right now too, and we’d be together on Thanksgiving.’ Mom barely missed a beat. ‘Well, if you’re going to be detectives, you’d better practice your deductive powers.’ To which Joe, confused as usual, had asked ‘Huh?’”

“Hey!” Joe sniffed, returning Frank’s socks the same way he’d received them. “You were just as confused as I was, thankyouverymuch.” Frank raised his hands in surrender as Justin roared in laughter (but ducked behind the couch just in case).

“Okay, okay! Mom explained what deduction was as she headed for the game closet. ‘I’d been planning on giving this to the two of you for Christmas, but—’ and out came the game. We must’ve played for a couple of hours that morning—it wasn’t until Auntie called us to set the table that we realized we had played so long.”

“Over the years,” Joe said as he zipped up his duffel bag, “it became a tradition. After we cleared the breakfast dishes, the four of us would go into the living room, sit on the floor, and try to discover the murderous mansion guest. And, just for the record, I’ve solved more cases than Dad or Frank,” he grinned triumphantly.

“Yeah, but Mom is still the undisputed head sleuth, Sherlock. Last year she won more than the three of us combined,” Frank retorted.

“Wait—you mean you still do this?” Justin queried.

Now it was Frank’s turn to laugh. “Of course! Although I think Mom plays now primarily just to stay out of Aunt Gertrude’s way. Now come on, you two, or we’re going to miss our flight. Don’t want to keep Mom and Dad waiting at the airport, do we?”

***

The next morning, as Joe and Justin descended the stairs to the delectable smell of coffee and cinnamon rolls (another Hardy family tradition, Joe explained), they peeked into the living room. There, in front of the fireplace, the game board was already laid out. This year’s CLUE™ Marathon was about to begin.

 

THE 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.