Caught off guard by the question, Vanessa narrowed her eyes. “Fighting with Mom.” She blinked and looked over at Callie. “Why was I fighting with Mom?”

Callie looked puzzled. “I don’t know.” She turned to Frank. “What’s going on? Why do I remember a helicopter ride? Frank, we didn’t go on a helicopter...did we?”

Vanessa looked near tears. “This doesn’t make sense. I don’t know—” She broke off as the cafeteria doors swung open again. She barely noticed who it was until the girl stopped beside them.

“Is everything okay?”

Joe turned to see Leigh Wolfe studying him intently. “We’re fine.”

Leigh took a step back, brushing the long single braid off her shoulder. “There’s no need to be angry. I’m not trying to pry.”

“Leigh, where did you—” Her twin sister skidded to a stop. “Oh, hey. How did your Easter break go?”

Leigh pushed her sister back. “Don’t ask, Quinn.”

Frank cleared his throat. “Leigh—” But the twins had already gone back into the cafeteria.

Callie took a deep breath. “She must have...sensed something.”

Joe stared at the cafeteria doors. “I didn’t mean to be mean or anything.” He started forward when the doors swung outward again, nearly hitting him. He jumped back and nearly fell.

“I knew you two were trouble from the moment I saw you. What did you say to Leigh?” Dyllan Graves, the twins’ cousin, looked ready to fight.

A moment later, Merlyn Slade was beside him. “Dyllan, no. Not on school grounds. Remember last time.”

“It wasn’t my fault, last time.”

Merlyn rolled her green eyes and turned to Frank and Joe. “I don’t know what’s going on but I thought we were friends.”

“I’m sorry. We had a rough vacation,” said Joe. “Please, tell Leigh I didn’t mean anything by that. It’s just...”

Merlyn nodded. “Something bad happened.” She lowered her voice. “I’ll tell them.” She tugged on Dyllan’s arm. “Come on, Neanderthal. Let’s go finish lunch.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“You’re right. It’s an insult to Neanderthals,” Merlyn said as she headed back into the cafeteria.

Dyllan grunted. “Lyn...”

Their voices faded as the doors swung shut behind them. Joe sighed. “Grand Central Station, here. We need someplace to talk.”

Vanessa pointed down the hallway. “The library. It’s quiet at lunchtime.”

Frank followed her and Joe down the hall, holding Callie’s hand. He wasn’t sure why the memories didn’t seem to be making sense but he hoped they could figure it out.

They walked through the double doors of the library and headed for a table in the back. Once seated, they all just stared at the table for a long moment. Joe cleared his throat. “Van, what else do you remember?”

Vanessa shuddered. “Mom wanted to go home. Said she didn’t...know...” She shook her head. “No. We went to Easter sunrise service at Callie’s cousins’ place. We went shopping...” She shook her head again. “Why can’t I remember what happened?”

“I think you are,” said Joe, quietly.

“Both things couldn’t have happened, Joe. Because...” Vanessa shivered, although it wasn’t that cool in the library. “Because when Mom and I are fighting about going home, it’s because...you’re not there anymore.”

Callie started to say something but swallowed hard instead. “Frank...what’s going on?”

“I wish I knew.” Frank sighed. “Maybe we should talk to someone.”

“But they may not want to talk to us now,” said Joe. He glanced over his shoulder at the entrance but the doors didn’t open. He shrugged. “Would have been too coincidental anyway.”

They all heard the bell for their next classes. Callie groaned. “Our stuff’s still in the cafeteria.”

Just then the doors opened up and Merlyn and her cousins came in, loaded down with book-sacks. “Here.”

Joe arched an eyebrow. “Where were you a minute ago?”

Vanessa shook her head. “Ignore him.”

Merlyn looked at the four of them. “I don’t know if we can help. We’d like to try.”

Leigh nodded. “You helped us time and again.”

“But it’ll have to be after school,” said Quinn, still not looking as friendly as she usually did. “I can’t miss this class; Leigh said there’s going to be a pop quiz.”

