Chapter 16!
Thanks for the kindly reviews!
LOL! Franknjoe - am I glad you don't think like Kempton, or I would be worried.
And thanks too - I'm afraid I've been enjoying baby shopping a little too much.
Yup, we're back to action again by the end of this chapt. Hope this chapt's not as draggy as the last.
Pls leave a line if its worth the next bit :)
Tukkie: Sent all chapters over as you request :) Hope you like it, and sorry it took so long. Ta-da! Hope you like the ending. Don't think I'd do another present-request-writing for a while. cheers and enjoy!
WHEN IT RAINS IT POURS
Chapter Sixteen
-o-
Frank Hardy was leading the way to the private guest lounge on the top floor of Bayport Memorial. He and his parents were all feeling rather tensed and more than a little nervous.
It's been twenty four hours since the three of them were banished from Joe's room by Dr. Barton. She was disappointed with them, and in all honesty, Frank could not fault her for that. They had been selfish. They pushed Joe too hard and too fast.
Joe remembered, and then shut down.
And he forgot.
Everything.
Joe woke up asking for his parents – Michael and Michelle Black.
After he accepted the fact that they were dead, he asked for 'Uncle Simon'.
'Uncle Simon', or Simon Leron, was the Blacks family lawyer and also a close family friend. His friendship with Michael Black went back to the high school days.
And Simon Leron was now a little upset with them.
Actually, 'a little upset' was an understatement.
Leron had dropped everything and rushed down to the hospital the moment he was informed by Dr. Barton what happened. After a quick briefing with Dr. Barton, he confronted the Hardys and made it clear in no uncertain terms that he felt his trust in the Hardys had been misplaced. He also stressed that he expected the doctors' orders to be strictly enforced this time – or else.
That was a bitter pill to swallow, to have an outsider telling them to put Joe's well-being as a priority.
That was also why the family had not contested the doctor's orders that they would not be seeing Joe until he asks for them.
"At least we know that 'Uncle Simon' will take good care of Joe," was all Fenton said before he ushered his family home to rest. "And he's more than capable…"
Frank acknowledged reluctantly his father was right. Simon Leron had served ten years with the Israelite military before returning to the United States to study Law at Yale. He worked part-time at a supervisory level at a local security company to put himself through law school. It was clear to Frank from the way Leron handled everything he genuinely cared for Joe. By the time Leron arrived at Bayport Police department, both Michael and Michelle Black were already dead. It was past ten at night, but he still made it his priority to see to Joe's health and safety. He insisted on a nutshell briefing of what happened from the officer in charge of the case before heading directly down to the hospital. He had Joe moved from the semi-private ward to the first-class ward on the top floor of Bayport Memorial. The Blacks could more that afford the bill, he said. Plus Joe would need both the privacy and the security, he added, referring not only to Andrew Kempton, but also to the host of reporters gathered at the hospital gates. He took the time to check out the Hardy's claims despite the fact that it was almost midnight. He listened to them and looked at the photographs provided. He studied the birth certificates and called up an old contact to request for verification. And then he took Joe's prints and insisted that Frank and Fenton accompanied him back to Bayport PD so he could personally compare all the prints to those on police record. He rang up and questioned both Chief Freeman and ex-chief Collig about the Hardys. He asked for the Kempton files so that he could assess the nature of the threat Joe faced, which Fenton was more than happy to provide. Finally, he checked with the doctors before agreeing to let the Hardys stay with Joe. It was dawn before Leron retired to a hotel to rest.
They still have to track Andrew down, Fenton pointed out to Frank when his son appeared reluctant to leave. Furthermore, Laura looked like she's going to collapse where she stood. And Joe clearly had enough to worry about, without having to worry over the welfare of his family when he remembers, Fenton reasoned. So they all went home to rest and wait for the doctors to call them.
And they did.
Actually, it was Simon Leron who called them that morning.
"Joe would like to meet you, could you come down, say, at ten?" he asked. "We'll meet in the private guest lounge. We need to talk before that."
Of course they could! So they rushed down to the hospital, and Simon Leron met them at the private guest lounge just several doors away from Joe's room.
"He remembers us?" Laura blurted out that question the moment she saw Leron.
Leron's expression was surprisingly gentle.
"No," he said, and Laura's face fell.
As did Frank and Fenton's.
"Then why? How?" Frank was curious, since Dr. Barton said that she would not agree to Joe seeing them unless he asked for them.
"I told him," Leron answered. "That he still has a family, and that his biological family had been looking for him for the last six years and would like to see him."
Frank was surprised. He had not expected Leron to do them that favor. He was expecting Leron to just wait for Joe to remember for himself, which Frank had feared, might take forever.
"Joe blanked out a lot of things. Dr. Barton said it was just a mechanism to cushion the mind from the intensity of the emotional turmoil. I agreed with her," Leron started to explain. "But Joe also remembered a lot, and I do not believe that those screwed up half remembered memories are good for him."
