THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT

by

RM

THE STORY

THE CHAPTERS

INTRO

THE STORY

A thick blanket of snow had settled in the Town of Bayport making it a picture perfect Christmas. As he made his way downstairs with his small travel suitcase, he felt a sense of guilt and sadness at having to leave.

He had been called an hour earlier regarding a case that needed his immediate attention. He had been hesitant at first, but when he heard the details, he knew he needed to go. But that didn’t ease his mind any. He felt bad because he had promised his family they would enjoy the holidays together and he was leaving.

“What’s with the suitcase?” sixteen-year-old Joe Hardy asked as he stepped out of the living room.

Fenton Hardy looked at his blond-haired son and felt a stab of regret. He let out a breath. “I’ve got to go into city because of a case. I should only be gone a couple days.”

“But it’s Christmas Eve,” Joe said. “Can’t it wait?”

“I’m sorry, son. It can’t.” He set his suitcase on the floor and then put a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “Joe, this case is important and I need to go.”

“Aren’t we important too?” Joe asked, anger filling his young face.

“You, your brother and your mother are very important to me, but this is my job and I have to go.”

Joe shrugged off his father’s hand. “If we are important to you, then you wouldn’t be going on Christmas Eve.”

“Joe, I don’t have a choice. I have to go.”

“You always have a choice,” Joe muttered as he pushed past his father and headed upstairs.

A moment later the door to the room was slammed shut. Fenton let out a breath and wished his son had taken the news better. He hated the thought of leaving on Christmas Eve, but this case was one he had been working on diligently and wanted to see it end. He knew once it was all wrapped up, he could spend some quality time with his family.

Fenton turned to head into the kitchen to see his wife, but stopped when he saw his eldest son, Frank, standing there. He couldn’t read Frank’s face.

“Son, you do know I have to go, right?” Fenton asked.

“Yeah,” the seventeen-year-old said. “If you want, I’ll take your suitcase out to the car.”

“I’d appreciate it,” Fenton said. “I just need to let your mother know.”

“I’ll take it out then.”

Fenton watched as his son walked past him, grabbed the suitcase and headed outside. Fenton turned and headed into the kitchen where his wife was finishing up the baking. The boys had their friends coming over for a small get-together that afternoon before they all headed out caroling.

Laura Hardy looked at him as he entered the kitchen. She had a single streak of flour on her cheek. He figured she had brushed a strand of her blond hair away from her face and then got the flour there.

He kissed her cheek and then brushed the flour from it. He looked her in the eye.

“Laura, I need to go. I’ve been called about the case that needs my immediate attention.”

“But what about Christmas?” The boys were looking forward to you being home this year. It’s bee so long since you’ve actually spent Christmas Eve and Day with us.”

“Laura, you know I wouldn’t go if it wasn’t absolutely necessary,” Fenton said. “And I’ve already spoken to the boys.”

“And?” Laura prompted.

“Frank understands.”

“Does he?” Laura asked.

“He does,” Fenton said.

“And Joe?”

“He’s disappointed. But I will be back in a few days and we can celebrate.” He leaned in and gave her a kiss on the lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Laura said. “Be careful.”

“I will be.”

Fenton turned and left the kitchen. He headed down the hall and out the front door. Frank was making his way back to the house.

“Keep an eye on your mother and brother,” Fenton said.

“I will,” Frank said.

“Thank you. I’ll see you in a few days.” Fenton proceeded to the car, got in and headed into the city.

* * * * *

It was close to midnight and Fenton was staking out a warehouse in one of the business districts in the city. The case dealt with robbers who were stealing products and equipment from the warehouses without setting off the alarms. He had spent several weeks doing background checks on the employees trying to figure out who was involved. All the checks had come back clean and he had felt as if he had driven into a brick wall. From there, he had checked maintenance people who visited the warehouse as well as the drivers who delivered the products and the ones who picked them up for distribution. Those checks had also come up empty.

But he had received an anonymous tip that there would be another hit on Christmas Eve. Now, he was hiding in the shadows, waiting for the moment when he could identify the people involved and wrap this case up.

