After that weekend, the tentative truce returned between Joey and Frank. Joey didn't pester Frank so often, and in turn, Frank was more tolerant of the boy. He even had a lot of fun with him sometimes. And as Laura and Fenton were both making an effort not to make Frank feel pushed out, and still make Joey a welcome member of the family, Frank did not resent the younger boy so much. In fact, as summer gave way to autumn, and the weeks once again went by, Frank hardly ever felt anger towards his new brother. Once the jealousy began to fade, Frank could begin to enjoy having a little brother to protect.
The the truce strengthened.
For the most part, the Hardys were finding the people of Bayport to be quite nice and welcoming. There were some that were rude, some that would tease Frank or Joe, but that could not be avoided anywhere in the world. In fact it happened very little with Frank, who was quiet and studious, but still liked playing things like baseball. Joey tended to get a little more flak because he was outspoken and hyperactive...and quite small for his age. People like that were considered easy targets for bullies. What he had to deal with most were kids who said he wasn't a "real" kid, that he was only adopted. He was certainly sick of hearing comparisons with stray dogs and cats! And unfortunately he was getting into more fights than should be necessary.
Fenton suggested that Joey attend the same karate class that Frank had started in three weeks before, to learn to defend himself, but Joey didn't want to; Frank's class was quite traditional, and Joey hadn't the patience for such a class. He said he could take care of himself. Of course he usually lost his fights, but at least he proved he was no coward. That was evident, even at the age of six.
One chilly Saturday, two days before Halloween, Frank and Joey had gone down to the school playground, where there were seven or eight other youngsters making use of the equipment. Frank had gone over to the swings, admonishing Joey not to leave the schoolyard, and spent several moments enjoying the wind in his face. Joey went off into the play tunnels on the other side of the yard, where there were also suspension bridges and tires to climb on. Joey liked to climb.
The boys had been there maybe twenty minutes when Frank heard Joey's voice, sounding very peeved. "He IS TOO my brother, and he is not a wimp! He could beat you guys up!"
"Yeah right!" came another voice, one Frank didn't know. He frowned and began slowing his wide arcs so that he could go investigate. "We'd punch his stupid face in!"
"Yeah, we don't like people who kiss up to the teacher!"
There was a silence for a moment, and then Joey's angry holler, "Don't PUSH me, you turd!" For such a small kid, Joey could certainly yell loudly!
Frank jumped off the swing right as he heard the sound of a fist hitting flesh. He wasn't sure who had punched whom, until he heard Joey yell. Scowling darkly, Frank sprinted to where the uproar was.
When he got behind the play structure, he saw a pair of boys he recognized; one was in his grade, the other was a second-grader. Both were older and bigger than Joey was, and all were rolling around on the ground, fighting. Joey was obviously getting the worst of this fight, though not for lack of trying.
Frank felt something very like fury erupt in his gut at seeing this unfair bit of bullying, and he darted in, grabbing one boy's jacket and flinging him off of the kid-pile. While the first bully was distracted by the sudden intervention, Frank tried the same with the other kid, who was in the process of trying to pound Joey's face. But this one was bigger than Frank, too, and he hadn't the strength. Thwarted, Frank kicked him in the side, using what he had been learning from his martial arts classes.
The second boy, the bigger one, yelled in pain and sprawled in the dirt. Frank pulled Joey to his feet and got between him and the two older boys. Joey was crying, but he also looked angry enough to spit nails.
"Oh look," said the first bully, a contemptuous sneer twisting his young face. "It's the teacher's pet."
"He is NOT the teacher's pet!" came Joey's voice from behind Frank. Frank made a "calm-down" gesture behind him, and Joey quieted, though he continued to fume.
Frank looked back at the two boys. "Real brave, beating up a first-grader."
The boy Frank kicked, the one who was in Frank's class, snorted. "He shouldn't've mouthed off!"
"Mouthed off?" Frank repeated, incredulous. "You guys started it! Why can't you leave him alone? He didn't do anything to you!"
