LITTLE BOY LOST
by
Phoenix
Chapter 13
The Chapters
Eight-year-old ‘Jason’ Turner sat at the kitchen table of a nice little bungalow and stared down at the school field trip notice he’d carefully laid out on the table. His class was going to the New York Zoo but they needed to return their signed permission slips first. Therein lay the problem…
“Mommy?” he started hesitantly at the brown haired woman standing with her back to him as she peeled some potatoes, “My class is—” he paused, his blue eyes darting towards the hallway when he heard the front door open.
His ‘mother’ glanced over her shoulder at him. “What is it baby?”
“Uh…nothing…” the child mumbled as he folded up the notice and slipped it into his jeans pocket. He’d stood a chance of his mother letting him go, but his ‘father’? That wasn’t going to happen. The man kept a very tight rein on Jason and seldom let him go out to play with his friends, let alone allow him to go on a fieldtrip. Sometimes it amazed the child that his father let him go to school.
The woman gave him a sympathetic smile that turned into a bright one when she saw the man come into the kitchen. “How was work?” she asked, wrapping him up in a tight hug that made the child roll his eyes and turn away. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” the man murmured as he buried his face into the woman’s neck. Jason quietly got up to leave.
“Jason,” his father’s voice stopped him in the doorway; its tone held a familiar note of warning. “Stay in the house.”
The child nodded solemnly and then headed towards his room. He frowned as he sat down on the edge of his small, neatly made bed, and looked around his room.
Stay in the house? As if he needed reminding…
Sighing, he turned to the small bookshelf and looked for something to read. It was the best way to pass time that he knew of. It was easier to lose himself in a make-believe story than to spend much time thinking about anything else. Anything else hurt…
The sound of someone at the front door roused Jason and he sat up; the book he’d been reading before he’d fallen asleep fell to the floor with a thud. He heard voices. Loud, angry voices and his heart started to pound painfully in his chest.
Who was there?
Someone cursed. Crass and infuriated –
Daddy?
The child slid from the bed and stood up. His slender body trembled as he wrapped his arms firmly around himself. Daddy was mad. Really mad.
Whoever was at their house needed to go away. Now!
Suddenly the bedroom door burst open and his mother hurried in. “Jason!” she shrieked but before she could reach him, another man, and then another, rushed in and grabbed her. They pulled her away as she fought them, kicking and screaming. “My baby! My baby! You can’t have my baby! JASON!!!!”
It took a moment for the child to register the blue of the uniforms, the clean shaven faces of the men…and then the real panic set in.
“No!” Jason yelled as he hurled himself towards his mother. “Mommy! Mommy!!” One of the police officers reached for him but the child deftly slipped past him.
“Stop that kid!” the man yelled and Jason suddenly found himself surrounded by uniformed strangers, each grabbing at him as the woman was hustled down the hall and out the front door.
Terrified, the child tried to back away. He shook his head and tried to keep from crying but he was scared. His father had warned him about this. About what would happen if something like this happened –
…If anyone ever comes to take you away from me and your Mommy, I will kill them. Do you hear me, Jason? Do you understand…?
“NO!” he shrieked again, kicking madly as a strong hand wrapped around his forearm. The man was saying something but the child was too upset to hear him. He thrashed wildly and almost got loose but the grip tightened. In sheer desperation, Jason sank his teeth into the hand and then lurched away as its owner cursed and let him go.
“Jesus,” someone growled.
Jason backed away from the men and pressed himself into a corner. There was nowhere he could go – the police were everywhere.
Scared, wet eyes darted from one stranger to another. His breathing was quick and panicked –
He had to get away. He had to find his Mommy and Daddy. He had to! He just had to!
And then one stranger stepped away from the others and slowly crouched down to eye level with the little boy. He didn’t make any moves to come closer or to grab Jason as the child watched him carefully.
