Joe swallowed, looked in the crib to see his brother still sleeping, and put up no resistance as he was pulled from the nursery and down the hall into his old room.
Austin shoved Joe across the room. "Now, Joesph, take off your clothes. And don't keep me waiting too long," Austin added threateningly, scooping up the whip from the floor.
Joe got out of his clothes as fast as he could. He wanted to get this over with. He knew this time would hurt the worse if only because he hadn't been beaten since Laura had adopted him. He stood waiting; wearing nothing more than his briefs and socks.
"My, how you've grown," Austin commented, bringing the whip back and letting it fly.
Joe let out a muffled scream as it made contact with his chest. "Then turn around boy," Austin ordered him. Joe turned so that his back was facing Austin and waited for the whip to land again.
A second later, he felt the second sting. Austin kept the whip flying even after Joe's back had become a bloody mass. "And thirty," Austin said, bringing down the whip for one more lash. "Ten lashes for every year you were absent," he told Joe who had long since sank to his knees.
Joe bowed his head, not wanting Austin to see the tears lurking on his face. But Austin grabbed Joe's hair and hauled him to his feet. "What's the matter, son?" Austin asked. "You think you have had enough? Well, I don't think so," he said, dragging Joe over to the closet. Austin shoved Joe into the closet door.
"You think I don't know what you were doing while I was gone?" Austin demanded. "I can tell when my things have been gone through. You'll not get another chance," he said. Joe smiled inwardly. If Austin thought Joe had done all the snooping, that meant he didn't suspect Frank was a spy.
Austin grabbed Joe's hands and held them out, palms up. "Now, for touching things that aren't yours," Austin said, stepping back. He stooped down and picked up a thick hickory switch. "Keep your palms open," he ordered Joe, then began hitting Joe's hands with the switch.
The tears fell unchecked from Joe's eyes as the rod made contact with his palms repeatedly. After his palms began bleeding, Austin gave Joe fifteen more lashes with the switch before stepping back. Joe put his hands under his arms, hoping the pressure would help ease the pain.
"Ma...may I go now?" Joe asked in a little voice.
Austin laughed. He pulled Joe forward, opened the closet door and shoved Joe inside. "You can resume your duties tomorrow," he told Joe, before slamming the door and locking it. Joe sat huddled in the dark closet, crying.
Mr. Hardy arrived at the Moodys the next morning around eight a.m. He was let in by Charles and shown to the second floor where his room was. "Is that a baby I hear?" Mr. Hardy inquired.
"Indeed," Charles answered. "The Moodys have a son. Two actually," he amended. "The eldest is responsible for taking care of the baby; but I am afraid he was punished last night and hasn't been allowed to leave his room this morning."
"Shouldn't he be allowed out to tend to the baby?" Mr. Hardy asked, trying hard to hide his worry.
"Oh, Mr. Moody will let Joesph out when he feels Joe has learned his lesson," Charles said. "The baby isn't my, or your, responsibility. I suggest you don't bring up the subject again," he added, leaving Mr. Hardy alone.
Mr. Hardy waited until he heard Charles footsteps echoing down the hallway then left his room. He made his way to the nursery. "Shhh," he whispered to the baby, picking it up. "I'll change you and get you something to eat," he promised. He took the baby over to the dresser and picked up the nessecary items, then returned to the crib and sat Paul down. A few minutes later, the baby was wearing a fresh diaper and Mr. Hardy gave the baby a pacifier to suck on until he could find Joe and get a bottle.
He left the nursery and walked on down the hall, ducking into a room out of sight when he heard Austin Moody's voice coming from one of the rooms. "Get your clothes on and go see to your brother," Austin ordered Joe, opening the closet. "And remember, I had better not catch you snooping around again. The only time you are allowed out of the nursery is to go to the kitchen. If I catch you anywhere else, what you got last night will be a taste of Heaven compared to what I will do to you."
"Y..yes, Sir," Joe stuttered, his voice barely a whisper. Austin turned his back on Joe and left the room, hurrying down the stairs and away from his son.
Joe was buttoning his shirt when Mr. Hardy walked into the room. "Joe," Mr. Hardy said.