"We don't have to leave him alone," said the younger bully. "You're not my dad, you can't tell me what to do!"
"Yeah," said the older one, as they both advanced. "So why don't you go away before we have to beat you up, too?"
"Try it," Frank invited.
The playground's equipment sat forgotten in the autumn wind, as every child in the yard had come to watch. They were very quiet as the little drama played itself out.
They did, indeed, try it. Frank shoved Joey back and out of the way as the older boy took a swing at Frank. He seemed quite determined to get him back for kicking him, but it was clear he had no training or control over his fighting. He could beat up a small boy, but he couldn't really make much of a match against an intelligent Frank Hardy who had taken karate for three weeks.
Frank blocked the clumsy punch and shoved the boy back. He was trying not to get too violent, not wanting to get into trouble if he could help it. Turned out he didn't need to; before much else happened, an adult's voice called from the other side of the street. Frank recognized him as one of their new neighbors, who lived across the street from them, and he thought his name might be Mr. Taylor. He was walking his greyhound. "Hey!" he called. "What's going on over there?"
Alarmed, the two bullies looked toward the voice, saw it was an adult, and ran.
"I know you guys' names!" Frank called angrily after them as the neighbor headed over to see what was wrong. "An' I'm telling my parents you beat up my brother!"
Mr. Taylor approached, looking concerned. "You're Frank Hardy, aren't you?"
Frank nodded, shaking from anger. But even so, his surprise at the rush of sheer protectiveness he had felt seeing those two older boys beating up his brother pushed through his anger. He disliked seeing anyone being a bully, but did not usually react so severely.
"What happened here?"
Frank looked around, finally noticing his surroundings again; the gray sky, the chilly air, the dog at the end of Mr. Taylor's leash trying to lick his face. He was a bit surprised to see the ring of kids standing around them.
As Frank distractedly pet the greyhound, Joey spoke up, his tone one of the sheerest indignation. "Those jerks were laughing at me an' saying I wasn't really Frank's brother. And they said Frank was a wimp! I said no he wasn't, that he could beat them up an' they pushed me so I pushed them back an' one punched me and it turned into a big fight!"
Frank frowned as he looked at Joey's face. His nose and lip were both bleeding, and it looked like he would have a few bruises. Maybe a black eye.
"I see," said Mr. Taylor. "Do you know their names?"
"I do," said Frank quietly. "Mr. Taylor...I should get my brother home, okay?"
The man nodded. "Of course. Would you like me to walk you home, just in case?"
At this, Frank actually smiled. "That'd be cool...thanks. Those creeps might just get more people an' try to ambush us." He paused a moment, then looked apprehensively up at the man. "You're not gonna try an' get us in trouble, are you?"
At this, the middle-aged man chuckled. "No. I've known your family long enough to know that you're good boys. And I have also seen those two bullying others. And even if that weren't the case, it's not my place to discipline another person's children."
"Oh, good." The fact that an adult had caught him fighting had made him a bit nervous.
Joey, on the other hand, didn't look nervous at all; he looked mad. He kept glaring down the street to where the two boys had run.
As the boys and Mr. Taylor were leaving the play yard, Frank heard one of the boys behind them say to his friend, "I wish I knew those moves!"
Frank turned a bit pink around the cheeks, though with the wind whipping them, he hoped it were not noticeable. However a moment later, when he glanced back down at Joey, the pink in Frank's cheeks deepened to red. And he knew that could not be mistaken for chapped cheeks! Joey no longer looked angry; he was staring at Frank with an expression of the utmost adoration.
When the boys reached their driveway, Frank turned and thanked their neighbor, who waved, and headed back down the street with the dog. What a cool adult, Frank thought. He had only met the man two or three times, but he always seemed like a nice guy. And now Frank knew he was!
To Laura's credit, she did not get angry when she saw Joe come in; she only sighed a bit and knelt on the living room floor to look him over. "Another fight?"
"Yeah, but I didn't start this one," Joey said. "They pushed first!"
