Joe took a seat on the sofa in front of Dr. Turner’s desk and sat quietly looking around the office while the doctor finished reading something in the file, his, Joe assumed, that lay open on his desk.

“Good morning, Joe,” Dr. Turner greeted him, pulling Joe’s gaze from the books that lined the wall to his left.

Joe nodded but didn’t speak.  “Is there anything in particular you would like to talk about?” Turner asked.  Joe shook his head.  “Then how about we begin with your earliest memory?”  Again, Joe shrugged.  “Care to tell me the first thing you remember as a child?”

Joe smiled.  “Mud,” he answered.  “Frank and I were playing outside after a summer shower and we started making mud pies,” he began to elaborate.  “We began throwing them at each other and then our Aunt Gertrude came outside and got in the line of fire.  She was dressed up for a date but we got her good.  She was furious,” he added, his smile becoming even bigger.

“That made you happy?” inquired the doctor, hiding his surprise.

“No,” denied Joe, shaking his head.  “But Dad came outside to see what all the yelling was about and broke out laughing.  Auntie got mad at him and pushed him into the mud with us but he didn’t get mad.  Instead, he grabbed a handful of mud and flung it at her.  He went quite for a minute and so did Frank and me.  I thought she was going to let him have it.”

“But she didn’t?”

“Oh, yes, she did,” Joe returned.  “But it was how she got back at him that was so funny.  She jumped in the mud with us and started throwing mud at him.  Then Dad and Auntie started tossing it at us.  We were all laughing so hard that we didn’t hear mom get back from the store until she started laughing.  Dad started to throw some at her but she told him he had better not because someone had to stay clean to run inside and get towels.  When we got out of the mud, mom hosed us all down and gave us towels before letting us inside the house.”

Dr. Turner made a small notation then looked back at Joe.  “What about your next memory?” he asked.  “Did it also involve your family?”

Joe’s smile faded away.  “At first,” he answered.  “It was my fourth birthday and mom and dad had taken us to the carnival.  I didn’t like the roller coaster so while Dad took Frank for a ride, Mom and I went into the funhouse.”

“Did something happen in the funhouse?” Dr. Turner asked after Joe had gone quiet.

“Yeah,” answered Joe, dully.  “I got separated from mom.  I tried to find her but before I did, someone found me.  He said he was with carnival security and would take me to my mom.”

“But he never?”

Joe shook his head.  “We went through some doors and out the back to where a car was waiting.  I realized something was wrong then and started to scream but he picked me up and put a hand over my mouth.  We got in the car with two other men and left.”

“How long were you with these men?”

Joe shrugged.  “I can’t remember,” confessed Joe.  “But I remember being really scared because one of the men told me if I didn’t stop crying I would never get to go home.”

“Did you stop?”

Joe nodded.  “They weren’t too mean to me except when I said I wanted to go home.  One of them even taught me how to pick locks just so I wouldn’t cry,” he added, having forgotten why he was there. 

“You remember how to pick locks?” Turner asked, frowning as he thought about Joe’s room at the foundation.

Joe nodded.  He was remembering, more vividly than he would have liked, his time as a prisoner.  “I thought I would learn how to do it and escape and capture them and then Dad would be proud of me.”

“Didn’t you think your Dad was proud of you anyway?” Turner inquired.

Joe shrugged.  “He loved me,” Joe answered.  “But I hadn’t done anything to make him proud of me.  Frank was in kindergarten and at night when Frank showed him something he had done in school Dad would puff up and smile.  And...” Joe broke off.

“And?” pushed Turner in a gentle tone.

“And one time when I heard Sam said he bet Dad was proud of Frank, Dad got all puffy again and said he had good reason to be,” Joe said.  “He’s never said that about me.”

Dr. Turner made another note on Joe’s file.  “Does it bother you that your Dad is more proud of Frank than of you?”

“Not anymore,” Joe answered.  “Dad should be proud of Frank.  He’s a borderline genius,” Joe added, pride of his brother coming through in his voice.  “And he’s got a photographic memory.  He’s been good at everything he’s ever tried to do.”

“And you aren’t jealous of him?” Dr. Turner inquired, writing down more notes.  “Not even a little bit?”

“No way!” Joe denied empathetically.  “He’s the greatest!”

“You care about your brother a great deal,” Turner observed.  “Any particular reason?”

“Because he’s the best brother a guy could have,” Joe answered honestly.  “He’s there if I need to talk.  He’s always looking out for me.  Sometimes, he even stops me from doing something mom and dad said I could do because he’s afraid I will get hurt.”

“Do you do many activities with your brother?”  Turner inquired.

“We used to do almost everything together,” Joe admitted, unaware Turner had latched onto the phrase ‘used to‘.  “We double-dated; went to the same events; took turns reading a bestseller out loud; studied; and solved mysteries.”

“And you don’t do these things together anymore?”

“Not as much as we used to,” Joe confessed, a small frown playing around his lips as his eyes dulled just a fraction.  “Frank used to tell me what was going on before anyone else but since last spring, he generally tells Callie first.  Or Phil." 

“Who are they?”

“Callie is his girlfriend,” Joe answered with a shrug.  “I can understand why he tells her.  I kind of think he’s serious about her.”

“And Phil?”  asked Turner who was still making notes.

“He’s Frank’s best friend,” Joe answered, his tone growing short without realizing it.

“And who is your best friend?”

“Frank,” Joe answered without thought.

“But Phil is Frank’s best friend?” Turner repeated for clarification.  Joe nodded.

Turner ended the session after a few more minutes and sat writing his conclusions after Joe had departed.  It was his opinion that Joe, feeling inferior to his older brother in their relationship with their father, looked upon Frank as a type of surrogate father.  It was also obvious to him that Joe was jealous of  Frank’s relationship with Phil because he felt shut out in the same way he felt shut out by his own father. 

“Conclusion?” murmured Turner thoughtfully before writing down his thoughts.  A very complex individual who is entirely too dependent. A dependency that is detrimental to the social skills needed to mature.

 

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boys Fan Fiction authors of the Hardy Detective Agency 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.