Simon Leron gestured for them to take a seat before continuing. "I know from my time in the war zone that it is never healthy to indulge in illusions. It almost always led to more problems in the long run. That was why I disagreed with Dr. Barton regarding Joe's treatment. I know Joe for six years, and I've always considered him a strong character. I believe that he could cope with the facts, as long as I don't dump them all on his lap at one go."
"Dr. Barton disapproved of course," Leron shrugged. "But she doesn't know Joe the way I do."
"I didn't tell him everything," Leron gave them a wry smile. "There are some things that he will have to remember on his own. It's better that way. But I believe there are some facts that he should know. For instance, he should know that he is in no way related to the Kemptons and that his parents and Maria's death had nothing to do with him whatsoever and were the works of a nutcase. And he should know that he still has a family out there who had been looking for him."
Frank blinked back his tears. What Simon Leron did went far beyond what he expected.
"Thanks," Frank said.
"But he didn't remember us…?" Laura asked again, this time, her tone more curious than nervous.
"No, not yet. But he knows." Leron shook his head, and then added. "I only gave him some basic facts. That he has an elder brother, Frank, who currently works as a homicide detective for the Bayport Police Department, and father, Fenton, who is a respectable private investigator, and a mother, Laura, who volunteers for the local Red Cross."
A normal family with very respectable professions and a far cry from the Kemptons, Frank thought. He suddenly realized what Leron did, and his respect for that man went up several notches.
"Thank you," Frank told Leron, more gratefully this time. "We won't undo what you did," Frank promised. "We'll work on getting him to feel comfortable with us and let him remember in his own time."
"That's what I hope to hear," Leron responded with a smile, a genuine one this time. "If you'd just wait a while, I'll let Joe knows you're here."
The Hardys nodded and waited.
Five minutes later, Simon Leron closed the door behind them, and they were in the room with Joe. Just them, a family…
Frank could not help that indrawn breath as his brother's blue eyes settled on him. There was a short moment he thought he saw something flickered in those depths, and then it was gone, as if it was never there.
It was an awkward few minutes. No one quite knew what to say.
"Hi," he finally offered rather lamely.
Joe smiled a little.
"Please," his brother said. "Take a seat."
They did.
It was sort of sad, all that awkwardness and silence. But they really do not want a repeat of what happened the last time.
"Thanks for agreeing to meet us," Laura finally said.
Frank held his breath, hoping that it wasn't the wrong thing to say.
The faint smile disappeared off Joe's face. He looked away. And then…
"I'm sorry," Joe said softly. "I'm sorry I don't remember."
The tone was sad, regretful.
"We're happy we found you," Laura said, and there was clearly no mistaking the joy and love in her voice. "And we're so thankful that you're well..."
The smile returned to Joe's face, if a little tentative.
"Thanks…" he said, before adding, "thanks, Mom."
The joy on Laura's face was a sight to behold.
"Can I… can I hug you?" Laura asked softly, and then held her breath hopefully.
Joe hesitated a moment before nodding.
Frank could see that while Joe let Laura hug him, his brother was not very comfortable with that level of physical contact either.
"Thanks," Laura said wiping away her tears.
"You're welcome," Joe replied.
There was another moment of silence.
"Is that your works?" Frank finally asked as his eyes spied on a pile of sketchbooks laid out carelessly on the other side of Joe's bed.
"Yes."
"Can I…" Then Frank caught his father's eyes. "Can we have a look?" Frank amended his original intended request.
It was a while before Joe nodded, then reached for the first of his sketchbooks.
He and his parents spent the next twenty minutes just going through the drawings. They spent the next twenty minutes simply enjoying each other's company.
And those sketches were good, Frank admitted. As good as the few limited edition comic strips that Joe collected as a teenager.
Then a hospital staff arrived with a lunch tray.
It was healthy food, better than what one gets in the general ward below, but its still low-fat, healthy food.
"Would you like me to pop down and get you something else?" Frank asked before he could stop himself. The brother he remembered never like hospital food.
Joe looked surprise, and then there was this glint in his eyes. Frank smiled. How he missed that glint that promised mischief!
"You'll have to get past that ogre standing guard by the lift," Joe warned, and then added. "Uncle Simon said that's an impossible task."
"There's something called the fire escape and a little bit of teamwork," Frank countered. "Dad will help – won't you?"
Fenton groaned.
Joe chuckled. It was a pleasant sound.
"So, what would you like?" Frank asked, ignoring his mother's mocked horrified expression. "Double steak burger with extra cheese?"
He was surprised to see Joe's expression turned somber.
"I used to like that." Joe commented, and then his expression turned sad.