Joe looked up in fright. "Easy, Son," Mr. Hardy said, coming closer. "It's me." He came over and touched Joe's shoulder.
Joe winced and backed away. "Joe," Mr. Hardy said, his eyes narrowing on his youngest son.
"I'm okay," Joe told him. Joe smiled up at his father. "I'm glad you're here," he said. "I gave Frank some names last night to check out. Have you talked to him yet?"
Mr. Hardy shook his head. "I haven't seen him yet. Oh no!" he said, catching sight of Joe's hands. He grabbed Joe's hands as Joe tried to hide them behind his back. "Why did he do that to you?"
"He found out his stuff had been gone through and wanted to teach me to stay out of his stuff," Joe answered truthfully.
"Oh, Joesph," Mr. Hardy said, pulling Joe to him and giving him a hug, unaware of the grimace of pain which made it's way to Joe's face at the contact. "I'm so sorry. I'll make sure he doesn't find anything out of place from now on."
"It's okay, Dad," Joe told him, moving away from his embrace. "I did go through his drawers. I was trying to find something we could use against him."
"Don't do that," Mr. Hardy reprimanded Joe. "Your only responsibility while you are here is to watch out for yourself and your brother."
"Paul!" Joe said, his eyes going wide. "I need to go and check on him," he said, starting out of the room.
"He's okay," Mr. Hardy quickly assurred his distraught son. "I changed him before I came in here. He's hungry though."
"I'll go get his bottle," Joe said, smiling at his dad. "Dad," Joe said, a bit hesitantly. "After this is over, Paul..."
"Will become our son too," Mr. Hardy said, stopping Joe's words.
"I love you," Joe told him, giving him a quick hug before hurrying out of the room.
Mr. Hardy stayed to look around. He frowned as his eyes lit on the whip and noticed for the first time the handmade chair which occupied the middle of the room. He walked over for a closer look.
"Ah, there you are," Austin Moody's voice interuppted Mr. Hardy's explorations.
Mr. Hardy looked around and saw Austin standing in the doorway. "I was looking around and saw this unique chair and just had to have a closer look," Mr. Hardy said. "Wherever did you find it?"
"Oh, I had it specially made," Austin replied with a smile. "It's a present for my eldest son."
"A chair without a back?" Mr. Hardy inquired, looking at the strong oak chair with two large sides where one's arms could be held in place with plenty of room to spare.
"Indeed," Austin replied. "He doesn't much care to have anything touch his back," he explained, smiling at the thought.
"When did you get it?" Mr. Hardy asked.
"Three years ago," Austin answered. "Of course, he hasn't had much use out of it, but that is about to change."
"Really?" Mr. Hardy commented, swallowing the bile which rose in his throat. He looked away from the chair and over at Austin. "I know you said I didn't have to start until tomorrow, but I have already brought my things over and can begin immediately."
"Excellent," Austin said. "Well then, allow me to show you around the house and grounds and introduce you to the rest of my staff. Then I will let you learn your way around my office."
Mr. Hardy follwed Austin from the room and on a tour of the hous. One room drew Mr. Hardy's interest. It was a sunroom filled with easels and various paint supplies.
"You are a painter?" Mr. Hardy inquired.
"Heavens, no," Austin denied. "My wife, Ami, paints. It is one of her hobbies."
"One of?"
"Ami is complex," Austin explained. "She paints, sculpts, tends the garden on occassion, and likes to race. She insists these things help her to relax."
"Racing?" Mr. Hardy asked. "How could racing be deemed relaxing?"
"Ami enjoys the rush it gives her. That is what she finds relaxing," explained Austin, leading Mr. Hardy down stairs.
Austin showed Mr. Hardy the rest of the house, ending the tour in his office. "This is where you will take care of my affairs," Austin said. "And Kent, there is one rule I insist on. If you attempt to break this rule, you will be dismissed without references and without pay."
"What is it?" Mr. Hardy asked, responding to his undercover name.
"My family is private and off limits. There will be no interference of any sort."
"Understood," Mr. Hardy replied. "My job is buisness only."
"No," Austin corrected. "You may handle anything concerning our friends as well. Just ignore my children. To you, they do not exist."