Joe looked up at Leigh. “I’d be forever grateful if you could let me know ahead of time too.”

Leigh smiled. “Joe, I’m not in all of your classes.” She patted his shoulder and the smile faded. “But we definitely need to talk later.”

Joe nodded and thanked the girls for bringing their stuff. “Let’s get to class before we’re all in trouble.”

Vanessa held his hand for a moment. “You’re not going to disappear on me, are you?”

Both Callie and Frank winced but tried to hide it. Joe caught their expressions and rolled his eyes. “Stop that.” He started for the doors only to skid to a halt, nearly knocking Vanessa down. He spun around. “I saw that lamp...in Barbados.”

Callie went pale. “How is that possible?”

Joe took a deep breath. “I have no idea.” He glanced over his shoulder. “We’d better get to class before all our teachers think we’re playing hooky.”

The four of them left the library and headed for their next class. Joe tightened his grip on his book-sack, hoping they could figure out what was going on. He couldn’t shake the feeling something was very wrong about all this.

*****

Wednesday, April 19^th

3:41 pm

Although no one had said exactly where they were going to talk about things, everyone wound up in the school library again, but when the librarian shooed them out, they all headed for the pizzeria in the mall. Now seated in a corner of the pizzeria, two large pizzas between the eight of them, they could talk. Merlyn sipped her soda and then took a deep breath. “So...what happened?”

“Yeah,” muttered Dyllan. “You went to the Caribbean, right? Run into pirates or something?”

Quinn nudged her cousin hard. “That only happens in cheesy old movies.”

Joe stared down at the table. “What if I said we did?”

Dyllan shrugged. “Hey, piracy isn’t dead. There are high-tech pirates all over down there.”

Joe finally raised his head. “What if they weren’t high-tech pirates?”

Leigh frowned. “Real pirates? As in peg-legs and parrots?”

Joe winced. “Annoying parrots,” he said absently. Then he blinked and looked at Leigh. “No peg-leg.”

Dyllan shook his head. “You can’t be serious.”

Merlyn studied Joe for a moment. “I think he is.” She looked over at Frank. “What did happen down there?”

Callie took a deep breath. “There was a sniper...” She shuddered and continued, “The sniper shot at the Jetski Joe was riding.”

“If Joe hadn’t seen the sun glinting off a rifle scope....” Vanessa said. She swallowed hard and shivered, moving closer to Joe. “I feel like I nearly lost you – but you’re here safe and sound.” She shook her head. “How weird is that?”

“What else happened?” asked Leigh. She looked uneasy and worried. “Something else happened, didn’t it.”

Frank sighed. “Our memories are messed up, like we remember some things but then other things we remember don’t match up.” He squared his shoulders. “I have vague memories of being an...only child, but then I have...nightmares of...losing Joe. It doesn’t make any sense.”

Joe slowly turned to look at him. “Of losing me? But I got clear of the Jetski....” The memory of landing on rough wood sparked through his head.

Leigh frowned. “What do you remember, Joe?”

“Being somewhere else. Alone, stranded – I’m so alone and I can’t trust anyone...”

Stunned by the sadness on his face, Vanessa reached out to take his hand. “Oh, Joe, you’re not alone. You have—”

Joe stiffened in his chair. “That’s not possible. The explosion didn’t touch me.”

Vanessa touched his arm. “I remember crying on a bathroom floor. Joe, why am I remembering different things?”

Dyllan grunted. “If this was some sci-fi movie, I’d have to say you all are suffering from temporal displacement. But this isn’t a movie, so I’m chalking it up to too much fun in the Caribbean.” He jumped suddenly and glared at Merlyn. “What did you kick me for?”

“Because I wanted to,” snapped Merlyn. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

“I was supposed to?” asked Dyllan. He scooted his chair back from the table. “Don’t you dare kick me again.”

“Temporal displacement,” said Quinn, frowning. “What would that be in English, Dyllan?”

Dyllan heaved a very loud sigh. “Time travel.”

Frank flashed to a blue glow in the woods, coming home from watching a movie with Joe and their girlfriends. He looked over at Joe and saw that his brother appeared to be thinking the same thing. “Joe....”