The minutes seemed to drag by and he began to feel cramped. Suddenly he heard footsteps. He peered out from his hiding spot and saw three men enter the warehouse. They were sticking to the shadows so he couldn’t see their faces.

They moved over to the merchandise and quickly, but quietly, went through the pallets lining the floor until they found what they were looking for. They never spoke as they worked and Fenton knew he was going to have a hard time distinguishing them from someone on the street.

Feeling the need to get their attention, he silently slipped from his hiding place and approached the three individuals. His footsteps were silent as he made his way along the warehouse floor.

He was about ten feet from them when one person turned around suddenly. “Hey.”

“Stay put,” Fenton said.

But they didn’t. Before he could react, the three charged at him. He tried to fight then off, but was unsuccessful. His hands were quickly pulled behind his back and secured with packaging tape. Another piece of tape was placed over his mouth.

He felt a searing pain at the back of his head and collapsed to the warehouse floor, unconscious.

* * * * *

“Fenton. Wake up, Fenton.”

The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. He struggled to open his eyes and finally succeeded. It took a moment to focus and he stared in surprise at the face peering down at him.

“It can’t be you,” Fenton whispered.

“It is me.”

“Richard, it can’t be. You’ve been dead for almost ten years.”

“I know,” Richard said. “Come on. We’ve got places to go and time is short.”

Fenton sat up and realized he was no longer tied up. He got to his feet and looked at his old partner.

“Richard, I don’t understand.”

“You will. Come. I’ve got a lot to show you.”

“Where are we going?” Fenton asked.

“I am the ghost of Christmas Past. I’m here to take you back to moments in the past.”

“Richard, I remember the Christmases of the past. I don’t think this is necessary.”

“It is.”

Fenton fell in step behind his old partner. It felt weird to see him standing there. He remembered the day he got the call that Richard had been killed while on duty. He had been devastated. Richard was a good cop and had been at the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Here,” Richard said, stopping by a window. “Look.”

Fenton moved to the window and peered inside. He saw a man and woman seated on a couch with a small Christmas tree in the corner. There was Christmas music playing softly.

As the man turned on the seat, he realized the couple was his parents.

“I love you so much, Amelia,” his father said.

“I love you as well, James. I am so excited that this is our first Christmas as husband and wife.”

“It’s just the first of many,” James said cupping her face in his hand. “We have our whole lives ahead of us.”

“We sure do.” Amelia leaned in and gave James a kiss. “Actually, I have a gift for you right now.”

“We’re going to exchange gifts in the morning.”

“We are, but this is something that can’t wait.”

“Well, what is it?”

Amelia took James’ hand in her own and said, “In seven months, you will be a father.”

“What?” James asked.

Amelia nodded her head. “It’s true. I found out the other day. I waited because I wanted to surprise you tonight.”

“It’s a wonderful surprise,” James said pulling Amelia into his arms.

“That was my sister Gertrude they were talking about. And she was born exactly seven months later.”

The image in front of them darkened and then another one appeared. Inside a small two-story house was a woman and two small children putting decorations on a tree. The children appeared to be a five-year-old girl and a three-year-old boy.

“That’s me and Gertrude,” Fenton said, watching himself play with the ornaments before putting them on the tree.

“When’s Daddy coming?” Gertrude asked looking at their mother.

“I’m not sure,” Amelia said. “He’s working. He’ll be home when he’s done.”

“But it’s Christmas Eve,” Gertrude said.

“Honey, not everyone can be off on Christmas,” Amelia said. “Your Dad has to work.”

Gertrude crossed her arms and stared at their mother.

“I think I was too young to remember this Christmas,” Fenton said.

The image faded again into darkness and then another appeared in front of him. This time the children were older, about ten and eight.

Once again the two children were decorating the tree. Amelia walked into the room and set a plate of cookies on the table between them. There was also two cups of hot chocolate.

“I remember this Christmas,” Fenton said watching his younger self again as he ate one of the cookies. “This was the Christmas I got a brand new bicycle.”

“Where was your father?” Richard asked quietly.

“He was working,” Fenton admitted. “But he always made time for us during the holidays.”

“Fenton, how many Christmas Eve’s did he help decorate the tree?” Richard asked.