"And what happened then?"
"I pushed second," said Joey, as if this were only the most logical thing in the world. "And then he hit me so we got in a big fight."
"Those jerks were both bigger than Joey," seethed Frank. "One's seven, almost eight, and the other's in my class!"
Laura frowned. "Do their parents know they're bullying younger children?"
Frank shook his head. "I dunno. If they do, maybe they don't care. I got them off of Joey but Mr. Taylor came and saw what was going on, so the big chickens ran."
"That's usually how it is with bullies," said Laura. "Do you know their names?"
Frank nodded. "Yes. Well one's whole name, and the other's first name."
"All right. Lemme go get Joey patched up, and I'm going to be making a few phone calls, if I can get anyone at the school."
Frank tagged along as Joey was led upstairs and Laura began gently washing Joey's face with a washcloth. He jerked away a few times, hissing in pain, but he clenched his teeth and put up with the washing. A bit of antiseptic, some soothing gel, and a bandage or two later, and Joey were perfectly cheerful again.
"That was awesome!" Joey said as they followed Laura downstairs. "You were like a ninja! I bet they don't mess with you again!"
Frank, who was blushing again, couldn't help a smile. It really felt good to have a younger child's admiration. "I wasn't that good. But they'd mess with me again. They'd just get a whole bunch of other kids, those chickenguts."
"Yeah!" said Joey, making a fist. "And they ran away when Mr. Taylor came over! What a bunch of chickens!"
When Fenton returned from the errands he was running and heard the story, he commended Joe for defending his brother, and commended Frank for doing the same, and for his self control in not simply pummeling the bullies. "Though, Joey, next time can you do something for me? If they try shoving you, don't shove back, go to an adult and tell them. That way there's no way you can get in trouble."
"I guess so..." said Joey, frowning a bit. Then he added in a warning tone, "But they made me really mad! I can't be held rensponserble for what my body does when my brain's mad!"
Frank stifled a snicker as Fenton blinked, wondering where Joe had picked up that phrase, mangled as it was. "That's understandable," he said after a moment, once the urge to laugh at this dire warning had passed. "Sometimes it's hard to keep your temper. But try, okay?"
Joey nodded agreeably. "Okay."
"By the way," said Laura. "The word you want is 'responsible'."
"Yeah! That too!"
The next day was Sunday, and Frank asked Joey if he wanted to go out and explore the woods behind the house. "Okay!" he said.
"Let's go ask Mom and Dad." As Laura had weekends off, and Fenton was not currently on a case, they were both home that day. After breakfast, Frank asked if he and Joey could go out back and explore.
"Hey, maybe we could have a picnic for lunch!" Joey said. "Can we?"
The two adults exchanged a glance, and Fenton shrugged. "I don't see why not, as long as you take the cell phone" Laura said. "I can pack you a couple of lunches to take with you in a backpack or something."
"And make sure to bring a watch. I'll not want you boys back any later then four," Fenton added. "Okay?"
The boys nodded. "Fair enough!' said Frank with a grin. "There's a really creepy part...north, I think. I'll bring my Boy Scout compass so we don't get lost. Anyways, we might go see if there's any ghosts there."
Joey's eyes got wide. "Ghosts? Really? Do people think there's any there?" he did not sound alarmed, but excited.
Frank nodded. "Some of the kids say there's ghosts and stuff in the woods."
"Awesome! I hope we meet one!"
"Well if you do," said Fenton in all seriousness, "and it's not a friendly one, don't try and fight it on your own. Call us."
Frank nodded. "Okay, we will. I bet we won't see one though."
"You never know." Fenton stood and took his plate, telling his boys that once they had rinsed their dishes and had their lunch that they could go. "Just make sure and dress in some thick jeans and sturdy shoes. There're thorns and ditches out there."
And so promising, the boys grabbed their dishes and bore them into the kitchen.
