Psychedelic Hollow

itsmeocean@hotmail.com

Chapter 7

"You don't have to be so flustered." Nancy rapped on Frank's bathroom door, rather entertained by Frank's antics. The moment he woke up, he stared at her like she was some angel of death for a few seconds before muttering a croak that sounded vaguely like 'hello'. Then, face red and flustered, he dashed for his bathroom. She knew exactly what he was afraid of and he needn't worry about a thing since she wasn't bothered at all, "It isn't like I haven't seen everything before…"

Laughing softly in amusement, she froze for an instant when, suddenly, she became aware of the silence inside the bathroom when it sounded like a monkey was raiding through it just a few seconds ago. Her earlier words replayed in her head in a tone that was anything but jesting.

Realizing how he might have interpreted what she said, she cleared her throat, almost as awkward as he was.

"C'mon, Frank.… I'm sorry…It didn't come out the way I wanted… I didn't mean to…"

"It's all right…" Frank hastily emerged out from his bathroom, with dripping hair, wet face and a rumpled bathrobe that messily offered some sort of decency, "What brings you here and how did you get in?"

"I called you this morning. Joe picked up the phone and he seemed to be in some hurry. Just gushed about Justin disappearing and how his daughter needed him. I had your invitation card with me, checked the return address and found my way here. Knocked a few times, tried the lock and then, whoala! Your door opened. When I stepped into the house, you were mumbling in your sleep, looking pretty disturbed so I thought I'll just wake you up. Don't worry. My eyes never traveled below your waist."

He blushed, knocking his forehead with his fist, "I'm going to kill that forgetful nut. He must have just left the door open."

"Not 'open'. Unlocked." She corrected him and suddenly, a mental image caused her to break into soft giggles, dissolving all the discomfiture of just now. "If it was opened, you may have died of embarrassment now."

"Huh?"

"Your neighbors will be crowding outside, looking in on you."

"Oh…" Frank's eyes hooded with anxiety of what could have been had Joe been more reckless in his unintentional sabotage, "That's a scary thought… thank goodness it's only you then."

"Right. I'll always remember what you told me before. When your basement's flooded, be thankful it's not your attic."

"Drew… do you have to rub it in again?" He scowled at her and she punched his forearm playfully.

"I'm sorry… I won't tell." She swiped her right index finger straight across her lips, "Zipped."

He smiled crookedly, cheeks still flushed from the embarrassment, "Want coffee?"

Coffee. That was the second cup of coffee she was sipping for the day though the one she had at Frank's apartment was way tastier because of the person who prepared it for her. Frank didn't touched his though, he merely surreptitiously observed the maid who scuttled away to one corner and stood still with her head bowed down. Then, Nancy watched as his keen eyes gave the living room of the bungalow a once over, again. She recognized that habit of his- Frank was already sizing up Marcie Brown before he even met her, preparing himself for the kind of woman that he might have to face off.

The drive to Brown's Villa had been casual, in fact, too casual. Somehow, the imminence of friendship and something more which she felt they connected on when she was in apartment just vanished as time passed until she wondered if she had imagined it or worse, the connection  was only her wishful thinking.

Throughout the ride, they bantered and joked about current affairs, politicians and life in general, something they often did when they strolled hand-in-hand in Central Park, giving new meaning to the term, 'guilty pleasures'. This time though, the chasm between the both of them was wide enough to swallow a herd of elephants and the inane rattles only served to accentuate the metaphysical distance. He did ask her for an update on her life during the drive but she merely managed to voice a weak, "All right" before changing the topic to something that she couldn't even recall.

"She's going to be difficult." Frank said finally, picking up the delicate china cup from its equally exquisite saucer. "Whatever it is, don't be intimidated."

"I am never intimidated, Frank Hardy." Nancy drawled wryly a split second before she realized that Frank was actually reminding himself, not cautioning her. Frank gazed at her oddly before his eyes twinkled along with that smile of his- the smile that had set the slow dismiss of her relationship with Ned in motion.

"Never said you were. Terrible place to be living in. I can almost smell the stench of overprotective control."

"Now, someone's getting judgmental."

"Not judgmental. I'm only voicing my thoughts. I can always be extremely wrong. But our living space is often a reflection of ourselves- either we are exactly like our rooms appear to be or the opposite, which means we are born liars, lying to ourselves even when we are in the most intimate and private space we have."