Fenton remained quiet. He couldn’t recall a single Christmas Eve that his father was home. Looking at himself and his sister, he realized each Christmas Eve growing up had been spent with just their mother. Almost all their Christmases were the same way.

“We are going to look at something more recent,” Richard said.

Darkness enveloped them again. When Fenton could see, he saw his young looking wife, Laura, sitting in the living room of their Elm Street home.

The lights from the Christmas tree twinkled in the dimly lit room. Staring at the scene in front of them, he saw his wife cradling their two sons on her lap as Christmas carols were playing on the radio. Laura sang along with the music.

Looking at his sons, he realized he had forgotten how small they had once been. They had grown quickly into strong, young me. Frank appeared to be about two years old and Joe looked like he was a year old.

Both boys had their eyes closed as they sat on their mother’s lap.

“Momma,” Frank said sleepily, gazing up at her.

“What’s sweetie?”

“Where’s Daddy?”

“Daddy is working,” Laura said, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “He’ll be home soon. Come on. Let’s got to bed. Santa comes tonight and he won’t stop if you’re awake down here.”

“Okay.” Frank slid off Laura’s lap and made his way upstairs with Laura following close behind.

“That was your youngest son’s first Christmas,” Richard said. “Where were you?”

Fenton looked down at the ground. He now knew where all this was going. He hadn’t been there for that Christmas. He had been called away on a case in California and had not made it back to celebrate with them until December 28. He had felt bad missing that Christmas, but he had been building a name for himself as a private investigator.

“Where were you for this one?” Richard asked.

Another moment appeared in front of them. Frank and Joe, about 9 and 8 respectively, sat in the living room watching a Christmas program on the television. They were dressed in their pajamas.

Joe turned and looked at Frank. “Is Dad going to make it home tonight?”

“He said he was going to try,” Frank answered keeping his eyes on the television.

Fenton saw a flicker of sadness cross Frank’s face.

“Do you think he will?” Joe asked. “He missed Christmas last year.”

Frank finally looked at his younger brother. “Joe, you know Dad’s work is important and there are times he can’t be with us when we want him to be.”

“But it’s Christmas,” Joe protested. “Dad should be here with us.”

“Joe, Dad is helping people so they can have a good Christmas too. We just have to wait until he comes home and we’ll have Christmas together.”

“We shouldn’t have to wait,” Joe grumbled. “He should be with us.”

“Dad will spend time with us when he gets home. I know he will.”

“Did you?” Richard asked. “Did you spend time with them?”

“I got home on December 27^th and left again the next day for another case. Things were picking up with the investigations,” Fenton quickly explained. “I couldn’t turn the cases down.”

“But you could skip Christmas with your family?”

Fenton turned and looked angrily at Richard. “I have spent plenty of time with my boys when I haven’t been working on a case. And we’ve even spent time together while working on a case.”

“Don’t you think it would mean more to them if you spent Christmas with them?”

“It’s not my fault these cases come up during the holidays,” Fenton said defensively.

“But you could turn them down until afterward.”

“Richard, there is nothing wrong with my life. My children are healthy and happy. And that’s that.”

Darkness swallowed them both.

* * * * *

“Please, sir. You need to wake up. We have many things to do.”

Fenton forced his eyes open again to look into the face of a young woman. She had long brown hair that stretched to her waist. She was dressed all in white except for a poinsettia bloom pinned above her heart.

“Who are you? What do we have to do?” Fenton asked as he sat up. He figured the encounter with Richard had been a dream.

“Sir, I am the ghost of Christmas Present. We have many stops to make, sir. Please, we need to go.”

The woman held out her hand to him. He took her hand and was surprised at how warm it was. He got to his feet and followed the woman.

“I already know what’s going on this Christmas,” Fenton said as they walked through the darkness. Only the light of the path they were on was lit.

“Do you?” she asked. “Do you really know what’s going on?”

“Of course.”

The woman stopped and it seemed as if they lights around them clicked on. Fenton realized he was standing in his youngest son’s bedroom. He saw his son sitting on the seat by the window, staring out into the darkness as a heavy snow fell from the sky.

