Wednesday, September 20, 2000 (8 PM)

       Frank slowly picked himself up off the floor and rubbed at a very sore spot on his left cheek.  He heard Samantha crying in the booth as he groped around with his toe to find his cane.  Someone grabbed him from behind and his instincts chose that moment to take over.  He grabbed his attacker by the shirt collar and flipped the attacker over his shoulder.  The attacker grunted and Frank reached down, groping for his collar.

       “Higher up, Frank,” Samantha whispered to him, her voice strained.

       Frank reached higher, found what he was looking for and sent a hard right into what he hoped was the man’s face, his knuckles curled in a karate fist.  The man groaned again and landed back again with a soft thud.

       Frank was about to turn to face someone else when he heard Samantha make another cry, heard something that sounded like someone being hit or kicked and heard someone else fall a moment later.  Someone slid past him and he heard another kick and another, then the flesh-against-flesh crack of someone being slapped.

       “Here, Frank,” Sam said a moment later and he felt his cane sliding into his hand.  “It’s all right, they’re all unconscious.  We got them.”

       Suddenly, Frank heard the sounds of cheering and he stood shakily back to his feet and waved at them all.  Samantha slid his sunglasses back on his face and he reached around her to hug her.  His cheek stung, but not bad enough that it bothered him much.  He felt something warm press up against it and realized it was a napkin dipped in water. 

       “Are you all right?” he asked Samantha when he noticed her hand was shaking.  He grasped it in his own and held it.  “Sam?”

       “I’m all right,” Samantha whispered to him.  “That was just a little too scary for me.  As bad as the day we went to rescue Joe and Connor from Doctor Rich.  How in the world do you and Joe do this all the time?”

       “You did great,” Frank told her.  “I didn’t see it, but I heard it.”

       “Are you all right?” Samantha asked him.  “Is it just your cheek?”

       Frank nodded.  “I’m fine, don’t worry about me.  I’m fine.  All in one piece, he didn’t manage to land a single hit on me.”

       She leaned her head on his chest and he held onto her until the police arrived.  Frank heard the voice of his old friend, Con Riley, as Con was coming into the restaurant. 

       “Frank?” Con said.  “Is that you?”

       “It’s me,” Frank nodded to him in agreement. 

       “You’re looking well,” Con grunted, probably from picking up one of the would-be robbers off the ground.  “Better than the last time I saw you at any rate.  How are things going?”

       “I’m adjusting,” Frank said with a casual shrug. 

       “Quit your moaning, you got yourself into this,” Con said, probably to one of the prisoners.  “Next time, try a real job, like McDonald’s.”

       Samantha giggled and Frank squeezed her, gently, and gave her an answering smile.

       “So, who took these three out?” Con asked.  “Don’t tell me…”

       “I only took out two of them, Con,” Frank informed his friend.  “Samantha is responsible for the other one.  I didn’t see it but it sounded like a fairly substantial hit.”

       “They were threatening us,” Samantha protested.  “They were picking on Frank and they were trying to get me to go with them!  We couldn’t just sit here and let them do it, could we?”

       “No, no you couldn’t,” Con said to her.  “Well, seems you’re not totally helpless, Frank.  I do believe I told you that several times when you were in the hospital, didn’t I?”

       “Yes you did and so I’m learning,” Frank said, dryly.  “I suppose you need us to give statements?”

       “If you’d be so kind,” Con told him.  “I realize you won’t be able to eye-witness, but you can at least give us what you did and heard.”

       “Don’t worry,” Samantha said.  “I can give plenty of eye-witness.  If you want testimony, you’ve got testimony.  I’m so angry I could kick them all!”

       “Again,” Frank chuckled as he squeezed her waist.  “My brave heroine!”

       “So can we!” Miguel called out. “I saw it all.  Melina saw it all!  We shall testify!  These hooligans shall not get away with their attack on us!”

       Sam giggled again.

