“Step aside!” commanded the pretty young nurse with the cherry-red cheeks. “Let me get to the patient.”  

“I’m handling this,” pointed out the redhead who was pushing the stretcher. Her progress into the emergency room was hampered when three other young women, who although very different in appearance were obviously sisters, blocked her way.  

“Is this the head injury case?” asked the impulsive brown-haired tomboy, peering at the young man being wheeled past.  

“Poor thing, he looks so young,” commented the blonde, who had a special interest in caring for children. Her youngest sister, nervous from being surrounded by all these veteran professionals, simply stayed in the background, observing.  

“Now just a minute!” the first nurse, whose nametag showed that her name suited her complexion perfectly, exclaimed. “I’ve worked my way up from a student nurse, to chief nurse, even night supervisor. I have much more experience than any of you and what I say goes. Follow me, Nurse Barton,” she ordered the redhead, “and you other three nurses may go back to your regular duties.”  

The staff had just carried the young, blond patient into the examination room when the hospital doors slid open and a tall, brown-haired, brown-eyed young man of about 18 ran through. “Where’d they take my brother?” he questioned frantically. He was followed by his somewhat chubby chum and a pretty girl, who were both trying to calm him down.  

“Honestly, Frank,” declared the girl, “you’re acting like this doesn’t happen at least once a week. You should realize by now that Joe has a hard head, and he can withstand multiple concussions without even slowing down for a day! Why, he’s lived through head injuries that would kill a normal person.”  

“I know, Callie,” explained the 6’1” lad, “but I still feel that it’s my duty to worry every time. He’s my younger brother, after all.”  

“At least one good thing comes of these frequent hospital visits,” Frank’s portly pal pointed out. “They always have really good food in the staff cafeteria!”  

“Oh, Chet!” his dark-haired sister exclaimed, as she joined the group after finding a parking space. “If only you would concentrate more on your wacky inventions, instead of constantly stuffing your face, you could have been just as famous as Frank and Joe!”  

The impending sibling squabble was cut short by the arrival of an attractive strawberry blonde, followed by an athletic brunette and her curvy blonde cousin. The young woman instantly embraced Frank, and asked about his brother, much to the annoyance of his girlfriend.  

“Ahem…” Callie cleared her throat. “AHEM! Have we met?”  

“Oh, hi,” responded the girl with reddish shoulder-length hair. “I’m Nancy Drew, and these are my friends George and Bess.  

What could have possibly been an interesting stare-off was unfortunately interrupted by yet another arrival in the hospital waiting room. “Oh no,” muttered Frank, whose life seemed to be getting more complicated by the minute. “Reporters!”   

“Mr. Hardy!” shouted an eager young man in an argyle sweater vest. “Ken Holt, of the Advance. Can you tell us how your brother is faring?”  

“Mr. Hardy!” piped up feminine voice. “Beverley Gray, reporter! Could you please tell our readers what you and your brother were doing at the old, abandoned warehouse?”  

While the eldest Hardy progeny was replying, a continuous procession of people moved through the ER.  

“Did you notice how happy that family seemed?” commented Iola to her brother. “Not the one with two sets of boy-girl twins, the other one.”  

“Yeah!” replied Chet, who had just returned from the cafeteria. “Guess who I met in the check out line. Three teenaged investigators! The two associates reminded me somewhat of Frank and Joe. The leader reminded me a lot of someone else I know, but I just can’t put my finger on it…”  

Having finished his interview, Frank was about to return to his seat when he noticed the glares from both Nancy and Callie.  

Turning, he took a seat next to a dark-haired girl of about his age. She gave him a slight smile, but he could tell that she was worried about something. Trying to distract both of them from their thoughts, he asked, “Waiting for someone?”  

“My sister, Jean,” replied the mature and responsible-seeming teen. Sighing, she continued. “She’s so impetuous! Always rushing into danger!”  

“Never listening to your warnings?” suggested Frank, with a wry smile. “All action without enough thought?”  

“Yes, yes!” responded the girl, eagerly. “It must be some sort of blonde gene…”  

The two brunettes were still comparing younger sibling stories when a tall, handsome doctor strode into the room, calling Frank’s name. The older Hardy brother bounded to his feet and ran over to get the news.  

“Mr. Hardy, I’m Dr. Kildere. Your brother is wide-awake and asking for you. I’m rather amazed by the stunning recovery he had, however the nurses tell me it’s not unusual. If you step through those doors, you can see him.” Having passed along the good news, he moved on to tell Frank’s new friend of her sister’s similar results.  

Joe was fully ready to check out within an hour. As they were leaving the hospital, the admittance doors swung open and two paramedics wheeled in a stretcher bearing a young man covered in a layer of soot.  

“Jeepers!” exclaimed Chet. “What happened to him?”  

“Not sure,” replied a medic, “but he keeps mumbling something about an accident with an electromagnetic centrifugal spectrograph, whatever that is…”  

And in the corner, behind a potted palm, an orderly with the name “E. Stratemeyer” on his tag pulled a notebook out of his pocket and jotted something down.

 

~The End~

 

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.