“Joe,” Fenton said.

“He can’t hear you,” the woman said.

Fenton looked at the woman. “Why did you bring me here?”

“Just watch.”

At that moment there was a knock on the door and Joe said, “Come in.”

The door opened and Frank stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. Frank asked, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“Liar,” Frank said.

Joe turned and glared at his brother. “If you know I’m not all right, why do you ask?”

“Because I want a response from you,” Frank said, moving into the room and sitting on the bed. “Come on. Spill it.”

“I don’t want to get into it,” Joe said, returning his gaze out the window.

“Joe.”

“Would you just leave me alone?!” Joe snapped, turning to face his brother. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine,” Frank said getting to his feet. “You keep your anger bottled up.”

Frank exited the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Footsteps could be heard going down the stairs. A moment later, the front door was slammed shut.

Fenton watched Joe get to his feet and hurry out of the room. He quickly followed his son and stood at the railing. He saw Laura exit the living room, look at the door and then look up the stairs at Joe.

“Did Frank just leave?” Laura asked.

“Yeah,” Joe said reaching the first floor.

“How come?”

“Because I wouldn’t talk to him.”

Laura sighed. “What didn’t you want to talk about?”

Fenton watched Joe look at the floor. Laura moved over to Joe and wrapped her arms around him. Joe hugged Laura in return.

“Joe, I know you don’t want to talk about it, but Frank is just trying to make this a nice Christmas for all of us.”

Joe leaned back from Laura. “It would be a nice Christmas if Dad was here. For as long as I can remember, he hasn’t spent a single Christmas Eve or Christmas with us.”

“Joe,” Laura began.

“Mom, don’t make any excuses for Dad. If he really wanted to be here with us, he would be. His work is more important than us and he has definitely proved that tonight.”

“My work is not more important,” Fenton said. “My family is.”

“Why don’t you see if you can find Frank?” Laura suggested. “He’s probably calmed down by now.”

“Okay.” Joe quickly slid his coat and boots on before leaving the house.

Fenton turned to look at the woman. “Why are you showing me this? These are not my sons. They wouldn’t argue like this. They get along wonderfully.”

“Are you home enough to actually see how they truly behave?”

“I know my sons,” Fenton said angrily. “This is not them.”

“How many Christmases have you spent with your family?”

Fenton stared at the woman, unwilling to answer. He was also unaware of the darkness surrounding them again.

“Let’s see how another family celebrates the holiday.”

They were bathed in light. Fenton turned around and saw he was in the living room of the Morton farm. The Morton’s were friends of the family.

He watched as Richard and Elizabeth Morton entered the room. Elizabeth was carrying a tray that had four steaming mugs of cocoa and a tray of cookies. As the couple settled on the couch, their two children, Chet and Iola, hurried into the room. As Chet sat on the floor, he snatched a couple cookies from the plate.

Richard reached over and turned the radio on, letting soft holiday music fill the room. All four of them began singing with the carols.

Fenton watched the family in awe. He couldn’t believe how easily the family gathered and began signing. He watched Chet and Iola and saw they were happy being in the other’s presence.

When the song finished, Elizabeth looked around at everyone. She said, “I’m so glad we can be together for the holidays. I know in a couple years you two will be off to college and this won’t be happening any more.”

“It will happen,” Chet said.

“It will,” Iola agreed. “There’s no place like home for the holidays.”

“Then each Christmas will be a perfect one,” Elizabeth said.

“So, what are your friends doing for the holidays?” Richard asked.

“Well, Biff has gone to Colorado to see family,” Chet answered. “He’ll be back on the third, just in time for school to resume.”

“Callie is in Florida ,” Iola said.

“Tony is here in Bayport and his relatives have come here,” Chet said. “Phil is also in town.”

“What about Frank and Joe? Are they home or are they investigating a case?” Elizabeth asked, reaching for one of the mugs of cocoa.

“They’re home,” Chet said quietly.

“What’s going on?” Richard asked, looking at his children.

Iola looked at their parents. “Let’s just say that we’re grateful we can spend the holidays with you. There are some families that don’t have that luxury.”