Joe shook his head. “I like sc-ifi movies with the best of ‘em, but that can’t happen in real life.”

Dyllan nodded. “At last, sanity has returned. Now, let’s go.”

Quinn twisted around to glare at her cousin. “Keep it up, Dyllan, and I’ll be forced to do something.”

“Idle threats.”

“Not if I sic Grandmother on you.”

“You wouldn’t.” Dyllan folded his arms across his chest and grunted again. “Fine, I’ll shut up. Not say another word, no matter how crazy it gets.”

Quinn gave a sharp nod. “Fine.”

“Fine,” muttered Dyllan.

Merlyn shook her head and looked over at Frank and Joe. “Is it possible the memories are from you traveling into...was it the past?”

“Yes,” said Joe at the same time Frank said, “No.”

The brothers shared another look as Merlyn’s green eyes widened. “Only one of you...” She pointed at Joe. “The explosion kicked you into the past?”

“How is that even possible?” asked Dyllan. “That’s like saying every time a bomb explodes it sends people into the past. Oh, that’s good. Time bomb.”

Quinn glared at him. “Thought you were shutting up.”

Dyllan rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

Merlyn looked around the table. “Does anyone mind if I kick him out of here? Maybe Tony could play bouncer and escort Dyllan out.”

“Hey...” Dyllan got to his feet, grabbed a slice of pizza. “Well, I know when I’m not wanted. I’ll be waiting by the van.”

There was an uneasy silence after he left. Joe cleared his throat. “Merlyn...”

“Dyllan wasn’t taking this seriously. He never takes things seriously until it’s usually too late,” Quinn said. “He’s the thorn in my side.”

“I thought it was your paw,” said Callie, trying hard not to let the strangeness of it all overwhelm her.

“That would be even worse,” muttered Quinn. She rested her elbows on the table. “Temporal displacement. It could explain the confusion of your memories.”

Joe shook his head. “No. It can’t. How could it possibly explain...” He broke off, scooted his chair back and left the food court.

Startled, Frank watched him go for a second and then got up as well. He turned to Callie. “I’ll call you later, okay.”

Callie grabbed his hand. “Frank, what...?”

“I need to go after Joe.”

Callie nodded. “Okay. Okay, I’ll be home later.”

Vanessa stared at the glass doors. “I’ll call Joe tonight, Frank.”

“Sounds good. I’d better go.” Frank sketched a wave and headed out of the mall. He found Joe in the van, revving the engine. “Joe...”

“I have to find out.”

“Find out what?” Frank noticed the route they were taking. “Why are we headed for the salle?”

Joe parked across from the salle and took a deep breath. “Frank, I keep feeling as if I’m wielding something long and heavy...like a sword...” He shook his head. “Never mind. This sounds absolutely insane.” Joe got out of the van and hurried across the street.

Frank watched his brother a moment and then quickly got out of the van. He dashed across the street amid blaring horns and stepped into the fencing studio. After his little adventure in Germany, he’d gotten soured on fencing for a while. Now he only practiced when he thought about it.

He found Joe standing just in the doorway, watching a tall dark-haired man wield a lethal-looking sword. The sound of metal clanging against metal was loud in the studio. Frank watched the dark-haired man and Coach Laslo Kupcek sword-play. They weren’t fencing, Frank realized because neither man held an epee.

The two men finished and bowed to each other. Kupcek seemed to sense someone was there but spotted Joe first. “I know you, don’t I?”

“Joe Hardy, Coach. You met me about a year ago...”

Kupcek nodded, smiling. Then he spotted Frank. “Frank, we’ve missed you terribly. Are you starting back?”

Frank walked across the polished wooden floor. “Hi, Coach. Not right now.” He gestured to Joe. “He drove us over here.”

Joe took a deep breath, looking extremely unsettled. “Coach Kupcek, I need...I need to show you something.” He caught the dark-haired man studying him for a long moment. “Maybe privately?”

