Time:  Midnight Christmas Eve

Joe’s eyes flew open and he stared deeply into the dark brown ones watching him with an ethereal intensity. Blinking rapidly, he sat up – she moved back from the side of the bed where she had been leaning – and continued to stare.

It couldn’t be!

“No,” he whispered, his voice quivering as he struggled to stay sitting – his body suddenly akin to jelly.

“Yes,” she spoke softly and smiled at him, reaching out with warm fingers to brush his cheek again. Her smile faltered when he jolted at the touch.

It couldn’t be, but it was….Raven black hair, big doe eyes, the pixie-faced beauty sent a chill coursing down Joe’s spine. Iola Morton was standing in his bedroom!

“Am – am I dreaming?” he stammered, his blue eyes searching her face, wide in disbelief. He didn’t dare touch her for fear she would simply fade away.

“No, beloved,” she whispered, her voice exactly as he remembered, “You are not dreaming…”

“Am I d-dead?” his voice tumbled over the word, his face – already pale – almost alabaster in the dim bedroom lighting. She seemed to glow.

“No, silly,” she laughed – a musical note that brought him goose bumps and a sudden coldness in the pit of his stomach. “You are not dead.”

“Are you?” the words were more a whisper than anything else and the girl sobered immediately; all trace of the laughter – the smile – replaced by a melancholy that seemed to dim her very essence.

“I am.”  Her voice was soft, regretful.

Joe closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “I wished you here,” he said slowly. He opened his eyes and sucked in a shuddering breath, “You are a dream.”

“No, I’m not,” the girl protested as she held out her hand, “Touch me. Feel me…”  Dark brown eyes reached into his soul and held it in their gaze.  “believe in me…”

Slowly, hesitantly, Joe reached out towards her. She looked so real….He could see her clear, smooth skin, and remembered how soft and warm it felt. He paused, afraid that it would not be warmth he felt now.

“Trust me,” she whispered, understanding his hesitation.

He did. He touched her – and then passed out.

 

The angel knelt beside her beloved and gently stroked the hair back from his face. “I am sorry,” she whispered, “but we do not have time for this. I have but a moment—”  Leaning over him, she brushed her lips gently against his, closing her eyes in longing as she did so. Things were as they were. But that did not make them fair.

She knew the alternative and had seen it in the instant of her death; her soul choosing to flee her body, silencing the scream that would have killed him. If Joe had heard her voice, even Frank would not have been able to stop him. And they would have both died. So for him, the girl had gone quietly….

“Awaken,” she implored, her voice a soft command, and slowly his eyelids did flutter and then open, gazing at her through the most vibrant blue eyes.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered, confusion clouding his features even as he reached out with trembling fingers to touch her face. The angel smiled gently at him.

“It is hard to explain. But—”  She paused and then simply said, “I’ve come back for you.”

“For me?” Joe repeated, stunned. His mind was racing but not nearly as much as his heart. He wanted to grab her, hold her and never let her go, but he was afraid. It just hurt so much…and he was afraid that this time the pain would swallow him up.

“Yes,” she said as she eased herself down on the bed beside him, never once breaking eye contact, “for you.”

She smelled like vanilla – and in that one instant, the spell was broken and Joe grabbed Iola in a tight hug, burying his face into her dark mane of hair as she held him just as tightly.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered as he clung to her, not even trying to keep the pain of losing her, from her.  “I’m so sorry it hurts you so much…”

“It’s…m-my fault,” he somehow managed to say, the words choked and difficult but at the same time releasing something inside him – maybe some of the guilt.  “Oh Iola – I am so sorry…”

“Ssshhh,” she whispered, trying to console him, but he continued on, not hearing her gentle words.

“It should…have – have been m-me!”

“NO!” This time the word was spoken sharply and the distraught boy had no choice but to hear it.

Iola pulled away from him and grasped Joe’s face firmly in her hands, forcing him to pay attention to her. “What happened is not your fault in any way! It was not. You never put that horrid thing there – please, Joe…don’t take on a guilt that doesn’t belong to you!  And never…NEVER,” she emphasized, her eyes almost black with conviction, “say it should have been you.” Her voice softened; she smiled and said simply, “I love you, Joe. I have since the first day I saw you. It’s something I can’t explain…” she shrugged, “but I knew if I had to, I would die for you – in a heartbeat – and that is exactly what I did.”

“Iola…” her name came stricken from his lips, and she gently placed her finger on them, silencing him.

“Now hush, beloved, for I don’t have much time.” Staring deeply into his beautiful eyes, the angel simply said, “Come with me…”

Joe blinked.  “Where?”

Her answer stunned him.

“To eternity.”

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.