       “Meet us down at the station, if you don’t mind,” Con told his witnesses.  “We’ll get you out of there as soon as we can.”

 

       “Did you notice any kind of gang colors on those robbers, Sam?” Joe Hardy asked his brother’s girlfriend later that night as the Hardys, their boyfriend and girlfriends, Chet and his girlfriend Kaitlyn, all sat around a table in the snack bar, munching on a large box of popcorn. 

       Samantha thought for a moment and then shrugged and shook her head.  “It wasn’t very light in that restaurant, Joe.  I know the men’s faces quite well, but the colors might have been any dark color, purple or blue or black, even.  Why?”

       “Well, I broke up a gang attack on Anna Phillips earlier,” Joe said as he rubbed at a very sore spot on his right shoulder.  “And then two more of them jumped me on the back path outside the dorm.  I guess I’m just looking for more things to blame on them after all that’s happened.”

       “I honestly don’t remember,” Samantha shook her head as she took out another handful of popcorn and slowly slid it, piece-by-piece, into her mouth.  “Of course, I was concentrating more on not getting dragged away by them than anything else.  And when Frank got shot, I almost panicked.”

       Joe looked over at his brother who was rubbing at the band-aid now covering the abrasion on his cheek.  His brother had the patience of a saint sometimes, Joe was certain.  For all the troubles of the evening, Frank looked as though he had a simple night out to eat and was now enjoying an evening with friends.  Joe shook his head.  Nobody should be picking on anyone like that, much less someone who was blind.  Frank, Joe was glad to hear, had been anything but defenseless. 

       “Do you guys think this is a case of some kind, or just random acts of violence?” Connor asked before he took a drink of his soda.  “We just got over the scare with Doctor Rich and the year’s just started.  Perhaps we should all stick to the buddy team thing again?”

       “The girls for sure,” Chet suggested.  He sat with his arm casually around the shoulders of his new girlfriend, eighteen-year-old Kaitlyn Matthews.  Kaitlyn glanced shyly up at her boyfriend and then looked even more shyly at the rest of them. Kaitlyn’s soft, blonde hair draped casually over one shoulder and fell in a straight fall of silk to mid-back.  Her green eyes held just the slightest hint of confusion, confusion probably because she was unaware of Frank and Joe’s past.  She sometimes just sat quietly when in the group and listened but said little.  When she looked around, however, her eyes were quite expressive and her Australian accent drove Joe just a little wild.  She was getting comfortable with them all but rarely looked long at any of them.  She had the advantage, too, of having met Frank only after Frank went blind, she tended not to expect him to look at her, as the rest of them did.  Joe knew Frank made Kaitlyn a little uncomfortable but she hid it well, especially when she spoke to Frank. 

       “We can do that again,” Vanessa agreed, gray eyes alight with a fierce fire, as she leaned against Joe and popped some popcorn into her mouth.  She had her blonde hair up in a ponytail that looped over one shoulder, usually Joe’s when she leaned against him like she was now.  “We’ll just have to make sure we have it scheduled, since some of us help Frank too.  But I don’t see it being a problem.”

       “What should we do in the meantime?” Mandy asked.  “We could start scouting the campus to see if we can figure out what those gangbangers are up to.  They don’t have any business on campus, we all agree to that, right?”

       “If you do,” Frank warned them.  “Be careful.  People in gangs tend to be very… rough.  And dangerous.  They’ve already attacked two people now and it’s possible they have a vendetta against Joe now.”

       A good way to say she shouldn’t do it but he wouldn’t forbid her to do it, Joe thought.  Then again, one did not tell Amanda Hardy that she couldn’t do something.  Joe, who knew her even better than Connor, knew that quite well.  Frank knew it too.

       “We’ll be careful, Frank,” Mandy promised her older brother.  “Trust me, we had enough excitement two weeks ago, I don’t really need that much again right now, but thanks.  Besides, I don’t think I could make another shot like that to save my life.  Seriously, though.  Maybe we should make sure that Joe isn’t alone.  You’re the one they’re after, right?”

