Cold Spell

Chapter 16

The next two days were the longest in Joe Hardy's life as he convalesced in the burrow, slowly regaining strength as his body replenished the blood he'd lost and adjusted to the pain of the injuries.

He was frustrated not to be back on his feet by now, but his brother was quick to point out that he wasn't exactly trying to recover under the best conditions, battling a weakening body every step of the way.

Frank surreptitiously made sure Joe got the slightly larger portion of food right now, which pathetically amounted to a few extra berries or extra ketchup. They had to strictly ration what little food had been recovered from the survival kit and the duffle bags, and Frank thought it would be better if they alternated days between what they could scavenge and what measly 'real' food they had. It was enough to stay alive on but made it difficult to make quick ground while recuperating.

In addition to the four protein bars that had been left over after Joe ate one before the trip back; various condiments were being used to help 'flavor' water, oft times to Joe's chagrin (mustard water sucked, but they needed the nutrients from wherever they could get them); one can of baked beans; toothpaste, and one piece of gum; they also had a small vacuum-sealed pack of salmon Fenton had given to his older son to bring back for Sam Radley, and a box of seal-shaped chocolates Frank had gotten for Callie.

That was it.

The older teen had not gone back to the pond to try his hand at fishing again, although he now had the survival fishing kit. He wanted to wait until Joe was feeling well enough to go with him. Neither boy fancied the idea of being separated again. Especially not since Joe found out about Frank's run-in with the grizzly bear….

When he was younger, the blond youth was plagued by recurring nightmares about a bear, and the thoughts that Frank had come face to face with one, made him uneasy and unwilling to let the older boy go fishing without someone to watch his back!

Frank also found the bottle of Tylenol Extra Strength that was packed in his shaving kit and that helped with the pain, although he was very strict in how much he would let Joe have.

There was no television, no stereo, no good books – even the savage irony of the detective magazine was no longer the distraction it had been, not for the older teen anyway.

Joe knew something was bothering Frank but had no idea what. His brother had become quieter and more grim than usual, but every time he had tried to get him to open up, the older boy found a sudden need to check the fire or something else that often times took him outside the burrow until Joe fell back asleep. He suspected it might have something to do with their father's cover picture on the magazine, but wasn't sure if that was it, or just part of it.

But for him it was another story. The photograph gave Joe a lot of comfort. When he looked at the serious face that carried just a hint of humor in the dark brown eyes, it was a physical reminder of hope.

Joe knew his father would be looking for them and he would continue to do so until something was found. They had not gone down over an ocean or other body of water where a plane could sink into oblivion – no, they had crashed on land. And Fenton Hardy would not stop looking for them….

So he tended to stare at it for long periods of time, usually when his brother was tending the fire, getting food, water or otherwise distracted.

"How does Dad do it?" Joe wondered when Frank came back into the burrow and caught him gazing at the picture, again.

"Do what?" the older boy asked, pretending not to be worried about the amount of time his brother spent staring at the cover.

"Be such a good detective when his face is so well known?" Joe sighed and reached out to trace the outline of their father's strong jaw.

Frank watched him for a few moments, his worry growing with each moment. He wished Joe wouldn't spend so much staring at it…it unnerved him.

"I dunno," the older boy finally admitted, "guess that's what makes him so good….That and the fact that he's a master of disguise."

Joe looked at him strangely for a moment and then nodded. "You know, I never thought about that before…but you're right. There probably aren't that many people out there who really know what he looks like…" His voice trailed off and he got a whimsical look on his face.

Frank knew he was elsewhere and after a moment, he cleared his throat. Joe blinked and looked at him. "I don't think you should spend so much time looking at that picture," the older boy said softly. "It isn't good for you."

Joe looked at him for a moment and then he just said, "Why does it bother you so much?" His tone wasn't cross or reproaching, just curious.

"I don't know," Frank finally admitted a few moments later as he tried to put it into words. "I guess because whenever I look at it, I keep thinking of all the people we might never see again…starting with him…." He couldn't say the word…Dad…it stuck in his throat.

It had been five and a half days now since the crash, and Frank found his hope for rescue wavering, no matter what kind of front he put on for Joe.

Joe put the magazine down and reached and took his brother's hand in his own, surprised by how cold it was. But then again, he'd been stuck inside where it was warmer, and bundled under the blanket and sweaters from their duffle bags, while Frank had been doing something about lunch.