"As you wish," Mr. Hardy forced himself to reply.
"Very good," Austin said. "Well, now that you have seen the house, feel free to explore the grounds. I will expect you in the office to begin your duties in the morning at eight am, sharp."
"Of course," agreed Mr. Hardy. "I believe I will go and tour the grounds." Mr. Hardy left Austin in the office and exited the house via the kitchen. He found Frank in the yard with a pair of clippers in hand. He was near the hedge by the pool and Mr. Hardy went over to stand near him.
"Find anything last night?" Mr. Hardy asked.
"Not much," Frank said. "Joe gave me some names and I found an address book, but that was pretty much it."
"Be careful when you search," Mr. Hardy warned Frank. "Moody found out someone was in his things last night and Joe got punished."
"Is he okay?" Frank asked, quickly turning around and looking at his father in alarm.
"I think so," Mr. Hardy replied. "But we don't have much time. I saw Joe's bedroom this morning. It's nothing more than a torture chamber."
"How could they be so mean to their own children?" Frank asked. "Moody seems so nice."
"Of course he is nice to us," Mr. Hardy concurred. "He takes out all his anger at everyone on Joe."
"And his new son," Frank added, shaking his head. "I understand why Joe had to save his brother. I'd do anything for Joe. But why did he have to come back here? Surely that ridiculous agreement at the time of his adoption wouldn't stand up in court?"
"No, it wouldn't," agreed Mr. Hardy. "But prior to a court date, which could be put off indefinitely, especially if Moody pulls some strings, Laura, you and I could all end up in jail. And, with our reputations, we would never survive to go to court."
"I'll get the address book to Sam," Frank said. "I have to go into town later for some supplies. He can run a check on the names of Moody's friends that Joe gave me."
"Right," Fenton said. "I'll keep snooping around the house. Oh, try and pick up some infant formula for Paul. I have the feeling the Moodys won't see about getting any."
"How did Joe survive as long as he did?" Frank asked. "I mean, if it weren't for Joe now, Paul would probably be half dead."
"I don't know," admitted Fenton. "But I think when this is all over, Joe will tell us."
"If he can," Frank said softly, wondering how much Joe could take this time around.
Austin shoved Joe across the room. "Now, Joesph, take off your clothes. And don't keep me waiting too long," Austin added threateningly, scooping up the whip from the floor.
Joe got out of his clothes as fast as he could. He wanted to get this over with. He knew this time would hurt the worse if only because he hadn't been beaten since Laura had adopted him. He stood waiting; wearing nothing more than his briefs and socks.
"My, how you've grown," Austin commented, bringing the whip back and letting it fly.
Joe let out a muffled scream as it made contact with his chest. "Then turn around boy," Austin ordered him. Joe turned so that his back was facing Austin and waited for the whip to land again.
A second later, he felt the second sting. Austin kept the whip flying even after Joe's back had become a bloody mass. "And thirty," Austin said, bringing down the whip for one more lash. "Ten lashes for every year you were absent," he told Joe who had long since sank to his knees.
Joe bowed his head, not wanting Austin to see the tears lurking on his face. But Austin grabbed Joe's hair and hauled him to his feet. "What's the matter, son?" Austin asked. "You think you have had enough? Well, I don't think so," he said, dragging Joe over to the closet. Austin shoved Joe into the closet door.
"You think I don't know what you were doing while I was gone?" Austin demanded. "I can tell when my things have been gone through. You'll not get another chance," he said. Joe smiled inwardly. If Austin thought Joe had done all the snooping, that meant he didn't suspect Frank was a spy.
Austin grabbed Joe's hands and held them out, palms up. "Now, for touching things that aren't yours," Austin said, stepping back. He stooped down and picked up a thick hickory switch. "Keep your palms open," he ordered Joe, then began hitting Joe's hands with the switch.
The tears fell unchecked from Joe's eyes as the rod made contact with his palms repeatedly. After his palms began bleeding, Austin gave Joe fifteen more lashes with the switch before stepping back. Joe put his hands under his arms, hoping the pressure would help ease the pain.
"Ma...may I go now?" Joe asked in a little voice.