“We’re happy we can spend time with you,” Elizabeth said. “The holidays are a time for family, not matter what else is going on.”

Iola moved over to her mother and gave her a hug.

Darkness swallowed the images in front of him. He stared into the darkness. He felt a jab at his heart.

* * * * *

Fenton felt someone nudging him. He rolled onto his side hoping whoever it was would leave him alone. But the nudging continued. He opened his eyes and rolled onto his back.

He stared in shock at what was hovering over him. A figure in black was by his side. Fenton couldn’t see a face on the figure.

The figure motioned for him to get to his feet and follow. Fenton quickly got to his feet and fell in step. A part of him wasn’t too sure about disobeying the figure’s commands.

The figure stopped moving and Fenton gazed about to see where he was. The darkness lifted and he saw the Elm Street house. He glanced around and saw almost every house on the block was lit up with lights, except for one.

Fenton moved close to the windows and peered inside figuring the lights just hadn’t been turned on inside. But that wasn’t the case. There were no lights or decorations in the room, although a fire was burning in the fireplace.

He watched a woman enter the room carrying a mug. She moved to the recliner that was situated beside the fireplace and sat down. Fenton strained to get a closer look at the woman and realized it was Laura, his wife. She looked as if she had aged 20 years.

He watched her pick up a picture from the table by the chair. He couldn’t see who was in the picture, but he could tell it brought sadness to her when the tears coursed down her cheeks.

Fenton looked back at the figure. “What is going on here? Where are all the decorations? The lights? Frank and Joe?”

The figure didn’t respond, but pointed back at the house.

Fenton turned around just in time to see a blond haired young man enter the living room. He realized it was Joe. He looked around wondering where Frank was.

“What are they saying?” Fenton asked.

A moment later, they were standing by the window inside the house.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the service?” Joe asked.

“I’m sure,” Laura said. “Go enjoy some time with your friends.”

“I can stay here if you want.”

“Go ahead,” Laura said. “I’ll be fine.”

Joe kissed her cheek. “I won’t be late.”

“All right.”

Joe turned and left the house.

As the door closed, Fenton moved closer to Laura to get a closer look at the photograph. Looking down, it was a picture of Frank. It was his junior year photo. Glancing around, he didn’t see any other photos of Frank. He got a sick feeling in his stomach.

Fenton spun to look at the figure. “Where is my son, Frank? Where is he?”

The figure motioned for Fenton to follow him. He glanced at Laura and then fell in step.

Darkness enveloped them once again. He stayed right behind the figure as they made their way through the darkness.

They came to a stop and the darkness lifted like a curtain. He was now standing in Mr. Pizza, a hangout Frank and Joe spent a lot of time at with their friends.

He heard the bell chime as people entered the restaurant. Fenton turned in time to see his son’s friends, who were many years older from the last time he had seen them, make their way inside. He also noticed the sign on the door had been turned to “Closed.” He figured they were there for a private party.

Fenton easily recognized the friends of his sons. Chet and Iola Morton were there, along with Phil Cohen, Biff Hooper, Tony Prito and Callie Shaw.

Instead of sitting at one of the booths, they stood by the counter as if they were waiting for someone. They were standing unnaturally silent.

A moment later the door opened and Joe walked in. He offered all of them a small smile.

“Hey guys. Happy holidays.”

“Happy holidays,” they chorused, but Fenton was aware that there wasn’t any happiness in their voices.

“Guys, I’m glad you’re here, but if you’re not up to it, I do understand,” Joe said.

“Joe, we know this is difficult for you, but we want to do this,” Biff said.

“He was our friend too,” Chet said.

“Yeah,” Iola said. “And we want to be here for you as well.”

“I really appreciate it,” Joe said. “Are we ready to go?”

“Let’s get going,” Biff said.

The seven of them left the restaurant with the door closing behind them.

Fenton looked at the figure. “Where are they going? What’s so difficult for Joe?”

The figure remained silent.

“Tell me something!” Fenton yelled. “Are these images real or what?”

The figure lifted its arms and darkness surrounded them.

Fenton was beginning to worry. He didn’t like the way things were turning out. The sad expression he had seen on Laura’s face was etched in his mind. So was Joe’s. It also bothered him that he had not seen Frank since he’d left the house. It caused great worry that something had happened to his eldest son.