Frank had said he did not mind wearing the backpack that had their lunches and jackets in it. It was quite warmer than it had been the day before, and so neither of them needed the jackets just yet. Joey had convinced Frank to let him hold the compass, though he had no clue how to use it. Frank, who was learning through Scouts, tried to teach him how it worked and found Joey an apt student. "You'll be a good Cub Scout," said Frank, and was rewarded by Joey's beaming smile.
"Where's the creepy part?" asked Joe.
"North, I saw it when I exploring last week. And I found a great place that would be great for a fort! It's a kinda clearing, and it's got a big stream near it for water. Maybe Dad could help us build a dam there so we could swim in it!"
"That'd be awesome!" Joey agreed enthusiastically. "Maybe we could start getting wood and stuff for our fort!"
"Well it's kinda gettin' cold, we wouldn't have time to get it all finished, and the wood would get all wet and cold and snowy. Let's wait 'til spring. We can plan it though!"
"Cool! Let's make greenprints of it."
Frank giggled. "Blueprints."
"Those too."
After that, the boys were mostly quiet as they trekked along in the autumn woods. They both wore jeans and a flannel shirt; Joe's was bright red, and Frank's was blue and black checked. Frank wore the hiking boots Fenton had gotten him for Scouts, and Joe was wearing sneakers. Frank was glad that Dad had reminded them to wear thick stuff; there were a lot of evil thorns in here!
"Ow!" yelped Joey, scowling at a nearby tree; he had not seen a sharp branch jutting out, and it had struck his bruised face. He kicked it, and was startled by an acorn falling on his head. "Owww!" he repeated, this louder and more accusatory.
Frank turned, his brows raised. "You okay?"
"No, this tree's attacking me!" Joe glowered at the offending tree for a moment then turned to Frank with a grin. "Too bad you can't karate a tree!"
Frank laughed at the mental image that this statement inspired. "Man, that'd be weird. Especially if it karate-ed back!"
"How far is the creepy part?"
"Just up here, I think. Yeah...there! See that big tree? Look how it's all splintered and black. That means it got hit with lightning."
"Really? I bet that hurt. When did it get hit?"
"I don't know. I just know it got hit, because that's what they look like afterwards. And look... Look how all dark it is in there."
Joey peered in, and saw that Frank was right, it really was creepy. The lightning-struck tree marked the beginning of a particularly dark patch of woods caused by a thick canopy above. The foliage was dense, and there was a kind of musty smell within, like something was rotting. "Whoa. Weird."
"And these woods are big," said Frank. "Dad says that here's probably right in the very middle. And not a lot of people come here, either, I dunno why."
"Maybe there's stories about this place! Maybe people went tin an' never came back out!"
"Maybe," said Frank, also glancing into the trees. "You still wanna go?"
"Yeah!"
"Okay. Let's stay together so nothing creepy can get either one of us."
"Okay."
And so the boys crept along in the dingy air, looking here and there for signs of supernatural occurrence. A look of anticipation and mild fear were on both faces, but it was clear they were both enjoying the adventure.
A bit of the anticipation had worn off, however, fifteen minutes into the trek. "Aw, there's no ghosts here," said Joey, sounding highly disappointed.
"Well I dunno how far the creepy part goes," said Frank. "There might be ghosts farther in! If I was a ghost I would wanna be right in the middle, where it's darkest."
"How do you know that's the darkest part?"
"Well, on the edges, all the light from outside gets in, and ghosts don't like light. I don't think, anyways."
"Oh. Well that makes sense. But what if the ghosts are at the store or something?"
Frank snickered. "Ghosts don't go to stores. If they did, they'd get seen all over the place!"
"Well, they could have ghost stores."
Before Frank could ponder this possibility, a commotion in the tree right next to Frank made both boys scream and duck behind a tree. It had sounded like something small struggling in the branches of the tree!
"Wh-what was that?" Joey asked, his blue eyes wide and pale in the dimness.
"I d-dunno," Frank whispered, his eyes on the spot where the noise had come from. "You...You don't think the tree grabbed an animal, do you?"