       Joe shrugged, and then said, “I don’t know, maybe,” for the benefit of Frank.  That was hard to remember to do.  He was used to being able to speak in gestures and breaking himself of the habit was not an easy thing to do.  This time he’d remembered to vocalize his gesture but normally he had to be reminded.  Ah, well, so he was getting better at this too.

       “Look, you,” Vanessa turned to face him.  “I’m not interested in dating a hero, remember?  So be careful!  I’d just as soon keep you all in one piece, if you don’t mind.”

       “Amen!” Mandy said in agreement. 

       “Then again,” Samantha said in a teasing voice.  “If he was in pieces there would be ever so much more of him to around.  Think of how happy all of the girls whose hearts he’s breaking will be if they had a small piece of the renowned Joe Hardy!  We could make a lot of money from that.”

       Vanessa turned to regard Joe as Joe proceeded, much against his will, to blush brightly.  He hid behind one of the fake menus on the table until his face felt less red and he looked back over at Samantha.

       “Any and all profits made off of the renowned Joe Hardy will be used for the benefit of Joe Hardy,” he announced in a mock-superior voice.  “And the renowned Joe Hardy…”

       “Will need a new hat for head!” Mandy reached out and patted him on the head and held out her fingers as if measuring.  “Yes, it’s already two inches bigger than it was.  Quick, someone get a containment unit before it explodes!”

       Joe reached out and lightly batted his sister on the arm.  She gave a mock cry of protest and buried her head in Connor’s shoulder.

       “He’s a beast, Connor, a total beast!  See what I have to put up with?  I want you to challenge him to a dual and defend my honor!” Mandy declared to her boyfriend.

       Connor raised an eyebrow at that then turned to Joe.

       “I do decla-uh, suh, that you have offended the honah of my Lady so you and I shall have to have it,” he used one of the fake menus to lightly slap Joe on the cheek.  “We shall meet at the dawn and battle a deadly battle that shall not end until one of us is on the ground!  As the challenge-ee, you get choice of weapons.  I do fea-uh, howevah, that there is no weapon that you can use that shall bring a personage such as yourself up to my level of expertise.”

       Connor ended with his arms spread out wide and he stood on the seat of the booth to give each of his listeners a bow.  Everyone burst out laughing and Connor ended with a kiss on Mandy’s cheek.  Joe smirked as Connor settled himself back into his seat.

       “Oh, I say,” Joe cut-up in a fake English accent.  “Good show, old sport.  Jolly good show of bravery, old bean.  I didn’t know you had it in you.”

       “Oh, believe me,” Frank shook his head.  “I knew he had it in him.  Trust me, live with the man for a year and you’ll learn all of his bad… habits.”

       “Bad habits?” Connor protested.  “I’m the epitome of good habits.  I clean up after myself, I make my bed, I don’t smell up the room and I don’t boom loud music at two am.  What more does any man want in a roommate?”

       “Sounds almost perfect,” Mandy dreamily gazed up at her boyfriend.  “Do you do the dishes too?”

       “Sorry, love,” Connor grinned back at her.  “I have to draw the line somewhere!”

       They spent the next several minutes going over class schedules and deciding who would help Frank when.  Thursdays tended to be Frank’s busiest days, with an extra computer lab session and a turn in the chem. lab for his class.  They worked through a rough plan, with back-ups.  Joe realized in that instant he wanted things back to normal, his brother seeing and all of them being able to live their lives the way they always planned.  He leaned back for a moment and listened to the others talk, watching Frank as he withdrew, ever so slightly, from the activities at hand. 

       Joe sighed, a motion noticed by his girlfriend.  Vanessa put an arm around his shoulders again and hugged him, and rested her head on his shoulder.  He held her for a moment, enjoying the honeysuckle scent of her hair and listening to the popcorn crunching in her mouth.  He still watched his brother, who was gazing out at whatever he really saw.  Blackness?  Nothing?  His loss had been complete, leaving him without the ability to distinguish day and night, as some sight-impaired people could do.  Joe wondered if that sometimes disoriented his brother.

