Dad had asked us to help him by staking out a warehouse down on the waterfront. He and Sam are working a big case and we couldn’t believe it when they asked us to help.

My Dad is a private investigator, a pretty successful one at that, and both Joe and I are very keen to help out when we can. We’ve even had good success on the cases we’ve handled solo, so a simple stake-out is not beyond our forte.

An hour into the stake-out I was ready to kill him.  Not the guy…my brother.

Joe had been particularly antsy today and was setting his own new personal best for fidgeting.  Man, if Ms. Laurel could have seen him she’d have put a staple in his butt so fast, he wouldn’t know if he was board or punched.

Ms. Laurel is my brother’s Biology teacher and she hates restless bottoms. Needless to say we’ve had some fun at my darling brother’s expense over that. We’ve lovingly called it ‘the war between Laurel and Hardy.’

Joe doesn’t always find it so amusing.

Anyway, in hindsight I suppose I should have asked him what was up, and then things might have gone a little differently today, but in all honesty I was a bit distracted myself – a fidgeting Joe plus a distracted Frank, a combination waiting for trouble doth make.

Why was I distracted?

Did I just hear Joe? I’d better go check on him; it’s been an hour….

* * *

He’s still asleep.

Joe is sleeping in my bed so I’ve left the door open between our rooms. That way I can hear him if he wakes up…or has a nightmare. Although I’m not too concerned about nightmares yet because the sedative Dr. Bates gave him knocked him right out.

But I’m still not taking any chances and I keep the doors open so I can hear him.

Clean my closet….

An odd request even from my brother.

But I figure it’s not too much to ask, considering what I was willing to do.

I almost killed a man tonight.

* * *

My Dad and Sam are still at the scene.  I found it very hard looking them in the face when they arrived just after the police and ambulance.  It really was my fault.

I left him. 

Damn it.

If I hadn’t been so distracted, it never would have happened….

Which pile am I supposed to put this in?  And why the hell is my brother keeping it anyway??  Who in their right mind keeps coasters??

Fine….I’ll start a third pile.

Why was I distracted at the stake-out?

A lot of different things I guess; but mostly school…and Callie.

Amazingly enough, my younger brother was not on my distraction list today…that’s a shocker. He usually is the distraction!

School?  Yeah. I have two assignments due on Monday and I still hadn’t figured out a good subject for the English one.  Write about the person who has had the most impact on your life and in shaping who you are?

Beautiful topic isn’t it?

Oh sure, it sounds easy enough when you sit down to start. But after a couple of hours staring at a blank computer screen, and almost wearing out the backspace button, you realize that your English teacher is a mad genius, and this is the hardest mystery you’ve ever had to solve!

Where to start? 

Well obviously there’s my Dad. He’s the prominent male role model in my life and has taught me to be methodical, thorough and that diligence is an asset.  Of course all the ‘bug up my butt’ had to say about that was, “Pokiness is a good thing? Cool.”

Kill them all and let God sort them out….Joe’s philosophy of crime fighting - right in with both feet! Me? I make sure we’re wearing shoes first...and socks…and…okay I think you get the idea.

Dad’s not been around as much as I would like, but it’s okay. We understand each other pretty well.

Apparently we are more alike than in just appearance. Dad is an inch taller then me but I think I can take him – I’m only 18, I might have another good inch or two in me yet.

My Mom. She has taught me about unselfish sacrifice, and unconditional love. I’m not 100% sure but I think I might get my patience from mom… anyone who can crochet must be endowed with loads of it!  Yes, she can get upset, as mothers do, and I have felt the brunt of a good tongue-lashing on occasion – but in all honesty I deserved it. 

Another one of Joe’s wild schemes that I should have just said “no” to but somehow let those baby blues talk me into it.  I should have known better. Don’t ask – use your imagination and you’ll know exactly how it turned out!

Poor Mom – she was right. I should have known better.  In fact I did…but then along came tornado Joe…and off-course I went!  Man…no one can get to me like that kid….

But when it matters, my mom is steadfast and reliable to do what needs to be done; probably cultivated by years of being Joe’s mother as well. You never know exactly what that kid was/is going to get into at any one time….

*Flashback*

Nine-year-old Joe with a fishhook stuck in the back of his head….Don’t ask.

Twelve-year-old Joe sliced open his palm on a glass that broke while he was drying it…..Eight stitches….

Seventeen-year-old Joe with a nail through his shoulder…I still feel horrible about that one….It might have been an accident but still…he’s my little brother….

*End of flashback*

Shuddering, I decide that maybe I need to check on him again…just in case.

* * *

Still sleeping. He feels a bit warm though; hope he’s not getting an infection.

Does this kid never throw anything out? 

Ouch!

What was that?  Sticking my finger in my mouth to suck the drop of blood from the little pin prick on my pinky, I search for the culprit, carefully.

Oh. I had almost forgotten about this. It must have fallen out of the little hand painted black box.

Joe’s Death Box.

* * *

My Aunt Gertrude. My father’s older sister lives with us from time to time. The downstairs guest room is coined “Gert’s room,” as she used to spend a lot of time living here. Well not so much anymore.  Now she is busy working and is on the go a lot. She’s an environmentalist and works with a couple of protection agencies; a very busy woman.

Auntie G isn’t one of Joe’s favorite people, but we get along just fine.  I don’t know what it is about each other, but they are kind of like chalk and cheese. Anyway, Auntie has taught me be to be proud of who I am - Frank Hardy - and to keep a stiff upper lip in times of adversity. 

Yeah, that was Joe’s reaction as well.…

He insists that the only thing Aunt Gertrude ever taught him was to ball up wool.  I tried to tell him that he could use that as a lesson in patience but that just got me a look.

My coach.   Until this year, when I decided to step down from the football team and focus more on my final year of high school academics, the coach taught me about playing on a team; playing fair, and playing your best – regardless of the outcome.

He made me work hard and never accepted anything but my best.

Joe still busts his butt for the coach….And I’m quite proud of him for that.

And my sensei - Mr. Lee.  I have been studying karate since I was knee-high to a grasshopper – a little Kung Fu wit…and people think I don’t have a sense of humor – and I have a great respect for him.  He has taught me true courage does not come from great deeds but must be recognized by the individual first.

He has also trained me to focus beyond the obstacles and he’s shown me how to channel my emotions to their best outcome – hmmm….Wonder what he’d think about what happened tonight?

Oh yeah, I was channeling… just not to anywhere productive….

So I was busy trying to figure out who I wanted to write about.

Distracted while Joe fidgeted – oh yeah, a recipe for disaster if ever there was one.

And Callie.

That was more than a distraction.

Damn it, I just should have said “No.”