Nancy swept her eyes across the room and sniffed the stench that Frank was speaking about. The furniture was formal and carefully placed- the neatness gave rise to an overbearing emptiness. This seemed to be a woman who was very cautious of appearances- nothing was out of place. Awards, trophies as well as gorgeous classical artworks were prominently displayed, definitely meant to impressed, not for critiques. Her servants spoke in low tones and were too eager to please, almost afraid of offending.

This place was house but its overwhelming hollowness caused it to fall miles away from being a home.

When Marcie Brown arrived into the hall from upstairs with her shifty, skinny son ambling behind her dourly, Nancy knew at once at Frank was very right. Her black hair was pulled back into a severe bun, elongating harsh, gray eyes and highlighting those jutting, stern cheekbones. Dressed in a black, immaculately pressed power suit, she appeared more like a draconian director attending a board meeting than someone welcoming guests.

In stark contrast, Colin Brown was an ordinary looking boy with the same look of angst mirrored from Justin Daye- reeking of the same miasma of waste as well. His oversized t-shirt was dirty with the stain of oil and grease, most likely from working on cars or motorcycles. Lackluster brown hair curtained his eyes and he swiped at his fringe occasionally.

If Nancy was to guess, she would never, in a million years, think of the both of them as mother and son. The only similarity they had was the same condescending glint in both their steel eyes.

"My apologies for keeping you waiting." Marcie Brown shook Frank's extended hand when he stood up to greet her. Nancy stood up as well, giving Marcie hand a firm shake when she acknowledged her. Colin simply grunted and slumped down onto a velvet armchair furthest way from them. When Marcie turned around, Colin sat up straighter immediately but the moment Marcie looked away, Nancy saw Colin scowling at his mother with positively lethal eyes. There was no evidence of love lost between mother and son.

"No worries. I'm just honored that you could see us at such sudden notice." Frank sat down only after Marcie took her place on the settee opposite them though Nancy was long settled on the couch, having no patience for such pandering. "I'm Frank Hardy, Private Investigator."

"And I'm Nancy Drew, FBI."

"I know. If it had only been you, Mr. Hardy, I wouldn't have brush aside my carefully laid out schedule." Marcie stated casually, no doubt aiming that little tidbit straight for Frank's heart with the intent to crush his confidence. However, Frank wasn't daunted. He merely smiled and sipped some coffee, brushing the comment aside as he would a fly. With a side glance, Nancy caught Colin smirking in that corner of his and her intuition informed her that he might be sneering at his own mother, rather than Frank.

"She's always a busy woman. But of course, she can't wait to find out what her vagabond son is up to, again." The young man yawned, looking bored until Marcie narrowed her deadly eyes at him and he stiffened again. The dynamics between the two intrigued Nancy- Colin would take as many pot shots as he could at his mother but the moment Marcie showed any signs of anger, Colin would cower.

And yet, he would muster up more guts to start the cycle all over again.

"Colin here loves to spout nonsense. Of course he wouldn't have broken any laws, would he? And I do hope this meeting will be short. I'm preparing to fly off to meet my elder boy who's studying in Princeton."

"Next, she will be telling you about my sister who's heading our family's business in Asia."

"Colin! That's enough! Will you be a dear and just speak when spoken to?" Marcie's tone swung violently from admonishment to saccharinely sweet. He bristled and sank into the seat, almost disappearing into the shadows. "Good. Now, what brings the both of you here?"

"Actually, we want to ask Colin some questions, we have made it quite clear to the servants…" Nancy exchanged a quick look with Frank who nodded. He wanted some time alone to interview Colin as well. Marcie wasn't about to let her son talk much.

"As you can see, my son is rather inept at making conversation. You can speak to me. I know him and his movements very well. I can answer all your questions." Marcie smiled at them mirthlessly, "Carry on."

There was a pause but before Nancy could speak, Frank beat her to it. "A client of mine, Justin Daye, is missing. Since he's a good friend of yours, Colin, we will to ask if you have any idea where he can be."

She marveled at how naturally Frank addressed Colin instead of Marcie, causing Marcie to be quite infuriated. The dragon lady threw her son a cautionary look but no one missed the immediate concern softening the young man's features.

