LITTLE BOY LOST
by
Phoenix
Chapter 17
The Chapters
“Frank, can you stay with your brother while your mother and I get things sorted out so we can take Joey home?” Fenton asked quietly, skimming a hand through the silky dark hair of his older son as he watched over the rest of his family in the privacy of Joe’s hospital room.
Laura sat on the edge of the bed with Joe neatly tucked into her side, his bowed head pressed against her. Her arms wrapped tightly around him, offering him both protection and support. The child had mostly calmed down but still kept himself firmly affixed to his mother, accepting only comfort from her. Fenton knew he shouldn’t feel bothered by that, but he was; his own rejection by Joe an open wound.
A look of panic flooded the blond boy’s face and he immediately glanced up at Laura, unbridled worry stuttering his words. “Y-you’re…l-leaving m-me?” His terror sucked the air out of the room.
“Oh no, sweetie,” she rushed to assure and Fenton’s heart ached at the lost look on his son’s face. He needed to get Joe out of this place. “We just want to take you home…” she smiled and gently caressed her little boy’s face, “you do want to come home, Joey, don’t you?”
The child didn’t correct her about his name.
Tears brimmed in the bright blue eyes. “But – but…” he stammered, “I can’t!”
“You can’t?” Fenton pretended not to notice the way his son stiffened at the sound of his voice. “What do you mean you can’t?”
The door opening behind them interrupted the child before he could answer and it took every bit of resolve the detective had not to shove the intruder out when he finally felt like he could talk to his son. The ‘intruder’ was Dr. Jared and he gave a sheepish smile, like he knew he had interrupted progress – and then immediately introduced the tall, skinny beanpole of a man standing behind him. “Mr. Hardy, Mrs. Hardy?” he acknowledged the children, “Boys… This is Dr. Scoffield and, if it’s okay with y’all, he’d like to talk to Jason a bit.”
“Joey,” Frank asserted suddenly, startling Fenton with the impertinence of his tone. “His name is Joey.”
“Frank,” Fenton’s own voice was low and held a note of warning. His older son was usually more respectful of adults. The dark haired boy glanced up and him and actually scowled. The man wondered what was up with that.
Joe looked at his brother with an unreadable look on his face.
“Joey?” Dr. Jared looked at Fenton and raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t been witness to Laura’s cathartic breakthrough with the child. The detective gave a dismissive shrug – it was his son’s real name after all. “Okay then. Well young Joseph – ”
“Joey.” Now Frank sounded pissed, and Fenton rested a hand on his son’s shoulder, a gentle reminder to behave himself.
“I’m sorry,” the young doctor actually looked amused. “Joey it is. So, Joey,” he raised an eyebrow and waited for Frank’s nod of approval before continuing, “is it okay if this nice man talks to you a bit while your Mom and Dad take care of some paperwork? They’ll just be across the hall.”
The blond boy looked up at his mother and Laura gave him a gentle squeeze, “It’ll be okay, sweetie. I promise.”
“We’ll be just outside the door,” Fenton added. Joe glanced at him briefly and the man shivered under the coldness of the look. It was almost as if Joey hated him…
“I’ll stay,” Frank slipped out from his father’s grasp and went to stand by his brother. He jutted his chin out in a strangely defiant pose. “I ain’t leaving!”
Fenton saw the subtle curl of Joe’s fingers around the tiny toy car he still clutched in his hand as he listened to his brother speak, and then slowly the tension-filled body seemed to relax just a bit and for the first time since his reunion with his mother, the blond boy actually let her go. He straightened up a bit and nodded slightly. “’Kay,” he mumbled and Fenton knew that was about as good as they’d ever get.
“All right then,” Dr. Jared was instantly ushering the elder Hardy’s from the room, a bright smile assuring Fenton and Laura that it would be fine. “Let’s get those discharge papers ready!”
…
“So what do you want to talk to him about?” Frank immediately demanded as soon as his parents were out of earshot. He wasn’t keen on the idea of someone maybe mixing up Joe’s head any worse than it seemed to be already mixed up.
The doctor appeared unsurprised by Frank’s belligerence. “About you, actually. You and your parents…is that okay with you?”
“Me?” the little boy canted his head and then challenged. “What’d I do?” Beside him he felt the weight of his brother’s gaze and it solidified his determination to keep himself between Joe and this man. He wasn’t going to let anyone else try to take his sibling away.
“Nothing,” the doctor crossed his legs – boy were they ever long – and then leaned back in the seat, making himself more comfortable. He reminded Frank of a scarecrow. “I’m just more worried that your little brother,” the man gave Joe an acknowledging nod, “might be a bit confused about things right now and I’m hoping maybe I can help get him sorted out—” The doctor paused and then added, “With your help of course.”
Frank pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. It sounded okay. Twisting slightly he appraised his younger brother. Well, it couldn’t hurt, he supposed. Turning back to the doctor he gave a dismissive shrug and then sat down next to his brother, giving Joe an odd look when the kid moved away slightly.
The doctor immediately addressed Joe. His voice was oddly compelling. “I bet you’re kinda confused about all this, huh?”