       “Oh yeah,” Joe said, suddenly, remembering that he had picked up something for his brother earlier.  He reached down and pulled out his backpack and pulled out a small box.  He put the box in Frank’s hands.

       “I bought this for you earlier,” Joe told him.  “Open it and I’ll tell you what it is.”

       Frank fumbled the box in his fingers for a few minutes as he tried to find out how it opened and then opened it.  He finally pulled the top off of it and dumped the contents upside down into his hand.  Frank pulled off the bubble-wrap next.

       “Press the button along the front.  Turn it over, you have it upside down,” Joe told him.

       Frank did as he was told and felt along the front until he came to the button in question.  He pushed it firmly.

       “The time is… 10:47… pm.”

       “It’s a talking clock!” Frank said, excited.  “Where did you find it?”

       “They had them in a gadget store at the mall.  ‘Nessa and I went there earlier, after that whole run-in with the gangbangers and I thought it would help you keep track of the time.  I got the small one so you could carry it in your bag.”

       Frank grinned as he pressed the button on the clock again.

       “The time is… 10:48… pm.”

       Everyone else laughed then and Frank slid the clock into his front pocket of his shirt.  It bulged out a little but he looked pleased. 

       “That’s been one of the worst things,” Frank admitted to his friends.  “I wake up sometimes at night and I have no idea what the time is, if it’s day or night, if it’s light out or not and I never know what the time is.  I know when I wake up because the alarm clock goes off and even then I have to rely on Connor setting it for me.  That and you always feel like you’ve lost control.”

       Joe looked at the others.  They were all gazing sympathetically at Frank, though Frank could not see their faces.  Joe reached out and touched his brother’s hand and gave it a squeeze.  He had never been the touchy sort of person growing up, beyond the occasional affectionate noogie on the head and the occasional bear hug.  That changed too, because of the classes he had taken with the rest of his family and friends on how to help Frank.  One of the things the instructor had told them was that some actions had to be put into a touch, rather than facial expressions. 

       “Anyway,” Frank continued a moment later.  “I have a bit of a headache, so, I think I’m ready to go back to the dorm.  Can we walk you ladies home?”

       The moment was broken by Frank’s light-hearted laugh and everyone began to gather their belongings and to clean up the table.  Frank walked silently along with Samantha, their arms wrapped about each other, rather than Samantha leading.  In a crowd like this, Frank could almost follow along by feel rather than having to be led.  He and Samantha were so intent on each other that Joe doubted either would have noticed a semi in their way.

       Joe turned his attention back to his own girlfriend.  He was glad he had outgrown that urge to chase any girl who looked halfway decent or wore a skirt and settled on making a relationship with Vanessa work.  He had settled during his last semester in high school and, while he still enjoyed occasionally looking at another girl, he never did more than that.  Vanessa, who stuck by him through any dimwitted thing that he did, was the girl for him all the way.  He liked holding her hand when they walked, liked seeing her smile when he bought her a present, liked how she got a small dimple in one cheek when she smiled really big or how she looked when she felt serious.  He had been very glad when Vanessa decided to attend college in Bayport, rather than attend a school far away, like Callie had. 

       Not that Frank seemed to regret Callie going so far away.  Not after meeting Samantha the second month of their freshman year in a mutual class they had together.  Joe was glad Frank had met someone else.  Joe sort of always liked Callie but not in the way he really liked Samantha. 

       They kissed the girls good-bye at the front door of Eldridge Hall before they turned to walk back to the boys gathered together to walk back to their dorm.  Joe enjoyed the camaraderie between them all as they walked along the pathways, taking the back path to avoid the construction zone in the quad, to get to their dorm.  He walked with Frank’s hand on his shoulder, Connor standing to one side, Chet to the other.