The darkness gave way to a gray filled evening. As he looked around, he realized he was standing in a cemetery. Chills went down his spine as he realized where he was.

As he glanced around at the tombstones, a feeling of dread washed over him as he wondered what he would find. In the distance, he could hear footsteps approaching.

Fenton looked and saw the seven individuals who had left Mr. Pizza together make their way silently through the cemetery. He couldn’t read their faces and wondered what they were doing there on Christmas Eve.

He followed them through the tombstones until they stopped by one made of black granite. From where he was standing, Fenton couldn’t see whose name was etched on the tombstone.

“Well, once again we are all here to see you,” Joe said quietly. “It’s hard to believe that five years have passed since that night.”

“It feels like yesterday,” Phil said quietly.

“It’s weird to think that you are here while the rest of us are going on with our lives,” Tony said. “It still doesn’t seem right.”

“But we are together,” Biff said. “You would want us to go on and do great things with our lives. You wouldn’t want us to sit around and mope.”

“Each day is a challenge,” Joe said. “But I can tell you this, not a day goes by when I don’t think of you. It seems like every minutes of every day you are on my mind.”

“We just came to wish you a Merry Christmas and let you know we will never forget you,” Callie said, emotion filling her voice.

Fenton watched as Iola wrapped her arm around Callie’s shoulder. He felt as if a lead weight had been dropped into the pit of his stomach. He had a terrible feeling he knew who was buried beneath the tombstone.

A light snow began to fall around them. He watched Joe crouch by the headstone and brush some snow away from the base. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out.

“I found this the other day and figured you should have it,” Joe said. “It was supposed to be your gift that year, but I lost it in my room. And I know it’s no big surprise that I did lose something. I know that it was probably a sign that I found it when I did and that I brought it here tonight. I know it’s not much, but I figured it would work for you. And now, you will have it for all eternity.”

Joe dug through the frozen earth a little bit and then buried the object. He looked up and ran his fingers over the engraving. “Merry Christmas.”

After a moment, Joe got to his feet and the seven of them made their way silently out of the cemetery.

Once they were gone, Fenton hurried over to the tombstone. He crouched down beside the granite piece. He looked closely and stared in shock at the inscription. “Frank Hardy. Loving son, brother and friend. A true hero.”

“No,” Fenton said. “This can’t be real. Frank can’t be dead. He can’t be.”

Fenton felt ill. His eldest son was dead. How could he lose his son? It wasn’t fair.

“Why Frank?” Fenton asked as he stared up at the figure. “Why was he taken away from us? He had a long life ahead of him. There were so many experiences he should have had.” Fenton scrambled to his feet facing the figure. “Please tell me this isn’t real. Please tell me. It can’t truly be happening. This is just what could happen in the future should I not think about my boys and my wife first, right?”

Fenton was terrified that this was real. He feared that he had created this future because he hadn’t made time for his sons.

“I can make changes,” Fenton pleaded. “I know I’ve put my work first all the time to boost by reputation. But I can put my sons first. This cycle started with my father, but I am going to make it stop now. Pleas, tell me I have another chance. Please.”

The figure slowly lifted its arm and pointed at the tombstone next to the one with Frank’s name.

Fenton slowly turned to the tombstone. He was terrified of what he was going to find. The snow began to ease and the clouds shifted just enough to allow the moonlight to expose the engraving on the tombstone.

“Fenton James Hardy. Husband and father. Helped to solve other’s problems.”

He sank to his knees when he saw the date etched in the stone. It was the date he had left his family for the case. He had never made it home. Fenton felt sick to his stomach.

“I created this whole mess,” Fenton said as he buried his face in his hands. “I did all this to my sons. I so wish that I had another chance to show them that they do come first in my life with their mother. I wish I had another chance.”

* * * * *

“Fenton. Come on, Fenton. Open your eyes.”

The voice sounded familiar, but Fenton couldn’t believe it was real. He was dead and nothing would ever change that.

“Fenton!”

His eyes flew open and he stared into the pale face of his partner, Sam Radley.

