Joe saw the van in the drive and knew Frank had already returned home. He sighed wearily and put his key in the lock. Going inside, he was surprised to see his father sitting in the living room reading through the evening paper.
"Dad, when did you get home?" Joe asked, smiling. He waited for a response but his dad sat still, his concentration apparently focused on an article.
"I'm sorry I'm late," Joe apologized. "I would have called but mom said she was spending the night with Mrs. Hoen." Again, Joe waited for his dad to say something.
"Dad? Are you okay?" Joe asked, concern marring his features as he reached out to move the paper and see his father's face.
Fenton closed the paper before Joe touched it. Without a word or a glance at his youngest son, he stood up and exited the room.
Hurt, Joe went upstairs. He went into the bathroom and got ready for bed. He could hear Frank laughing on the cordless as he chatted with Phil and the sound only made him feel worse.
Was he doing the right thing he wondered as he stepped into the shower? Of course he answered his own question. He loved his brother and if Frank felt he would be better off without him then that is what he would give him: no little brother to waste his life protecting.
Joe finished getting ready for bed then crawled between the covers. Frank must have told their father about their last conversation and he had decided to give Joe the same treatment as Joe was giving Frank. Should he tell his dad about the conversation he had overheard? No, he decided. That would be tattling; something he hadn't done since second grade where he had learned his lesson well. No. He would tough it out. He knew that at least his mom wouldn't ignore him. Of that, he was positive. He closed his eyes and went to sleep.
Joe awoke the next morning to the smell of bacon. He looked at the clock and saw it was already going on eight o'clock. Luckily, it was summer so he didn't have to worry about being late for school. Still, he dressed quickly and hurried downstairs to the kitchen. "Good morning," he greeted his mother, kissing her on the cheek.
Laura bit her bottom lip and sat down at the table beside Frank. Joe's cheerful grin faltered when he saw only three places set at the table and each of them taken. Apparently, he had been wrong. His mother would give him the same treatment.
Joe turned to the stove and fought to control the sadness that washed over him when he saw that nothing had been left for him even there. The pans had been emptied and two were already soaking in the sink.
"I'm going to the park," Joe said without turning around. "I'll be home in time for dinner," he said, wondering if he would get any or if he would have to throw something together on his own.
Joe left the house and headed downtown. "Hi," he greeted Chet and Biff as he neared the two boys at Tom's Stop 'n Go close to the town park.
Ignoring him, Biff climbed behind the wheel of his van and waited for Chet who was moving a bit slower because he was toting a few snacks from the vending machine in front of the store.
"Need a hand?" Joe offered, seeing the bag of chips tilting precariously atop the pile in Chet's arms.
Chet tossed the snacks through the van's open window then opened the door and climbed in, pretending he hadn't seen or heard Joe. Biff started the van the two took off without a passing glance at Joe.
"I should have expected as much," Joe mumbled to himself as he continued to the park. "They weren't disagreeing with Frank at the party."
Joe arrived at the park a few minutes later with a plan of action. It was obvious that all of his so-called friends were really Frank's friends and not his so his only recourse was to make some new friends.
"Hey!" Joe shouted a greeting to Tony Bryson and Keith Wright, two boys he recognized form school. "Mind if I join you?" he asked.
Tony grinned and tossed the basketball to Joe. "We're just shooting hoops for now," he informed Joe in his deep baritone. "Ken, Tad and Johnny will be here in a little while and then we'll get a game going."
"Sounds good," Joe said, aiming the ball at the basket and letting it fly.
Keith grabbed the ball after it had sailed through the net. "You were on the Bayport High team last year, weren't you?" he asked.
Joe nodded. "Yeah," he admitted.
"Cool," Tony said. "You're on our team," he added, stealing the ball from Keith and doing a lay-up.
Joe played basketball until going on one o'clock then left the park and headed to Barney's Burger. He bought a jumbo combo then headed down the street to the arcade where he blew a couple of dollars before leaving and returning to the park. He wanted to return home but he dreaded the atmosphere so much that he ran laps around the baseball diamond until it grew close to time for dinner.
He left the park and headed back home, taking the same streets he had used to arrive at the park earlier that morning. He passed the store where he had seen Chet and Biff earlier, a frown on his face as a memory of the morning's encounter assaulted him. He straightened his shoulders and continued on until he heard something that brought him to a standstill.
"No one's going to help you," he heard a sinister voice say from down an alleyway a few feet to his front and right. Joe hurried over and peered down the alley. Two men in their mid to late twenties were standing in front of an elderly lady who was looking at the two fearfully.
"Hand it over and we won't hurt you," the speaker continued.
"Much," added the second thug.
Joe rushed forward without a sound and grabbed the second speaker. He hit the guy squarely on the jaw. Startled, the other thug grabbed the old lady and shoved her forward into Joe's arms before taking off down the alley toward the opposite exit.