"Then Mom fell sick. She couldn't eat a lot of things. I took up several cooking classes just so that I could make nice edible healthy food. I prepared most meals, and we ate together. Most days, she just didn't have the appetite, but she tried to eat what she could, because I made them…"
It wasn't hard to tell how close Joe was to Michelle Black.
"Sort of got used to the low-fat and high fiber diet over the months…" Joe continued as he reached for the photo frame on the little shelf next to him. "I don't think the grease sits well with me anymore…"
Joe turned and looked at them one by one.
"Whoever I was, I don't remember," he said. "And I don't think I could go back to being that person…"
"Joe…" Frank started.
"They're my family too…" Joe continued as if Frank never spoken, his fingers gently tracing the faces of Michael and Michelle Black in the photograph. "I'm sorry…"
"Of course they are your family," Laura cuts in firmly. "They will always be your family."
She reached over for one of Joe's hands, and waited till she got the eye contact. "Just like we are your family…and we'll always be your family… Nothing can change that. Nothing…"
"I know," Joe finally said.
They lapsed into another uncomfortable silence.
Then Joe spoke up, if a little hesitantly. "I'm sorry… but I need…"
Frank stood up. He knew what his brother needed. As do his parents. Poor Joe did look rather pale and tired.
Fenton tore a page from his notebook and scribbled down all their phone numbers. It felt better that way, more familial than handing out name cards. "These are our numbers," he said to Joe. "Call us if you need anything, anything at all."
"I will," Joe said. "Dad."
"And thanks," Frank added – for agreeing to see them.
And they turned to leave, if albeit reluctantly.
"Frank?"
Frank turned around, a hopeful feeling in his heart.
"My cell phone number," Joe said holding up a piece of paper.
He took it, feeling a little happier.
"Can we visit tomorrow?" Frank asked.
Joe thought for a moment before shaking his head.
"I'm sorry," he answered a little regretfully, staring down at the photograph in his hands. "I need some time and space to sort things out. And there are things that I have to do…I'll let you know when I'm ready…"
"I understand," Frank said, but he could not help feeling a little disappointed.
"Frank?"
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry."
"There's nothing to be sorry about, Joe."
"Thanks… bro… I just want to say, I may not remember, but I know… that we were close."
Frank's eyes misted. He had a feeling everything would be all right.
He nodded. Then he turned and followed his parents out of the door.
-o-o-0-o-o-
I watched them walked out of my room.
They seemed happier than when they walked in.
I did what I set out to do.
I looked down at the photograph on my lap. Again I felt the weight of grief pressing down on me. For six years, they were my family. And now they were gone.
Dead.
Murdered.
By Andrew Kempton.
How could two men cause so much death and destruction? I wondered. And why me?
Because you are born under the bad luck star, something in me whispered.
I laughed quietly. That I am.
"I'm so sorry, Mom, Dad…" I said to the picture in my hands. "But I promise I'll get Andrew Kempton. He won't get away for what he did. There will be justice…"
And then I bowed over and cried, my lunch forgotten.
Twenty-four hours later, I was checking out of the hospital. I followed Uncle Simon back to his hotel. My house on The Point was apparently still officially a crime scene. He got me a room next to his.
Later that day, I sneaked out of my room and 'borrowed' Uncle Simon's rented car. I drove all the way back to my house on The Point.
It was dark and quiet. But it was my home.
I made my way to the crumbling lighthouse, and slowly made my way to the top.
There, alone, I let loose my grief and bawled at my loss. I remembered again all the happy years with Mom and Mike, and the pain of losing them both.
And there, alone, I let go of my mask of indifference, and remembered the family I knew I still have and their obvious love for me. Up here in my crumbling lighthouse, I imagined them hugging, loving and comforting me.
And alone I apologized to Vanessa, who must surely be heart-broken to learn that I forgot about her.
That really was for best.
But too many people have been mortally hurt on my account.
That is why I am alone now. So that no one else will get hurt on my account again. No one else will die because they came to care for me. I was once Joe Hardy. A series of happenings made me Joe Black. Black is for elegance and style. But I turned that elegance into tragedy and mourning. I am now Joe Black. That is what I am – Black. I am born under the bad luck star.
So I sat there a long time, alone in my very own old and crumbling lighthouse perch atop a cliff overlooking the Great South Bay, pretending that it was okay to be alone.
I sat there a long time, thinking of ways to find Andrew Kempton and to bring him to justice.
Then I realized how far wrong and deluded I was.
Andrew Kempton would never let me go. He would never let those around me go.
My cell phone rang – to me it felt that the ringing was almost ominous.
I looked at the caller ID.
It was Fenton Hardy. Dad.
A really bad feeling invaded my guts.
But I picked up the phone in trepidation.
"Joe! Thank God you're all right. Where are you?!"
Fenton's voice was almost frantic.
"Frank, Callie and Vanessa are all missing…"