Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

Chapter Thirteen: Trading Explanations

When I finally got my eyes open, feeling dizzy and disoriented, the first person I saw clearly was Dad. He was standing beside my bed, looking down at me with a relieved expression. I immediately knew everything was all right, but it was a minute or two before I could untangle my tongue and speak. I took a moment to glance around, slowly, and recognized the bedroom Joe and I had been using in the Hoopers’ cabin. Chet and Biff were also nearby, and I caught a glimpse of Joe in the bed beside me, still out cold.

“I am so glad to see you all. I thought we’d end up brainwashed in Greenland ,” was my first coherent remark. I sounded a little foggy and weak, but I wasn’t slurring, and that was something.

“Nowhere near it,” Chet answered complacently. “Safe and sound in Vermont , and still in possession of your wits- at least, you sound like it.”

“How do you feel?” Dad asked, crouching beside the bed to talk to me. I became aware of the warmth of the air and pushed back the sheet that was covering me. Dad was in jeans and a light shirt, but the fellows were in shorts, so it wasn’t just that I’d gotten used to the chilly Canadian air; it really was warm.

“Tired,” I decided after considering for a moment. “A little dazed…and puzzled.” I saw Joe stir in his bed and felt another wash of relief. “And very glad- so the plan worked?”

“It did. We got your message and set off at once, radioing for support from upriver. We caught the boat just before it got to the falls, surrounded it, and had little trouble getting them to surrender. In fact, it was a few minutes before they realized who it was that had come to their aid. You two did quite a job with your ‘technical difficulties.’”

I smiled; that was what Joe called it, but our plan had really been little more than simple sabotage and it had hinged on our hope that the crew wouldn’t be able to repair the damage before the FBI arrived. “Did they actually have spare parts, or not?” I inquired. That had been the most nerve-racking part of the whole thing, for we had not had time to look around and see what was replaceable and what was not. Too short of a delay could have been disastrous for us.

“They did have spare parts, but not for the equipment you wrecked,” Dad replied, smiling.

“Good,” Joe murmured from the other bed.

“We figured we’d better destroy something that wasn’t too time-consuming to fix,” I explained. “Otherwise they might’ve got suspicious. Especially with the fire starting right then.”

“Yes, that might have been considered too much of a coincidence,” Dad agreed. “We were rather worried when we saw all the smoke, though I had a feeling you two might have something to do with it,” he added calmly.

“One of the boys set the fire with oily rags, as a diversion, so he could slip in and let us loose. None of the kids had the know-how to sabotage anything themselves, and we couldn’t get out of the hold without help.” I looked at my wrists: rope burns, of course. But not as bad as it might’ve been.

“An’ besides, it seemed log’cal that something’d get damaged in the confusion of putting fire out,” my brother agreed, yawning. “Water damage, even, from the bucket brigade.”

“Sensible thinking. It did make it easy to pinpoint the boat.”

“Say. What about the boys, Delta and Omega and all? We knew they weren’t clones when they started remembering their parents, but what’s going to happen to them?” Joe inquired, sounding more awake.

“They’ve been taken into government custody for the time being, until their families can be located. They’re already re-orienting fairly quickly, so even if Rhee didn’t keep records of their real selves, they should be remembering their names and homes very soon.”

“So everything’s wrapping up nicely,” I mused, slowly sitting up. “Dad, what day is it?” I wondered suddenly, seeing the angle of the sunlight. As I spoke, Chet nudged Biff and they both slipped out of the room.

“It’s Saturday,” Dad started.

“Yikes, we lost a day,” Joe murmured. “It was Thursday, last I recall.”

“Yes, we found you Thursday around five-thirty and it’s now a little after two Saturday afternoon. Rhee assured me the sleeping dose he gave you would have no ill effects…” Dad trailed off significantly, glancing from Joe to me.

“I feel okay, just hungry.” I was quickly becoming aware of the emptiness of my stomach and a general weakish feeling- rather as if I was recovering from a bad cold.

“Me, too,” Joe agreed, sitting up and stretching. “Well, maybe a little run down,” he admitted a moment later. “But we hadn’t eaten much for a while anyway-”

“And we were running on short sleep, too,” I recalled. “And then all that tracking around in the woods, to top it all off.” We looked it, too, I realized after a moment. We were still in the lumberjack disguises we’d put on two days ago.

“I imagine you’ll feel more like yourselves when you’ve had something to eat and washed up, but I hope you’ll take it easy for a few days.”

“That’s what vacation is for,” Joe replied, and gave me a grin when I smiled.

“Yes, but that’s what we thought last weekend,” I reminded him.

“I guess we’ll just have to work harder at relaxing, this time around,” he retorted.

Dad laughed and stood up, and at that moment Chet and Biff re-entered the room. They were each carrying a tray loaded with what seemed like a feast. There was hot chicken soup, cold sandwiches, peanut-butter coated apple slices, glasses of milk, and chocolate-chocolate-chip cookies. We both dove into it, and I savored every crumb and drop.