"You're cold," he said, and the older boy just shrugged. He had been outside for a while. Joe rubbed his brother's hand, trying to get some warmth back into it. "Use my mittens; I don't need them right now."

Frank scoffed, "Kiddo, I don't know how to break it to you, but I don't know where they are. They weren't on your hands when you got back here."

Joe frowned as he thought about that for a moment. He didn't remember losing the mittens or even taking them off, but must have if he wasn't wearing them at the time of the wolf attack. Most of the trip back was a hazy blur at best – he'd been so tired….

Shaking his head he sighed; he let go of Frank's hand and patted a spot next to him. "It gives me hope."

"What gives you hope?" Frank asked as he had sat down next to his brother and leaned back against the dirt wall, appreciative of the invitation. He laid his arm lightly across the top of his brother's shoulders and felt the younger boy settle back against him.

"The picture," Joe said, pulling some of his warmed coverings over them both – it must be freezing outside, judging by how cold Frank felt!

"Oh," Frank was curious, "why?" He closed his eyes and let his cheek rest on the top of his brother's head – weary beyond belief; hunger and exhaustion taking their toll on him.

"Well," Joe said, "when I look at it, I can almost hear his voice in my head saying 'don't give up, son, I'm going to find you,' and I believe it."

Frank opened his eyes and glanced down at the picture again. He gave a small shudder and felt his brother grab the hand that he had draped gently over his left shoulder. Joe gave it a small squeeze.

"It's just eerie…" Frank finally admitted, closing his eyes again, "looking at the picture, seeing him but not seeing him…it's hard to explain."

He waited for Joe to comment but the younger boy was quiet for a long time, and Frank thought he must have drifted off to sleep, but then his brother spoke, his voice reflective and more a whisper than anything: "Maybe it doesn't bother me like that, because I'm used to seeing things that way."

"What do you mean?" Frank asked, a bit baffled, as he stifled a yawn.

"You're tired," Joe said, "We can talk about this later. Why don't you get some sleep?"

"I'm okay," Frank said, "I'll take a nap after lunch."

"What is for lunch?" Joe asked. He actually was hoping to distract Frank from this conversation, suddenly unsure if he wanted to finish it.

"Well…" Frank said, reaching up with his free hand and rubbing his tired eyes, "How does half a protein bar sound, with a ketchup and water chaser?"

"No sticks this time?" Joe pressed, "Or berries?"

Frank gave a soft snort. "I figured I'd save those local delicacies for real special occasions…like breakfast."

"Nice," Joe said. "What's for supper, or is it too early to tell?"

"Depends on how you're feeling, actually," Frank admitted a moment later.

"Me, how so?"

"Do you feel up to arguing with me?"

Joe frowned as he saw the faintest hints of mischievousness in his brother's serious brown eyes when he looked back at him.

"That depends," he admitted, slowly, after a few moments, "What would we be fighting about?"

"Baked beans."

Joe groaned loudly, "Oh man. No way. They're your thing – not mine, Frank, you know that!"

"So you are feeling better," Frank mused – Hardy vs. Hardy, Round 2, "Beans are high in protein, kiddo, and fiber. They contain lots of vitamins and minerals, like iron, folic acid, niacin, potassium, all the good stuff that'll help you. They also contain vitamin K which helps with normal blood clotting! "

"My arm isn't bleeding anymore!" Joe refuted.

Frank pulled away slightly, folded his arms and gave his brother 'the look'.

"You've been rehearsing," Joe grumped; he really hated beans!

Frank sighed, "Joe——

"Frank."

"I don't want to force you—"

"Then don't."

"Joe."

"I just really hate them! What's the good of eating them if I can't keep them down anyway!"

"Are you feeling nauseous?"

"Well…no, not really."

"Are you planning on purging?" The older boy demanded.

"No!"

"Then why don't you think you'll be able to keep them down?"

Joe paused and glared back at his brother but he didn't say anything.

Patiently - a heroic act on the part of Frank, five and a half days after being stranded with his brother – the dark-haired teen finished his argument: "I want to go fishing tomorrow…with my brother."

He didn't need to see the scowl on Joe's face to know it was there. But he ignored it and hid his own small smile when he felt the resigned sigh, rather than heard it, and Joe just said, "Fine, but on one condition…"

"Sure, anything for you, little brother," although, even as he said the words, Frank knew he'd live to regret them….

"You wear the lipstick!"

Now it was Frank's turn to scowl….