       “Tomorrow is going to be hell,” Connor noted a moment later as he stretched.  “Did you hear what Coach is making us do tomorrow, Joe?”

       Joe groaned.  “I’d been trying to forget.”

       “What’s he making you do that’s so distasteful?” Frank asked, curiously.

       “Line drills,” Joe said.  “In full gear.  I’ll be lucky if I can crawl home when that’s done.”

       “You’re in sorry shape if you let a mere two hours of line drills collapse you,” Connor rebuked his friend.  “Sorry shape indeed, old son.  I think we’ll just go rent you a wheelchair right now, feeble one.”

       Joe lunged at Connor and they both indulged in a few minutes of horseplay before they finished their walk to the dorm.  Frank had slid his sunglasses off and looked in the direction that he hoped Chet was standing to flash his ‘children will play, won’t they?’ look. 

       “Death to you, MacKenzie!” Joe hollered out a moment later. 

       “Ha, the day I let a Hardy best me…!” Connor hollered back.

       “You know you’ll never win,” Joe told him.  “Surrender!”

       “Never!”

       “You will!”

       “I won’t! You will!”

       “Never!”

       Joe released Connor reluctantly and then grinned and helped his friend to his feet.  So it had been a draw.  Good enough.  Joe chuckled as he took Frank’s hand again. 

       “You two are incorrigible,” Frank told them both with a shake of his head.  “Completely.  I swear, you’re like overgrown two-year-olds.”
       “Ah, a little friendly scuffling never hurt anyone,” Joe said.  “Or not bad enough that you’d notice it anyway.”

       Frank chuckled.  “I remember a few ‘friendly scuffles’ we got into when we were kids, Joe.  And I remember you screaming bloody murder almost every time.”

       “That, my dear older brother, is slander!” Joe informed his brother.  “I never screamed bloody murder.”

       “Oh, then what do you call screaming for mom at the top of your lungs?” Frank asked him in a bland tone.  “An affectionate call or something?”

       “It never happened!” Joe exclaimed.  “Never.  I swear!  I vow on the head of the nearest redhead that it never happened that way.  No, the way I remember it, it was a certain older brother of mine who did all of the yelling.”

       “Outright lies,” Frank shook his head in remorse.  “My own baby brother’s mind is so addled, he forgets the truth.  I swear on the head of the nearest redhead that what I say is the truth!”

       “Hey, leave me out of this!” Connor protested.  “You can swear on someone else’s head but I’m not getting in the middle of the Hardys reliving their past!”

       They all laughed and continued their walk to their dorm.

      

       The good-natured bantering continued as they walked up into the dorm and quieted down as they got inside.  They separated at Frank and Connor’s room, with Chet stopping partway down the hall and Joe continuing down to the other end and his room.  Joe stood out in the hall until Connor and Frank disappeared into their room and then opened his own door and went in to hear his roommate already sawing many logs.  It would figure he was stuck with a snorer.  

       Joe sighed and slowly changed into his pajama bottoms that he liked to wear to bed and tucked his shoes off into his closet.  He went over to his desk and turned his lamp onto its lowest setting.  He started in on his English 2001 assignment, too restless to try and go to sleep yet.  The happenings in Miller’s “The Death of a Salesman” were enough to make him start yawning by the time he was through the first scene.  God, what a whiner, he thought, not for the first time.  Death is too good for him.

       Joe switched over to something only slightly more stimulating, his College Algebra homework for the next day.  The math assignments went fairly easily for Joe; he had always liked math in High School.  English, on the other hand, bored him to tears.  He would rather solve a complex mathematical equation any day. 

       He must have fallen asleep while he was reading because he woke up some time later to the feel of something sharp against his throat and a voice hissing in his ear,

       “Make one false move, Hardy, and you’re dead!”

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. I've only borrowed them to play with for a while but I promise to return them whenever I've finished with them.  (I make no promises as to condition, that's entirely up to them).  I promise, I'm only writing for fun and I'm not making a single dime off of this (unless you count personal fulfillment).