"Do you know anyone called Justin Daye, Colin?" Marcie asked her son poisonously sweetly, her tone laced with powdered arsenic.

Colin glanced flittingly at Frank and Nancy before casting his eyes onto the floor, "No, mom."

"He doesn't know the person you're talking about. You must have gotten the wrong person. Colin Brown is a very common name."

"We are aware of that. We are also aware from reliable sources that we haven't got the wrong guy. Colin, Justin may be in big trouble here. If you are worried about your best friend, you can do no wrong by helping us." Nancy looked at Colin earnestly but it was clear that even though he was displaying nuances of defiance, he wasn't going to disobey Marcie on this point.

"I don't know Justin."

"Justin's life may be in danger." Frank persisted, "You do know Justin, why don't you help us bring him to safety?"

"My son has time and time again told you that he doesn't know Justin Whoever. Now, if you may, please leave." Marcie waved at the frightened maid, "Show the guests out, Annie."

"Yes, Madam."

"Your time is up, detectives. I wish you good day. Come, Colin. Help mommy pick an outfit to meet your brother." She stood up and Colin followed her. However, as he climbed up the stairs, he asked his mother loudly, as if broadcasting what he was querying to the departing guests as well.

"Mom! Did you read the obituaries yesterday?"

"No… why will I do that for?" Marcie replied irritably.

"Oh…" Colin shrugged, tucking his long fringe behind his ears. The servant, Annie, had already opened the front door and was ushering them out but Frank held onto Nancy's hand, nodding at the exchange between the mother and son. The both of them loitered around the vestibule, listening closely, much to the servant's disquiet.


"I just thought maybe one of our relatives in Port City died or something."

"You're out of your mind. We have no relatives in Port City."

"That's what I thought so too, mom. You're absolutely right, as usual." Colin responded smoothly, glancing over his shoulder at Frank and Nancy lazily.

But the flash in his eyes told them the banter was anything but idle chatter.

***

The morning sun was piercing into Joe's eyes and though he was awake, he wasn't feeling like he had a fantastic rest. Waking up with the lingering ghost of Iola coiling in his mind from a dream he couldn't remember, he was baffled as to why he would suddenly re-visit a history that he had already moved on from, despite thinking back on it once in a while with poignancy.

However, the call from his daughter had all but exiled those wordless questions to the back of his mind. Hallie woke up and, seeing that he was not at home, worked herself up in a state of panic and phoned him, urging him to 'go home' and 'be with her'.

Rocking the porch swing gently, he flipped the page over and was heartened to find those famous last words of those ageless tales, "And they lived happily ever after." Amen! Finally!

"Daddy…" Hallie snuggled closer to him and dropped her head on his forearm, "Snow White's pretty stupid."

He tucked the book into a corner of the porch swing and draped an arm across her small shoulders, "Why?"

"Because she was dumb to have fallen for the same trick thrice." Hallie pulled her lips tightly and wrinkled her nose, "Her mommy and daddy must have never taught her that she cannot open the door to strangers or accept anything from someone she doesn't know."

Arching a brow at his daughter who sounded rather precocious that morning, he thought over her logic and was pretty proud of her to have such opinions. The simple story took almost two hours to finish reading because throughout, Hallie was interrupting him with questions that he had asked himself when young but never found satisfying answers. And if the last comment she made wasn't a perfect lead for him to start guiding her about the darker side of life- a side in which she was thrown into in the very worst way- he didn't know what was.

Daddy, how can an apple be half green and half red? And how did the stepmother cut the apple in half, put the poison in one side and then put it together again? Wouldn't the poison spread?

"Maybe her parents taught her but she forgot."

"I know mommy taught me and I never forgot…" Her sweet face shadowed over and she twiddled her thumbs, "Stupid Snow White. First someone came in to strangle her. Then push a comb into her head. Now, she ate a funny looking apple given by an ugly looking witch."

"Hallie, bad people can look very kind and gentle too… maybe the picture got it wrong. Maybe the witch looked kind and gentle, and that's why Snow White thought she can trust her."

"Maybe." Hallie muttered, "Some bad people are bald and have beady eyes too."