Austin laughed. He pulled Joe forward, opened the closet door and shoved Joe inside. "You can resume your duties tomorrow," he told Joe, before slamming the door and locking it. Joe sat huddled in the dark closet, crying.
Mr. Hardy arrived at the Moodys the next morning around eight a.m. He was let in by Charles and shown to the second floor where his room was. "Is that a baby I hear?" Mr. Hardy inquired.
"Indeed," Charles answered. "The Moodys have a son. Two actually," he amended. "The eldest is responsible for taking care of the baby; but I am afraid he was punished last night and hasn't been allowed to leave his room this morning."
"Shouldn't he be allowed out to tend to the baby?" Mr. Hardy asked, trying hard to hide his worry.
"Oh, Mr. Moody will let Joesph out when he feels Joe has learned his lesson," Charles said. "The baby isn't my, or your, responsibility. I suggest you don't bring up the subject again," he added, leaving Mr. Hardy alone.
Mr. Hardy waited until he heard Charles footsteps echoing down the hallway then left his room. He made his way to the nursery. "Shhh," he whispered to the baby, picking it up. "I'll change you and get you something to eat," he promised. He took the baby over to the dresser and picked up the nessecary items, then returned to the crib and sat Paul down. A few minutes later, the baby was wearing a fresh diaper and Mr. Hardy gave the baby a pacifier to suck on until he could find Joe and get a bottle.
He left the nursery and walked on down the hall, ducking into a room out of sight when he heard Austin Moody's voice coming from one of the rooms. "Get your clothes on and go see to your brother," Austin ordered Joe, opening the closet. "And remember, I had better not catch you snooping around again. The only time you are allowed out of the nursery is to go to the kitchen. If I catch you anywhere else, what you got last night will be a taste of Heaven compared to what I will do to you."
"Y..yes, Sir," Joe stuttered, his voice barely a whisper. Austin turned his back on Joe and left the room, hurrying down the stairs and away from his son.
Joe was buttoning his shirt when Mr. Hardy walked into the room. "Joe," Mr. Hardy said.
Joe looked up in fright. "Easy, Son," Mr. Hardy said, coming closer. "It's me." He came over and touched Joe's shoulder.
Joe winced and backed away. "Joe," Mr. Hardy said, his eyes narrowing on his youngest son.
"I'm okay," Joe told him. Joe smiled up at his father. "I'm glad you're here," he said. "I gave Frank some names last night to check out. Have you talked to him yet?"
Mr. Hardy shook his head. "I haven't seen him yet. Oh no!" he said, catching sight of Joe's hands. He grabbed Joe's hands as Joe tried to hide them behind his back. "Why did he do that to you?"
"He found out his stuff had been gone through and wanted to teach me to stay out of his stuff," Joe answered truthfully.
"Oh, Joesph," Mr. Hardy said, pulling Joe to him and giving him a hug, unaware of the grimace of pain which made it's way to Joe's face at the contact. "I'm so sorry. I'll make sure he doesn't find anything out of place from now on."
"It's okay, Dad," Joe told him, moving away from his embrace. "I did go through his drawers. I was trying to find something we could use against him."
"Don't do that," Mr. Hardy reprimanded Joe. "Your only responsibility while you are here is to watch out for yourself and your brother."
"Paul!" Joe said, his eyes going wide. "I need to go and check on him," he said, starting out of the room.
"He's okay," Mr. Hardy quickly assurred his distraught son. "I changed him before I came in here. He's hungry though."
"I'll go get his bottle," Joe said, smiling at his dad. "Dad," Joe said, a bit hesitantly. "After this is over, Paul..."
"Will become our son too," Mr. Hardy said, stopping Joe's words.
"I love you," Joe told him, giving him a quick hug before hurrying out of the room.
Mr. Hardy stayed to look around. He frowned as his eyes lit on the whip and noticed for the first time the handmade chair which occupied the middle of the room. He walked over for a closer look.
"Ah, there you are," Austin Moody's voice interuppted Mr. Hardy's explorations.
Mr. Hardy looked around and saw Austin standing in the doorway. "I was looking around and saw this unique chair and just had to have a closer look," Mr. Hardy said. "Wherever did you find it?"