“This beats that stew by a mile,” Joe remarked at one point, referring to the horrible concoction that we’d been served while undercover at the lumber camp.

“Ten miles,” I countered, and then had to pause and explain that while searching out Dr. Rhee’s base, we’d stopped to try and gather information from several lumber camps along the way and stayed the night at one called Peapack. The name made Chet and Biff laugh; Joe took over and explained that the workers at Peapack had been one of a bunch in cahoots with Rhee and Lafoote.

"They were very unfriendly, except for the cook. He was helpful, but his food was terrible," I concluded, and turned my attention back to my sandwich.

After I finished eating, I did feel a good deal better and got up to take a shower and change clothes. When I was done, Joe took a turn, and we both agreed we felt one hundred percent improved. Dad didn’t discuss the case any further, but suggested that if we were up to it, we could try some mild exercise. Like fishing. That met with everyone’s immediate approval, and we were soon out on the pier, fishing rods in hand. It was another pretty afternoon, warm and clear with just enough of a breeze to ripple the dark surface of the lake. No one said much as we baited our hooks and cast our lines in. I sat down cross-legged and watched my bobber intently, slowly putting Canada out of my mind and taking in the present reality. The Hooper's cabin, the lake, my father and brother beside me, our friends nearby...

To our disgust, Joe and I both tired more quickly than usual, both from the aftereffect of the drug and the general lack of food. When Dad saw that we were tiring, he made us put our fishing gear away and shooed us inside to rest while he worked the grill and our friends did the rest of the supper preparations. We’d half-expected the menu to include the fish we’d caught, but Chet shook his head importantly from behind the kitchen counter.

“Red meat,” he explained succinctly. “Fish tomorrow- for lunch, maybe.”

“Not for breakfast, like they do overseas?” Joe asked innocently, and I laughed.

“Well, if you want to miss out on my special pancakes...” Chet paused significantly.

“Fish don’t go well with maple syrup,” Biff remarked, and Joe nodded thoughtfully.

“Lunch it is,” he agreed.

An hour later, when the aroma from the grill was making me so hungry I felt I could eat a mothball, the meal was finally served. Steak with fried onions and mushrooms, corn, potato salad and biscuits. We all ate so much that no one said or did much of anything for half an hour afterwards, but eventually we did stir ourselves to do the dishes, clean the grill, and have dessert. We all sat around on the porch talking for a while after that, though not about the ‘demons den’.

Joe and I turned in not long after dessert, drowsy from the fresh air and the large dinner. Joe fell asleep almost at once, but I lay awake for a little while, taking in the bright moonlight patterns on the walls and floor and wondering if I was in for bad dreams. Then I heard the door creak open, and, to my surprise, Dad came quietly into our room. I thought he’d come to say goodnight, but instead he spread a pallet on the floor between our beds, arranged it to his liking, and lay down. “I thought you’d sleep on the couch,” I murmured. “More comfortable.”

“I find I prefer to be in here,” was all he said, but a warm feeling went through me at his inference. It was really nice to know he was close by, keeping an eye on us; reassuring.

I was even more pleased when he stayed around most of the next day- Sunday. He had another case waiting, but he said point blank that it could wait a little longer while he spent some time with us. He wanted to make sure we were all right, physically and emotionally, and we really enjoyed having him there.

I felt a lot better after the genuine rest, and Joe was nearly as energetic as usual. We explored the woods a bit, but since it was overcast, with showers every now and again, we mainly hung around and did indoor things- talking and listening to music and reading. Dad did bring up the case again, but didn’t ask for many details, only wanted clarification on the facts that were relevant to his part of the investigation. I was glad of that; I had some serious feelings to get in order and didn’t really feel like trying to go over all the scary parts yet.

Later that night, though, I wished I’d taken the chance while I had it. After we finished dinner, Dad gathered up his things, loaded his car, hugged us goodbye, and left. Joe and I stood on the porch, watching the rental car’s taillights disappear around a corner, both of us feeling subdued and ill-at-ease. I rather wished we’d gone with him, though all he was doing was going to the nearest airport to return the car and fly back to New York.

“Maybe we shoulda gone with him.” Joe voiced my thought after several minutes of gloomy silence.

“He wouldn’t have taken us. He wants us to relax, have some downtime,” I reminded him. He moved a little closer with a sigh and a nod and I leaned my arm against his shoulder.

“Let’s go inside.”

We did that, and eventually our moods lightened; Chet and Biff were sympathetic and managed to cheer us up with some card games and banter. All the same, we both had a restless night when we finally went to bed. After considerable tossing and turning on both our parts, I turned the light on and helped Joe move his bed over so we were side by side. After that, we both relaxed enough to fall asleep.