Joe felt a stirring of emotions strangling his chest, emotions which had been swept under broken glass. Richard Thompson. The bastard kidnapped Hallie and shot his gut. Because of that, Hallie would always have a demon lurking behind her- sometimes it would lie sleeping, sometimes it would hover quietly. But it was always there and its presence loomed over the innocent glow of her golden hair menacingly. He could only pray that, one day, Hallie would find the strength to turn around and grabbed it by its neck to show it who was boss. And he would teach her how- he would stand by her side and fight it with her the moment she was ready. For now, he would have to fend it off whenever it decided to come out and wreck havoc on a young girl's soul.

But Richard Thompson wasn't the only monster- Greg Bunhill, Vanessa's second husband and her daddy Greg, had masterminded the act of utmost evil. And Hallie trusted him- she couldn't understand why Vanessa and Joe just told her that Greg did something bad and had to be put away in jail. She couldn't understand why Vanessa told her that if she ever saw Greg, she must never follow him or have anything to do with him.

She couldn't understand but her questions were left unanswered. "Until she's older…" Vanessa had implored Joe, "Right now, let's just tell her that he is a bad person."

Pulling his daughter in closer, he kissed the top of her head and banished those fears away- those doubts that taunted him and made him obsessed over the horror that he had failed as a father and would always be defeated by his own monsters.

"Don't be afraid, sweetheart. Daddy's here…" He tilted her chin up so that her watery orbs were looking straight into his. "I will take care of you, forever."

"Daddy, I'm sorry I was so naughty yesterday." Hallie threw her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his chest, "You won't be like mommy? You won't just leave me? I woke up today and Grandma said you're not in. I'm scared..."

"I will never leave you, sweetie." Joe spoke, gazing into her eyes, his promise crafted from the flesh of his heart and christened with every single drop of blood in his body, "Never."

"I'll never leave you too, daddy. I wanna always be daddy's little girl." Hallie smiled at him, her cute little milk teeth white and gleaming, "I don't wanna go to any stinky schools or make stinky friends. I'll always stay at home with daddy and daddy stay at home with me."

"Hallie, who taught you to use the word 'stinky'?" Joe pinched her nose lightly, "And schools are not stinky… neither are friends."

"Well, they are if they don't bathe! I heard Grandpa saying the thief in the movie is a 'stinky' S.O.B. Why can't he just say 'sob'? Why must he spell it out? He can't pro… pronounce 'sob'.?"

Joe didn't know if he should laugh or cry but he made it a point to tell Fenton to try and curb his passions when watching those cops drama that could always set his blood pumping with vivid memories. "Hallie, don't ever say, 'S.O.B', okay? It's something that will make people think you're someone who isn't educated right and you'll be hurting whoever you say it to."

"So I can't say that I'm 'sobbing'? I must say I'm 'crying'?"

"No… 'S.O.B' and 'sob' are different."

"How different?"

"Different…"

"But they are spelt the same!" Hallie persisted, clutching the material of his t-shirt which, as he didn't bathe since reaching home, was rather 'stinky'. "S.O.B! 'Sob'!"

"Hmm… Hallie, S.O.B is a bad word… people who don't know better use it to insult other people's mothers."

"Why would they do that? You mean 'sob' is a bad word? Like 'crap'?"

"No, no… sob is sob, S.O.B is S.O.B. And who taught you 'crap'?'" Joe was fairly aghast right now. Fenton must have been sitting on the couch for too long and thus, had the time to think of the most ingenious ways to torment him for running away seven years ago.

"I dunno. I heard you say it quite often. I was saying it when Grandma beat my hand and scolded me, saying it's a bad word. But it means the same as poo poo. Why is poo poo bad? Everyone poo poos."

Oh, it's me this time. Darn!

"It's not bad… it's the way you use it…" Joe scrambled his brains for a better explanation, "It's when you use it to voice your frustration, to scold other people and alike, then it's a bad word."

"Daddy… what is frus… frustr…" Hallie frowned, unable to catch the enunciation yet, "…frustion?"

"Ahm…" Joe was never too good with explaining vocabulary and he regretted not bringing a dictionary out, "Like… your chest feels tight and you're angry at something and can't do a thing about it… hmm…" His phone vibrated in his jeans' pocket then and, thanking heavens for the distraction, he planted a quick kiss on her forehead before retrieving the cell, "Hang on darling..." He glanced at the caller ID, "It's your uncle."