"Oh, I had it specially made," Austin replied with a smile. "It's a present for my eldest son."
"A chair without a back?" Mr. Hardy inquired, looking at the strong oak chair with two large sides where one's arms could be held in place with plenty of room to spare.
"Indeed," Austin replied. "He doesn't much care to have anything touch his back," he explained, smiling at the thought.
"When did you get it?" Mr. Hardy asked.
"Three years ago," Austin answered. "Of course, he hasn't had much use out of it, but that is about to change."
"Really?" Mr. Hardy commented, swallowing the bile which rose in his throat. He looked away from the chair and over at Austin. "I know you said I didn't have to start until tomorrow, but I have already brought my things over and can begin immediately."
"Excellent," Austin said. "Well then, allow me to show you around the house and grounds and introduce you to the rest of my staff. Then I will let you learn your way around my office."
Mr. Hardy follwed Austin from the room and on a tour of the hous. One room drew Mr. Hardy's interest. It was a sunroom filled with easels and various paint supplies.
"You are a painter?" Mr. Hardy inquired.
"Heavens, no," Austin denied. "My wife, Ami, paints. It is one of her hobbies."
"One of?"
"Ami is complex," Austin explained. "She paints, sculpts, tends the garden on occassion, and likes to race. She insists these things help her to relax."
"Racing?" Mr. Hardy asked. "How could racing be deemed relaxing?"
"Ami enjoys the rush it gives her. That is what she finds relaxing," explained Austin, leading Mr. Hardy down stairs.
Austin showed Mr. Hardy the rest of the house, ending the tour in his office. "This is where you will take care of my affairs," Austin said. "And Kent, there is one rule I insist on. If you attempt to break this rule, you will be dismissed without references and without pay."
"What is it?" Mr. Hardy asked, responding to his undercover name.
"My family is private and off limits. There will be no interference of any sort."
"Understood," Mr. Hardy replied. "My job is buisness only."
"No," Austin corrected. "You may handle anything concerning our friends as well. Just ignore my children. To you, they do not exist."
"As you wish," Mr. Hardy forced himself to reply.
"Very good," Austin said. "Well, now that you have seen the house, feel free to explore the grounds. I will expect you in the office to begin your duties in the morning at eight am, sharp."
"Of course," agreed Mr. Hardy. "I believe I will go and tour the grounds." Mr. Hardy left Austin in the office and exited the house via the kitchen. He found Frank in the yard with a pair of clippers in hand. He was near the hedge by the pool and Mr. Hardy went over to stand near him.
"Find anything last night?" Mr. Hardy asked.
"Not much," Frank said. "Joe gave me some names and I found an address book, but that was pretty much it."
"Be careful when you search," Mr. Hardy warned Frank. "Moody found out someone was in his things last night and Joe got punished."
"Is he okay?" Frank asked, quickly turning around and looking at his father in alarm.
"I think so," Mr. Hardy replied. "But we don't have much time. I saw Joe's bedroom this morning. It's nothing more than a torture chamber."
"How could they be so mean to their own children?" Frank asked. "Moody seems so nice."
"Of course he is nice to us," Mr. Hardy concurred. "He takes out all his anger at everyone on Joe."
"And his new son," Frank added, shaking his head. "I understand why Joe had to save his brother. I'd do anything for Joe. But why did he have to come back here? Surely that ridiculous agreement at the time of his adoption wouldn't stand up in court?"
"No, it wouldn't," agreed Mr. Hardy. "But prior to a court date, which could be put off indefinitely, especially if Moody pulls some strings, Laura, you and I could all end up in jail. And, with our reputations, we would never survive to go to court."
"I'll get the address book to Sam," Frank said. "I have to go into town later for some supplies. He can run a check on the names of Moody's friends that Joe gave me."
"Right," Fenton said. "I'll keep snooping around the house. Oh, try and pick up some infant formula for Paul. I have the feeling the Moodys won't see about getting any."
"How did Joe survive as long as he did?" Frank asked. "I mean, if it weren't for Joe now, Paul would probably be half dead."
"I don't know," admitted Fenton. "But I think when this is all over, Joe will tell us."
"If he can," Frank said softly, wondering how much Joe could take this time around.