“Sam?”

“Easy, Fenton,” Sam said, placing a hand on Fenton’s shoulder. “The medics have you all ready to go to the hospital.”

“What happened?” Fenton asked.

“Do you remember the stake out at the warehouse to catch the thieves stealing the merchandise?”

“I saw them come in,” Fenton said quietly. “I approached them and they turned on me. They over powered me and I was knocked out.”

“They sure did,” Sam said. “But they didn’t get far. We caught them with the goods on them before they could leave the area.”

“What a relief.” Fenton sighed as he closed his eyes. The case had been wrapped up.

Fenton felt the stretcher jerk into motion and his eyes flew open. He couldn’t go to the hospital. He couldn’t. He had to get home. He had to see his sons.

“No,” Fenton said. “No hospital. I need to get home.”

“After you get checked over,” Sam said. “I’ll even drive you home if the doctor discharges you, but not before then.”

Fenton recognized the no-nonsense voice Sam was using. Sam wasn’t going to budge. But Fenton was determined to do everything in his power to get home to his family as soon as possible.

* * * * *

Fenton spent three hours at the hospital getting checked over by the doctors. They admitted he had a mild concussion, but didn’t think it was so serious that he needed to stay overnight. Upon hearing those words, Fenton demanded the discharge papers.

Within minutes, Fenton had signed the papers and was making his way out of the hospital with Sam. They got into Sam’s car and began the trek to Bayport.

Along the whole ride, Fenton tapped his fingers on his knees. He was anxious to get home. The images he had seen were still vivid in his mind. He wasn’t sure if it had been a dream, a nightmare or if it had been real. No matter what, he knew it wouldn’t be something he would easily forget.

When they finally reached the Bayport limits, Fenton leaned forward in his seat. He wanted to get home. As they drove along, they saw some people were out getting an early start on clearing the snowfall that had accumulated during the night.

The sun was just beginning to break through the horizon when Sam finally pulled the car to a stop by the curb in front of the Elm Street house. The lights on the house were still on. They could also see there were lights on in the living room.

“That’s weird,” Sam said. “There usually aren’t any lights on at this time.”

Fenton looked at the house. He had an uneasy feeling. He said, “I don’t like this.”

He quickly exited the car and hurried toward the front door. He heard Sam following close behind. They made their way inside and stopped. They looked around and really couldn’t see anything out of place.

Fenton hurried upstairs to let Laura know he was home. He entered the master bedroom and stopped short. The room was empty. The bed looked like it hadn’t been slept in. The uneasiness inside him began to increase.

He quickly turned about and moved to Frank and Joe’s rooms. He checked Frank’s first and saw it was empty. Joe’s was the same way. His fears were coming true.

Making his way downstairs, Fenton heard Sam talking to one of the neighbors, Mark Williams.

“Hey, Fenton.”

“Hey, Mark,” Fenton said. “What’s going on?”

“Well, late last night, I saw Joe come home in a rush. He had told Laura there had been an accident and they needed to go to the hospital,” Mark said.

“When was this?” Sam asked.

“About 9 o’clock,” Mark said. “We were seeing some of our friends off when Joe had come home.”

“Thanks for letting us know,” Sam said.

“No problem.”

As Mark headed back home, Fenton stood in place. He realized his nightmare was coming true. Everything he had seen was real.

“Come on, Fenton. We need to get to the hospital.”

Fenton didn’t respond. He just followed Sam to the car and they headed for the hospital.

They made it to the hospital in record time since it was early in the morning. They pulled into the parking lot.

They quickly exited the car and headed for the emergency room entrance. They moved over to the nurse’s desk and Sam said, “We’re looking for the Hardys.”

“You can try the second floor nurse’s station,” the woman said.

Fenton’s stomach tightened into a knot. He knew the entrance to the morgue was on the second floor. He had been there with the police before. Squelching his emotions, he followed Sam to the elevator and made their way to the second floor.

When they stepped out, they made their way to the nurse’s desk.

“We’re looking for Laura Hardy and her sons,” Sam said.

“Are you family?” the nurse asked.

“I’m Laura’s husband and the boy’s father,” Fenton said.