The dark haired boy opened his mouth to protest – what kinda way was that to start a talk? – but then shut it when the man held up a hand against his protest. “And it’s probably pretty scary right now too…” Frank scowled, unsure how this could help his brother. “But I just want you to know that no matter what, Joey, it’s okay. You’re safe and no one is going to let anything happen to you. No one.”
Joe’s teeth worried his bottom lip for a moment as he sucked in a breath. Frank expected the younger boy to say something but then the kid gave a slight shake of his head, seeming to change [to] his mind, and started to fiddle with the edge of the bed sheet.
Frank glanced at the doctor and noticed the man’s eyes were almost green as they watched the younger Hardy intently. And then Dr. Scoffield pursed his lips. “Hmmm…I get the feeling that there’s something on your mind, young one. Something big.” He rubbed his chin. “Well, did you know the best way to shrink down problems is to share them?” Joe still refused to say anything. The doctor gave Frank a serious look and then grinned. “Hey, is that a ’67 Impala?”
Both boys looked down at the toy Joe was holding.
“Sweet!” the man continued, startling Frank with his enthusiasm. “That is one awesome car – can I see it?” He held out his hand.
Joe hesitated for a moment and then held out the toy.
“My dad used to own a car like this.” He held the tiny Impala in his hand with exaggerated reverence, “I remember him taking us for long rides in the country every Sunday afternoon, after church. Boy that car was butch.”
“Butch?” Frank crinkled up his nose and looked at his brother. Joe shrugged his shoulders, obviously having no more clue about the word than the older boy did.
“Yeah. You know – happening. Cool?” Those words sounded out of place coming from the mouth of the doctor. “The car had a V8 engine – when my dad gave it the gas, it blew the doors off anything within fifty feet!”
Joe laughed. Actually laughed and Frank found himself smiling as the younger boy suddenly doubled over, holding his stomach, “V8? Your car drank juice?”
“Juice?” the man paused and then started to chuckle, “not V8 juice, silly, a V8 engine – there’s a pretty big difference… although with the way that guzzler chewed gas, I bet my old man wished it ran on juice!”
“I don’t like V8 juice,” Joe suddenly confided as he wrinkled up his nose. “It looks like blood.”
“Since when?” Frank frowned. “You like everything.”
“I do not!” the younger boy protested, his piercing gaze firmly fixed on his brother. “I hate lots of stuff!”
“Like what?” Frank challenged, not really believing Joe. After all, he knew everything about his brother.
“Like V8 juice! And butter—”
“It’s me that don’t like butter,” the older boy butted in, not willing to accept that his brother might have changed. “You love butter! You even put butter on waffles – and that is just gross!”
“Boys—” the good doctor tried to interject –
“I do NOT!”
And was ignored.
“Do TOO!”
“I. Do. NOOOOOT!” Joe slid off the bed, put his hands on his hips and glared at Frank. Frank, not to be outdone, mirrored the posture, pleased to see that he still had some size advantage over his brother.
“TOOOO!”
“BOYS!”
The doctor’s shout startled both children. Frank immediately turned to the ‘threat’ as Joe moved closer to his brother –
“Boys,” the man repeated, much more calmly, but before he could say anything else the door burst open and Fenton was in the room.
“What’s going on?” he demanded, his eyes quickly taking in the scene. “Frank? Joey?”
“We’re okay, Dad,” Frank answered, not really eager to spill any details. Arguing with your little brother less than ten minutes after you’d been left alone with him probably wouldn’t go over too well…
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Scoffield explained, “our conversation just got a bit loud, I’m afraid. Nothing to be worried about…. Finish up the paperwork.” He made shooing motions with his hands. “Go. Go!”
Fenton seemed hesitant but then gave a conceding nod and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him.
“Why’d you lie?” Joe asked after his father had gone.
“Lie?” The man asked before Frank could. “What do you mean? What lie?”
“You didn’t tell him we were arguing,” the blond boy shrugged matter-of-factly. “That’s lying. Would he get mad?”
“Lying would have been if I said nothing happened, which isn’t what I said. I said our conversation just got a bit loud – isn’t that what happened?” Frank’s gaze shifted between the man and his brother.
Joe seemed to consider that for a moment and then sighed. “I don’t know…” He rubbed his head. “Sometimes it’s hard to keep it figured out.”
“Keep what figured out?” Dr. Scoffield pressed.
“Everything,” the little boy admitted. “I just get so confused…”
“Confused? What are you getting confused about, Joey?” the doctor coaxed gently; when the child didn’t answer, he crouched down to look the child in the face. “Who’s confusing you?”
“Daddy,” Joe whispered as he lowered his eyes and refused to look at Frank or the doctor.
“Dad?” Frank was stunned. That didn’t make sense, why would Dad be confusing Joey?
“Not our Daddy,” blue eyes blinked back brightness. “My Daddy.”
Frank opened his mouth to protest but the doctor put a hand on his shoulder, silencing him. “That’s good, Joey, very good…. Let’s talk about your Daddy…”
“My Daddy?” Joe wrapped his arms around his thin body and hugged tight. “My Daddy scares me.”
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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.