"I'll be right back," Joe promised, releasing the woman and taking off after the man. Joe caught up to him just before he reached the exit and grabbed at his left arm, jerking him around. The guy was ready and had his right hand balled into a fist. He swung at Joe who ducked and jabbed the man in the side with his own fist. As the hood gasped in pain, Joe released his arm and made another fist. He brought it up to the crouching mugger's jaw. Like his partner, he too fell to the hard ground.
Joe took a step closer but was halted by a hand on his shoulder. Joe spun around with his fist in the air but the punch never connected.
"Easy, Joe," Sergeant Con Riley ordered him, catching Joe's flying fist in a firm grip.
"Con," Joe said, grinning as his hand was released. He let his arm fall to his side. "You got here fast," he told the twenty-something sergeant with curly brown hair and brown eyes.
"I just had dinner at Sally's," said Con, naming the restaurant Joe had just passed to enter the alley. "I'm off duty but since I'm here, I'll run these two perps in if you'll give me a hand?"
"My pleasure," Joe replied, reaching down and pulling the groggy man to his feet. "Don't you know you're supposed to respect your elders?" Joe asked him.
"Bite me!" the man snarled, his green eyes filled with hate.
Joe, Con, the elderly woman, and the two muggers arrived at the police station a scant twenty minutes later but by the time the report had been filed Joe was already over two hours late. Con volunteered to escort the woman home so Joe took off at a run. He knew he should have called but he didn't think of it until he reached the grocer's at the main intersection and he had spent all of his change at the arcade so he couldn't use the payphone.
Joe kept running until he reached the walkway to his house. He was now exactly two and a half hours late. Oh well, he thought. At least I have a good excuse.
Joe reached the front door and twisted the knob. Locked. Sighing, he went around to the kitchen door. He could see his parents and Frank sitting at the kitchen table enjoying a glass of lemonade. He tried to open the door. Locked.
Joe knocked on the door but, except for his mother who started to rise but was halted by Fenton's hand on her arm, he was ignored. "Very funny!" Joe shouted sarcastically. "Open the door." He waited but they continued to ignore him.
Shaking his head and gritting his teeth, he reached into his pocket and removed his key ring. He picked the appropriate key and tried to insert it into the lock. It wouldn't go. He tried to jiggle it but it still refused to work. Pulling the key back he looked through the door's window at his family. His face registered first shock and then betrayal. Without a word, he turned around and walked away.
"Dad, when did you get home?" Joe asked, smiling. He waited for a response but his dad sat still, his concentration apparently focused on an article.
"I'm sorry I'm late," Joe apologized. "I would have called but mom said she was spending the night with Mrs. Hoen." Again, Joe waited for his dad to say something.
"Dad? Are you okay?" Joe asked, concern marring his features as he reached out to move the paper and see his father's face.
Fenton closed the paper before Joe touched it. Without a word or a glance at his youngest son, he stood up and exited the room.
Hurt, Joe went upstairs. He went into the bathroom and got ready for bed. He could hear Frank laughing on the cordless as he chatted with Phil and the sound only made him feel worse.
Was he doing the right thing he wondered as he stepped into the shower? Of course he answered his own question. He loved his brother and if Frank felt he would be better off without him then that is what he would give him: no little brother to waste his life protecting.
Joe finished getting ready for bed then crawled between the covers. Frank must have told their father about their last conversation and he had decided to give Joe the same treatment as Joe was giving Frank. Should he tell his dad about the conversation he had overheard? No, he decided. That would be tattling; something he hadn't done since second grade where he had learned his lesson well. No. He would tough it out. He knew that at least his mom wouldn't ignore him. Of that, he was positive. He closed his eyes and went to sleep.
Joe awoke the next morning to the smell of bacon. He looked at the clock and saw it was already going on eight o'clock. Luckily, it was summer so he didn't have to worry about being late for school. Still, he dressed quickly and hurried downstairs to the kitchen. "Good morning," he greeted his mother, kissing her on the cheek.
Laura bit her bottom lip and sat down at the table beside Frank. Joe's cheerful grin faltered when he saw only three places set at the table and each of them taken. Apparently, he had been wrong. His mother would give him the same treatment.
Joe turned to the stove and fought to control the sadness that washed over him when he saw that nothing had been left for him even there. The pans had been emptied and two were already soaking in the sink.
"I'm going to the park," Joe said without turning around. "I'll be home in time for dinner," he said, wondering if he would get any or if he would have to throw something together on his own.
Joe left the house and headed downtown. "Hi," he greeted Chet and Biff as he neared the two boys at Tom's Stop 'n Go close to the town park.
Ignoring him, Biff climbed behind the wheel of his van and waited for Chet who was moving a bit slower because he was toting a few snacks from the vending machine in front of the store.