The nurse tapped away at the keyboard for a moment before looking up at them. “They are in room 246.”

Sam and Fenton made their way down the hall to room 246. When they reached the room, they saw the door was closed. Fenton stepped forward and pushed the door open. He was ready for the heartbreak he was going to see on his wife’s face, as well as Joe’s.

Stepping into the room, he saw Laura sitting in a chair with Joe in one beside her. His head was resting on her shoulder and both of their eyes were closed.

He had only taken a couple steps when Laura’s eyes opened and she stared at him. “Fenton!”

Joe’s eyes flew open as Laura got to her feet and hurried to her husband. He closed his eyes as he tightened his hold on her. He couldn’t believe it had happened.

She cried, “I’m so happy you’re home.”

“I’m sorry I left when I did,” Fenton said. “I know I can never make up for it, but I plan to be home a whole lot more.”

“That’s good to hear,” a weak voice said.

Fenton’s eyes flew open. He knew that voice. Turning, he saw Frank was resting in a hospital bed. He was pale and a bandage covered his forehead. His left leg was in a cast and propped up on several pillows. Frank was alive!

Fenton released Laura from his embrace and moved over to the bed. He gently wrapped his arms around Frank and gave him a hug. He said softly, “I’m so glad you’re all right.”

“What are you doing here?” Joe asked as Fenton leaned back from Frank. “Weren’t you working on a case?”

“I was,” Fenton said. “But we were able to wrap it up quickly.”

“Fenton, are you all right?” Laura asked, moving to his side and wrapping his arm around his waist. “You’re awfully pale.

“I’m all right. Now.”

“He is,” Sam said. “He got knocked out for a few minutes, but the doctor said he only had a mild concussion.”

“What?” Frank, Joe and Laura chorused.

“It’s not serious,” Fenton said. “I’m all right.”

“I see that you are in good hands, Fenton,” Sam said. “So, I’m going to head on home.”

Fenton reached out and shook Sam’s hand. “Thanks for everything.”

“You’re welcome.”

Laura kissed Sam on the cheek. “Thank you and have a happy holiday.”

“You too,” Sam said. He looked at Frank and Joe. “Happy Holidays, guys.”

“Happy Holidays, Sam,” Joe said.

Sam smiled and left the room. Once the door was closed, Laura moved Fenton around to the other side of the bed and helped him sit down in the chair. He was grateful to be sitting, but he was ecstatic to see both his sons were all right.

Fenton focused his gaze on Frank. “Tell me how you ended up here.”

“I went for a walk,” Frank began. “It was snowing steadily and I wasn’t really paying attention to what was going on around me.”

“I was following Frank and was a bit behind him when I saw a kid crossing the street and a car going into a skid,” Joe said. “I called out his name.”

“I looked up just in time to see what was to happen. I ran toward the little boy and pushed him out of the way. The car hit me. I don’t remember much until waking here.”

“The car hit him hard and he went flying,” Joe said. “Luckily the driver had a cell phone and I was able to call for an ambulance.”

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Fenton asked, looking Frank over carefully.

“I have a broken leg and a bit of a concussion,” Frank said. “The doctors just want me to stay overnight.”

“Really?” Fenton asked, looking at Laura.

“Really,” Laura said. “It was a clean break and the doctors believe it will heal fine. They said they’d release him this morning.”

“Just in time for Christmas,” Fenton said.

“Yeah,” Joe said.

Fenton looked at Frank and said his son’s eyes were starting to close. Silence settled on the room as Frank fell into a fitful sleep.

* * * * *

Hours later, the Hardy family left the hospital together. When they reached the house, they headed inside. They gathered in the living room.

As Frank and Joe began opening their gifts, Fenton realized this was where he was supposed to be. He was supposed to be with his family. He was grateful that what he had seen wasn’t real. He had been given another chance and he was going to make the most of it. His job was important, but his family needed to come first. He was going to make sure those images never became reality. That nightmare would never happen to his family.

Fenton had gotten a wake up call that Christmas.

“Merry Christmas,” Fenton said.

“Merry Christmas,” Laura, Joe and Frank chorused.

-The End-

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