A/N: I took some poetic license in this story. I know some of the things that happen are not possible (I watched the episode of Mythbusters about it) but I wrote this story before the term RESEARCH had entered my vocabulary. As this story is several years old and I do not feel like modifying it any further, I stick to my "poetic license" theory. If you have a problem with me making the impossible happen, talk to my people. :)

A Day Off

Chapter Fourteen

Frank awoke the morning after the funeral, feeling more depressed than he had ever been in his life. At first, he couldn't remember why he was feeling so grief-stricken. But then it all came back to him...the gunshot...the hospital...the funeral...Joe...gone...

Blinking back tears, Frank forced himself out of bed and got dressed. He was about to go downstairs when he heard a strange noise coming from Joe's room. He quietly walked through the bedroom that connected the boys' rooms. As he came to the door and peered in, he realized the noise was his mother sobbing.

She was sitting on Joe's bed, holding his pillow, the one he had rested his head on so many times in his life, rocking back and forth. Frank wanted to go in, comfort her, but he couldn't bring himself to do anything. He himself was so full of grief that he knew any attempts to console anyone else would be pointless.

He spun around and raced down the stairs, where his father was sitting at the kitchen table. "Good morning, son," he said. His eyes were red from crying and his voice was strained. All color and life seemed to have drained out of his usually animated face.

Without replying, Frank grabbed his jacket and said, "I'm going for a walk."

Fenton consented with a slight nod of his head. He didn't even bother to inquire as to where Frank was going. He already knew.

Frank started down the street, head down and his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. Memories flashed through his mind; all the great times he and Joe had shared. All the dangers they had faced. Frank had always known, deep down, that danger might kill one of them someday...but not this soon...not now...and not Joe.

Frank had always been the overly protective brother. A slight smile began to form as he recalled all the times Joe would whine about how annoying he was.

The smile faded away as quickly as it had formed. I suppose I wasn't as protective as I should have been, Frank thought.

He knew that there really was nothing he could have done, but still, he felt like it was his fault that Joe was gone.

Frank was pulled from his thoughts as he reached the entrance to the graveyard. He silently made his way to his brother's grave. Tears pouring down his face, he knelt beside the place where Joe was buried. "I'm so sorry, little brother," he whispered. "I love you."

"Hey." Frank spun around, only to see Biff Hooper and Chet Morton standing behind him.

"Hi," Frank responded, keeping his eyes trained on the ground.

"Man, we're so sorry this happened," Biff said, his voice breaking. "Joe was—Joe was an amazing person. And he was lucky to have a brother like you. Man, you gave him the best years of his life. You were always there for him when it counted—even when it didn't count."

Frank stared at him, unsure of what to say.

"We kind of heard what you just said," Chet admitted, his chubby face turning a light shade of pink. "But c'mon, Frank, don't blame yourself."

"I just—I just can't believe that he's really gone," Frank muttered, staring at the headstone, which read:

Joe Hardy

Died age 17

Ace Detective

Amazing Friend

Loving Son

Incredible Brother

Rest in Peace

"I know, Frank, it's so wrong," Chet agreed. "I remember when Iola died." He paused, stealing a look at Frank. "But—maybe now they're finally together."

This was too much for Frank. Not caring if his friends saw, he fell to his knees and sobbed. All of a sudden, he sat up straight, listening.

"Frank, what is it?" Biff asked a bit hesitantly. It was amazing to see Frank break down like that. Frank was always so cool, calm, and level-headed. But he knew how close Frank and Joe had been. It was understandable.

Frank whipped around, tears still shining on his face. "Shhh!" he hissed. "D'ya hear that?"

Chet and Biff looked at each other and shrugged.

"I heard a knocking sound!" Frank said.

Suddenly, they heard it. A knocking sound, faint at first, but growing louder by the second.

"Where's it coming from?" Biff asked in amazement.

Frank put his head to the ground and then lifted it back up. "I know this sounds impossible," he said slowly, hardly daring himself to believe it, "but it sounds like it's coming from Joe's grave."

"Maybe it's a ghost!" Chet squealed, glancing nervously around him.

"Stop being ridiculous!" Biff spat. "Even if ghosts were real, then do you really think Joe's ghost would want to hurt us? We were his friends, remember?"

Frank was ignoring the entire conversation, his heart pounding madly. The knocking noises were growing fainter. But they were still there. And now he was positive they were coming from Joe's grave.

"Guys!" Frank yelled, sprinting up so fast that they jumped.

"Don't do that," Chet complained. "You nearly gave me a heart attack—oops," he said, looking at Frank apologetically.

"Guys, I know this sounds impossible, but that noise is coming from Joe's grave!"

"Are you trying to suggest that he's alive?" Biff said uncertainly. "That's impossible."

"I know. But there's something down there that's knocking. And we're gonna find out what it is. Chet, you go get Chief Collig. Tell him to bring some men down to the graveyard. Biff, you grab the grave diggers and call the paramedics—just in case. I'm getting Mom and Dad. There's something down there. Something alive. And I won't rest until I find out what it is."

"Okay, people, this is it!" said Chief Collig. Fenton, Laura, Frank, and Gertrude were all gathered around Joe's coffin, which the grave diggers had just hauled out of the ground. "We don't know what is in here with the body that is making these knocking noises—which, by the way, have ceased to exist—but let's not get our hopes up. We were all there. We attended the funeral. We saw the body. Joe is not alive."

Laura started to cry, clinging to Fenton's arm for support.

The grave diggers slowly, systematically, began to remove the nails from the lid. Then they pulled open the lid.

Hearts pounding, the audience peered into the coffin. Nothing, save for the body.

"Maybe I was imagining things," Frank said, staring at the unmoving form of his brother. Tears began to roll down his cheeks.

Just as the diggers were about to nail the lid back on, Frank yelled for them to stop.

"What is it?" Collig said.

"Look!" Frank breathed. Everyone sucked in their breath.

Joe's hand shifted, just a few centimeters. A low moan escaped his lips. Then those sapphire eyes fluttered open. Looking up, he saw his family around him. "Frank?" he whispered.

Frank stood astounded. He didn't know how it was possible, but Joe was alive!

~Emachinescat ^..^