"Need a hand?" Joe offered, seeing the bag of chips tilting precariously atop the pile in Chet's arms.
Chet tossed the snacks through the van's open window then opened the door and climbed in, pretending he hadn't seen or heard Joe. Biff started the van the two took off without a passing glance at Joe.
"I should have expected as much," Joe mumbled to himself as he continued to the park. "They weren't disagreeing with Frank at the party."
Joe arrived at the park a few minutes later with a plan of action. It was obvious that all of his so-called friends were really Frank's friends and not his so his only recourse was to make some new friends.
"Hey!" Joe shouted a greeting to Tony Bryson and Keith Wright, two boys he recognized form school. "Mind if I join you?" he asked.
Tony grinned and tossed the basketball to Joe. "We're just shooting hoops for now," he informed Joe in his deep baritone. "Ken, Tad and Johnny will be here in a little while and then we'll get a game going."
"Sounds good," Joe said, aiming the ball at the basket and letting it fly.
Keith grabbed the ball after it had sailed through the net. "You were on the Bayport High team last year, weren't you?" he asked.
Joe nodded. "Yeah," he admitted.
"Cool," Tony said. "You're on our team," he added, stealing the ball from Keith and doing a lay-up.
Joe played basketball until going on one o'clock then left the park and headed to Barney's Burger. He bought a jumbo combo then headed down the street to the arcade where he blew a couple of dollars before leaving and returning to the park. He wanted to return home but he dreaded the atmosphere so much that he ran laps around the baseball diamond until it grew close to time for dinner.
He left the park and headed back home, taking the same streets he had used to arrive at the park earlier that morning. He passed the store where he had seen Chet and Biff earlier, a frown on his face as a memory of the morning's encounter assaulted him. He straightened his shoulders and continued on until he heard something that brought him to a standstill.
"No one's going to help you," he heard a sinister voice say from down an alleyway a few feet to his front and right. Joe hurried over and peered down the alley. Two men in their mid to late twenties were standing in front of an elderly lady who was looking at the two fearfully.
"Hand it over and we won't hurt you," the speaker continued.
"Much," added the second thug.
Joe rushed forward without a sound and grabbed the second speaker. He hit the guy squarely on the jaw. Startled, the other thug grabbed the old lady and shoved her forward into Joe's arms before taking off down the alley toward the opposite exit.
"I'll be right back," Joe promised, releasing the woman and taking off after the man. Joe caught up to him just before he reached the exit and grabbed at his left arm, jerking him around. The guy was ready and had his right hand balled into a fist. He swung at Joe who ducked and jabbed the man in the side with his own fist. As the hood gasped in pain, Joe released his arm and made another fist. He brought it up to the crouching mugger's jaw. Like his partner, he too fell to the hard ground.
Joe took a step closer but was halted by a hand on his shoulder. Joe spun around with his fist in the air but the punch never connected.
"Easy, Joe," Sergeant Con Riley ordered him, catching Joe's flying fist in a firm grip.
"Con," Joe said, grinning as his hand was released. He let his arm fall to his side. "You got here fast," he told the twenty-something sergeant with curly brown hair and brown eyes.
"I just had dinner at Sally's," said Con, naming the restaurant Joe had just passed to enter the alley. "I'm off duty but since I'm here, I'll run these two perps in if you'll give me a hand?"
"My pleasure," Joe replied, reaching down and pulling the groggy man to his feet. "Don't you know you're supposed to respect your elders?" Joe asked him.
"Bite me!" the man snarled, his green eyes filled with hate.
Joe, Con, the elderly woman, and the two muggers arrived at the police station a scant twenty minutes later but by the time the report had been filed Joe was already over two hours late. Con volunteered to escort the woman home so Joe took off at a run. He knew he should have called but he didn't think of it until he reached the grocer's at the main intersection and he had spent all of his change at the arcade so he couldn't use the payphone.
Joe kept running until he reached the walkway to his house. He was now exactly two and a half hours late. Oh well, he thought. At least I have a good excuse.
Joe reached the front door and twisted the knob. Locked. Sighing, he went around to the kitchen door. He could see his parents and Frank sitting at the kitchen table enjoying a glass of lemonade. He tried to open the door. Locked.
Joe knocked on the door but, except for his mother who started to rise but was halted by Fenton's hand on her arm, he was ignored. "Very funny!" Joe shouted sarcastically. "Open the door." He waited but they continued to ignore him.
Shaking his head and gritting his teeth, he reached into his pocket and removed his key ring. He picked the appropriate key and tried to insert it into the lock. It wouldn't go. He tried to jiggle it but it still refused to work. Pulling the key back he looked through the door's window at his family. His face registered first shock and then betrayal. Without a word, he turned around and walked away.