“Hey, Jason, is it?” the man spoke, his voice oddly gentle. He waited until Jason gave a slight nod. “I bet you’re pretty confused right now, huh?” He glanced around at the other men. “It’s probably pretty scary too, huh? I know I’d be scared if I was a little kid like you.” Again he waited for Jason to acknowledge him. “But my name is Officer Jensen and I’m here to try and help you. Will you let me help you?”
The man had kind eyes. Dark brown. They kinda reminded Jason of someone…. A hot tear streaked down the little boy’s face.
“Hey. Hey,” the man chided gently as he slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He held it out to the child. “None of that…No one here’s going to hurt you. I promise you that.”
Jason hesitated before cautiously taking the offered hankie. “I want my Mommy,” he whispered. His voice quivered.
The man glanced behind him and then looked back at Jason, giving the boy a sad smile. “I know you do—”
A commotion from outside interrupted and Officer Jensen stood up abruptly and spun around, placing himself between Jason and the front door as a tall dark-haired man burst into the house.
“Mr. Hardy—” the cop started but the newcomer ignored him, his dark brown eyes locked on the child standing behind him.
“Oh my God,” all the color drained from the man’s face, “…Joe?”
Joe?
“No,” Jason shook his head vehemently, once again pressing his body into the corner. “No!” He dropped the handkerchief.
“Joey?”
The haunted whisper terrified the child. “N-no,” he stammered, “m-my name is J-Jason. Jason Turner.”
Officer Jensen put a restraining hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Fenton,” Jason flinched at the sound of the name. “Please, wait outside…let us handle this.”
Fenton shook the officer off, his eyes never once leaving the child’s face as he sank down to one knee. “Joey?” he persisted. “Son?”
Jason’s eyes watered and he swallowed hard. “J-Jason…my name is…is Jason.”
“No,” Fenton insisted, gently. “It’s not. Your name is Joseph Hardy…and you’re my son.”
…Your name is Jason Turner. Do you hear me? Jason. You will not answer to anything else, if you do, I will kill you. Do you understand me…? Do you, Jason…?
“NO!” an outburst of anger overrode his fear and Jason yelled at the man. “My. Name. Is. JASON!!!”
Fenton shook his head. “No,” he denied, “it’s not.”
Totally overwhelmed, Jason threw himself at the man, hitting him with his fists as he continued to yell. “My name is Jason! My name is Jason…!”
Didn’t this man understand? His name had to be Jason… it had to be!
…
Fenton Hardy’s eyes burned as he tried to hold the thrashing child. He absorbed the flying fists of the tantrum and tried to be heard over the almost psychotic mantra of ‘my name is Jason’. “It’s okay. It’s okay,” he kept repeating, waiting for the child to wear himself out, still unable to believe this was Joe. That his missing son had been found. But there was no time for disbelief as the traumatized child went into a complete meltdown.
Behind him, he heard someone asking for a paramedic and then barely managed to contain the flailing limbs for the sedation. He hated to have it done but Joe was too upset –
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. The detective wasn’t supposed to be holding his newly found child – the little boy he’d lost – waiting for the drugs to kick in…
“Mr. Hardy?” Fenton scooped the now unconscious little boy into his arms and carefully stood. Heaven help this man if he was going to try to come between the detective and his son, again….He turned to face Officer Jensen, unashamed of the wetness on his face. “The ambulance is waiting outside.”
Fenton nodded slowly and then followed the officer out of the house. It was best. Joe needed to be checked out. Just to be sure…
He swallowed hard as he thought about how close they had come to not finding the child. It had been a fluke. A damn fluke. That was how Joe was found. A neighbor had called in a wrong address to a TIPS line. The police staking out the house looking for a drug dealer had found the Hardys’ missing son instead – thank God.
But something told Fenton as he cradled his precious child in his arms and stepped into the back of the waiting vehicle that finding Joe might have been the easiest part.
Now that they had him, they’d have to work to get him back….
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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.