At this chilling possibility, Frank and Joe both eyed the tree behind which they were hiding. Frank looked around at all of the trees pressing in, realizing that if he were right, and if the trees decided to go for larger prey, that Frank and Joey would be in big trouble. There was nowhere to avoid them!
There was silence for a few short moments, and then a hoarse shriek that made Frank and Joey scream again and clutch each other. Their eyes cut once more to the branches of the tree, where there was a flutter of movement, and then, the rustle of wings. Wings?
All of a sudden, Frank laughed, as he saw what their assailant was. A mangy looking raven had fluttered up angrily from the tree, cawing angrily at something in the branches. A chittering sound answered the raven, and Frank caught glance of a squirrel.
Frank looked down at Joe, and the boys exchanges a sheepish look. "Er, let's go eat lunch, okay?" said Frank.
Joey giggled, still a bit nervous, and nodded. "Okay. But not here, okay?"
"No way, it's still creepy." with a last glance at the retreating raven, Frank took hold of the compass and led them from the darkness.
The relative warmth of the sunshine dappling through the leaves was a great comfort to the spooked boys, and Joey stopped to enjoy it for a few moments. Frank waited for him for a few moments before saying, "Let's go to that one place I told you about, that's got the little river, and the clearing."
"Cool! That's where we're gonna build our fort, right?"
"Yeah! Maybe Dad'll let us make a zoom line from one of the trees down to our fort."
"A zoom line?"
"Yeah! You know, like in the movies, it'd s rope that's got a handle that you hold, and zoom down to the ground."
Joe's eyes widened in recognition. "Oh! Wow, that'd be great! I bet it's better than the slide at the playground."
"I bet it is too. We'd have to get something soft to land in, 'til we can land on our feet."
The fort site was not too far away from the creepy trees; it took only a half our to get there, and by then, both boys were quite hungry. "Let's eat lunch first," said Frank, taking off the backpack and walking over to a big rock sitting in the little clearing. It was quite a wide area of brown and yellow grass, with some rocks and deadwood lying about. The sun shone down on the clearing, making it fairly warm, and Joey took off his jacket.
"What's for lunch?" Joey asked, peering into the backpack.
Frank handed Joey the brown bag that had his name on it. "Look and see," he invited as he pulled his own lunch out.
"Cool! Peanut butter."
"No jelly?"
"Well yeah," said Joey, now through a mouthful of lunch. "But the peanut butter's the good part."
"Oh, I didn't know that. Mom made me bologna and cheese. I like it better." Both boys also had a bag of dried fruit, and a small bottle of juice. For several minutes, they sat side by side on the boulder, eating their lunch in companionable silence.
As Frank started in on his second sandwich, he looked over at his younger brother. It was so strange to think of him as his brother. You didn't usually just gain brothers all of a sudden like that. It was kinda like picking one up at the grocery store.
Joe's eye had swelled the night before, but today it was only a little puffy and a lot bruised. His cheek and mouth were bruised also, and Frank was sure his gut and sides probably had a bruise or two. But the towheaded boy seemed to show no indication of discomfort. "You were brave yesterday," he finally said to Joey.
Joey blinked and looked at Frank in some surprise. "I was?"
"Yeah, telling those guys off for making fun of me. Thanks."
"Oh..." Joey smiled, looking bashful at the unexpected praise. "Well...you're the one that made them stop hitting me."
Frank smiled a little and nodded. "Yeah. But you still fought them, even though they're both bigger 'n you. And that's brave!"
"Oh." It was clear that Joey had never thought about this definition of bravery. "Cool. Thanks." They grinned at each other, then finished their lunch.
Full of peanut butter and jelly, Joey seemed to have gotten any lost energy back, and then some. He bounced up, looking eagerly at Frank. "What now?" he asked eagerly.
Frank also stood, though less boisterously. He stuffed the empty bags back in the backpack and shrugged. "I dunno. We can't do too much more, we gotta be home by four. And it's after one." There was silence for a few moments before Frank said, "I know! I'll show you the stream! It's just inside the trees there, I think."