Kupcek looked puzzled. “Ah, boys, this is Duncan MacLeod, an old dear friend of mine. Duncan, this is Joe and Frank Hardy...”

Duncan gave a distracted smile, glanced at his katana sword a moment and then tossed it – blade pointing up, carved ivory hilt down – toward Joe. Frank’s eyes went wide and he moved to catch the sword before it hit his brother. Even Kupcek looked stunned by the move.

In a lightning quick move, Joe’s right arm snaked out and grasped the sword by its hilt. He twisted his wrist, rotating the sword in a fast forward move and then back, like he’d handled a sword all his life.

Frank stared at his brother, knowing full well what he was seeing shouldn’t even be possible. He barely registered the odd look on MacLeod’s face. “Laslo,” said MacLeod with a strong Scottish brogue. “Another sword.”

Looking dazed, Laslo grabbed another sword and handed it to Duncan. Duncan spun the sword in a forward-backward arc, copying Joe’s move. He then extended his free arm and walked slowly in a circle, forcing Joe to turn to continue facing him.

Frank felt his heart skip a beat as MacLeod lunged at Joe. Joe parried the thrust almost negligently and nearly flipped the sword out of MacLeod’s hand. MacLeod stepped back and tried a different lunge. This time Joe’s blade slid along the length of MacLeod’s with a metallic screech. He twisted his wrist and the sword was ripped from MacLeod’s hand. The sword spun in mid-air, hit the floor and skidded across the room to bump Frank’s foot. He barely noticed it, too busy watching Joe. Where had his baby brother learned to swordfight like that?

In the sudden stunned silence, someone started clapping. Frank blinked and saw MacLeod bow to Joe and smile. “You are quite talented, young man. Where did you learn that last trick?”

Something in the man’s tone bothered Frank. He stepped forward to look at his brother. “Joe...”

Joe blinked and lowered the heavy sword. A part of him wondered how he’d known exactly how to balance the weight, how to move. He gave MacLeod an embarrassed look. “I’m sorry. That was rude wasn’t it, using your own sword against you.”

MacLeod cocked his head to one side, making the low ponytail he wore swing slightly. “I freely offered it to you.” The man looked over at Kupcek. “I thought you said your gifted pupil’s name—”

“Was Frank.” Kupcek tore his gaze from Joe to look at Frank. “Have you been practicing with your brother?”

Frank shook his head. “No. Never. He was—” Frank wasn’t sure how to explain a year ago when he’d first started fencing, Joe had thought it was a ridiculous sport and loved to tease Frank about it. After that little trip to Germany and nearly getting himself killed, Frank had drifted away from fencing and had decided he’d much rather prefer being a detective than anything else. “He wasn’t interested.”

Joe took a deep breath, tossed the sword handle up, caught it and handed it to MacLeod, hilt first. He blinked and took a startled step back. “Um...”

MacLeod shrugged. “You must have been a sword-master in a previous life,” he said, a rueful expression on his face.

Joe gave his head a little shake and gave the man a hard look. “Previous? You mean reincarnation? Don’t be ridiculous.”

MacLeod walked over to a bench and carefully laid the blade down on a towel. He glanced over his shoulder at Joe. “You don’t believe in the possibility of past lives?”

Frank moved to his brother’s side, still puzzled by his apparent ability. “No, we don’t.”

“Pity that,” said MacLeod as he turned around. “Would make things a hell of a lot more simple, wouldn’t you think?” As he asked, his dark brown eyes looked Joe up and down.

Frank wondered about the man’s obvious interest in his brother. “What do you mean?”

“It would solve all our problems, wouldn’t it?” MacLeod lifted one shoulder in a shrug and smiled.

Laslo Kupcek slowly shook his head. “Duncan...”

MacLeod looked over at him and his smile widened. “Ah, Laslo, no harm done.” He looked back at Joe. “Talent like that shouldn’t be wasted.”

Joe looked down at his hands. “I...I don’t know how I know...what to do...”

Frank swallowed hard, thinking on what they’d just been talking about. Temporal displacement – time travel. He cleared his throat. “Maybe you just...don’t remember,” he said softly.

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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.