"No! It's a phone." Hallie pushed away from him and pouted, folding her arms angrily.

"Okay, it's your uncle calling me." Joe shook his head and pressed the 'Call' button, "Hey, Frank. Sorry, I didn't tell you that I had something urgent and important to do at home so I left early…" He tussled his daughter's hair as he spoke, "Hope you had a great sleep!"

"Great sleep your fat head! You left my door unlocked and Nancy made her own way in." Frank hissed, as if afraid someone near would hear him, "She saw me in my boxers and only my boxers!"

"Hmm… interesting…" Joe smiled wickedly, "Did she have a camera with her?"

"Joe! I couldn't have been robbed! Or someone could have, as you put it, come by with a camera, take pictures of me and put them up on the internet or something!"

At times, Frank imagination could really go all wild. Joe giggled and couldn't help the next remark, Frank did kind of asked for it, "If that someone has no taste… then... that's a possibility. Face it bro… Frank Hardy in a pair of boxers is nothing like Joe Hardy in a pair of boxers…"

"Daddy… how can you be in a pair of boxers? What if they box you?" Hallie shook his arm and Joe realized his slip. He grinned at her goofily.

"Ahm, then I'll kick them. Hallie, I'm talking to your uncle… so… later, all right?"

Hallie glared at him before jumping off the swing to stalk into the house.

"See…bro… now my precious' mad at me."

"Ha! It's your fault. Anyway, there's nothing wrong with letting her know what's a pair of boxers…"

"Maybe when she's older." Joe scratched his neck, feeling the birth of a pimple on the back and rubbed at it with some annoyance, "So, boss, what do we do today?"

"I know where Justin may be. Read the obituary?"

He remembered the dream and the thoughts of Iola. The water dam broke and a knowledge that he already had started to dawn on him- he began to understand the mystery that his heart had already unraveled.

That's it!

"He went to visit Kimberly's grave in Port City!" Joe exclaimed before feeling a stab of pity for the poor kid, "He missed her funeral though."

"Bingo! How did you guess?"

He leaned against the swing and rocked it gently, pushing his feet against the ground to propel it into motion, "I didn't need to guess. Let me go and find him, bro. You know as well as I do that I'm probably the best person to handle this."

There was silence on the other end and he could almost see the sadly sweet smile on Frank's lips. He didn't need to even question if Frank understood- somehow, he knew his brother's thoughts were in sync with his.

"Right, kiddo. I'll bring Nancy to Conrad's place and we'll wait for you there. Don't exert yourself, all right?"

"Right, Nanny. I better get going then…"

"Take care, little bro."

Joe jumped off the swing and stretched himself, grinning widely, "Sure, bro…"

I'll bring Nancy to Conrad's place…

"Frank? Have you given Callie a call yet?"

"No, why?"

Joe scrunched his face, torn between trusting his brother to know what he was doing and yet, worrying for the toll Nancy's presence could be taking on Frank's devoted fidelity to Callie. "Oh, nothing. Ahm, she's a girl after all, with you working on case… you know… she may miss you."

Frank let out a soft laugh, "I get what you mean. Thank, bro, for the reminder and for being so subtle about it."

"Anytime, Nanny…" Joe repeated the new pet name he had for Frank with increasing attachment, "Anytime."

A few minutes later, after he changed into a fresh shirt and checked in on his daughter who was still sulking in the living room, busy crossing out the cartoons on her coloring book with angry red streaks, he sighed and wished, for once, that he didn't have a case. Yet, without a case, he would not be paid and there would no money to buy a tarantula thus he walked over to her and kissed her goodbye.

"Aren't you going to kiss daddy back?"

She shook her head and he sighed, leaving the house with a heavy heart as duty called.

Rolling his Land Rover out of the driveway, he was about to wind up the windows when suddenly, he caught Hallie dashing out of the house from his rear view mirror. He glanced behind and saw his daughter standing in front of the porch, waving at him vigorously.

"I love you, daddy!"

These are the moments I live for. She is who I live for.

Smiling, he swiped a tear away from his eye as he unbuckled his seat belt and exit the car. Running as if his life depended on speed, he grabbed his squealing daughter and planted uncountable kisses all over her sweet face.

And this... He thought as he looked at her- her cheeks were smudged with crayon and her dress all grimy already, This is love.

My love.