Joey liked that idea, and so they set into the trees once more. On the way, Joey occasionally climbed a tree or sprinted after a chipmunk. The stream was not that far away, but the way was steep, descending down into a sharp sort of valley. "Hey, look at this!" Joey said, veering off toward the left. Frank followed, and found Joey looking at a huge ditch in the forest floor, and a few vines hanging down from the trees above.
"Cool!" said Frank. "This'd be a great escape way for when we get the fort built. We'll have to have escape routes and stuff. This one can be a river of lava...and you have to swing over it!"
"Yeah! With fire sharks inside! An' if you don't swing fast enough, they bite your feet! I'm gonna try it out!"
"Okay, then me next."
Joey nodded and backed up several steps to get a running start. He eyed the vine, and the ditch, then ran at it! He grabbed the vine and gave a great leap, sailing easily over the gap. He laughed in sheer delight as he landed on the other side and tumbled into a drift of dead leaves. "Wow!" he exclaimed, jumping up with leaves clinging to his shirt. "That was awesome!"
Frank noticed that when Joey was happy or excited, that it was highly contagious, and found himself grinning, too. His own leap was a bit more graceful, and he landed on his feet. "Yep, definitely an escape route!" Grinning, he led the way once more down the incline.
As they went, the sounds of rushing water greeted the boys' ears, and Frank explained that the tail end of the stream ran right along next to the clearing, so that they could use it for their fort, but that the "good" part of the stream was down here. "I dunno if it's a stream or a river," Frank said. "It's either a big stream, or a little river."
"How do you know if it's a stream or a river?" Joey asked.
"Just size, I think. There!" He pointed at a bright flash of bluish-brown below; sky and sunlight glinting off the water's surface. Soon they stood at the edge of the water, watching it course past. At this widest part, the stream was about a dozen and a half feet wide, and running fairly smoothly under a thin sheet of ice. They could see the water through jagged holes where the sun had melted the ice. "See? This is so cool. I hope we can dam it up over where it's not as big. This'd make a great place to swim!"
"Yeah..." said Joey, peering at the ice. A few days before, it had been a solid, of thin sheet of ice from the onset of autumn cold, but with the warm weather it he begun to melt. If one looked closely, he would be able to see intricate patterns of ice made by the irregular melting. "Neat!"
"Yeah! I wonder if this gets enough ice to skate on! I never ice skated before, did you?"
Joey shook his head. "No, I roller skated though. I'm not very good at it."
"Ice skating's harder, I bet."
"I bet it's fun, though."
Frank nodded, and knelt down to the water to splash it a bit, and drew back with a theatrical shudder. "Wow, is it cold!" He stood up, drying his hand on his pants, and looked over at Joey to tell him they should start heading back, when his eyes widened in alarm,his body suddenly colder than the water. "Joey, no!"
For Joey had been about to step out onto the thin sheet of ice suspended from the bank over the flowing stream.
Too late! Joey turned, startled by Frank's cry, and stepped down on the ice. Crack! Even Joey's slight weight was far too much for the half-melted ice, and he fell through with an alarmed yell. Horrified, Frank ran to the edge of the stream, his fearful eyes catching a flash of Joey's red shirt slip downstream with the current. "No!" he cried again, plunging his arm into the icy water to try and grab him, but the current was too strong. Nearly sobbing with panic, Frank stood again, throwing his pack to the ground, searching frantically for his brother. His heart sank as he caught sight of the red several yards downstream, and sprinted after it. Don't let him die, don't let him die...was all he said, over and over again.
Could he grab his brother? He had to try! But could Frank swim well enough? He knew how, but was he good enough to pull someone else out of the water? The stream was not ridiculously wide or deep, but enough that it could drown him and Joey!
A final flash of the red shirt drove all second thoughts out of Frank's mind. The ice got thicker as the stream went on, and if Joey disappeared under there, Frank would never find him again, and he'd drown.