The Case of the Psychic's Vision (6 page)

When the Hardy boys saw Colin the next morning, he seemed to be in an even darker mood than he was the night before.

“What's wrong, Colin?” Frank asked when they got to English class.

“Today's the day,” Colin whispered to Frank.

Frank frowned his puzzlement. Colin looked around to see if anyone else was paying attention to them, and when he found no one was, he added, “I've been feeling it even more strongly, Frank. I know now that it's a girl. She's not who she thinks she is.”

“I know you said that, Colin, but I can't think of anyone it might be,” Frank said. “I know everybody in this school—well, maybe not everyone all that well, because there are a bunch of new kids this year—but I really do think they are who they say they are.”

“That's the point, Frank,” Colin explained. “She thinks she knows who she is, but she doesn't.”

This conversation is getting too weird,
Frank
decided. He wanted to be friends with Colin, but already some of the other guys were keeping their distance. He didn't think that was fair, but he could certainly understand.

Frank was glad when Ms. Long said that today she was just going to talk to them about British poets. He didn't particularly like British poets, but at least he wouldn't have to do group work with Colin. Frankly, he wasn't sure Colin would be able to do any group work. Frank wished that whatever was bothering Colin would surface fully, so that the problem could be solved.

It didn't take long.

As they headed out of English class, Colin bumped into Melanie Johnson.

“It's you!” Colin cried. “It's you!”

Melanie stood, mouth open, staring at Colin.

All of the students in the vicinity stopped to stare, too. Most of them knew just enough about Colin to think that he was a little bit “off,” and now he was showing them that they were right.

Frank grabbed Colin by the arm and tried to pull him away from the gathering crowd.

“No, Frank, no!” Colin said. “She's not who she thinks she is!”

Melanie had had enough time to recover and was shaking her head in disbelief.

Frank didn't know Melanie Johnson well, but he knew a lot about her. While he didn't dislike her,
he didn't particularly like her, either. Her family was one of the wealthiest in Bayport. If Melanie had wanted to, she could have attended boarding school in Europe, but she preferred to stay in Bayport for high school during the week, and party in New York City on the weekends.

“Who is this creep, Frank?” Melanie said. “A friend of yours?”

Colin was staring at Melanie. “I know what I'm talking about. You're not totally who you think you are!”

“Oh, really?” Melanie said. “Well, who am I?”

“You're—”

“What's going on here?”

Oh, great!
Frank thought.

Mr. Brooks, one of the assistant principals, had made his way through the crowd. When he saw Colin, he rolled his eyes. “Are you having a problem here, Mr. Randles?”

“He's not having a problem, Mr. Brooks,” Frank said. “It was just a misunderstanding.”

“This creep was insulting me, Mr. Brooks,” Melanie said. “I think I need to call my father and report him.”

Frank saw Mr. Brooks blanch. Not only did the Johnson family give thousands to the Bayport public schools, but Mr. Johnson was on the school board. It wouldn't do to have him mad about anything.

“There's no need to do that, Melanie,” Mr. Brooks said. “I can take care of this.”

“Well, just see that you do,” Melanie said. She tossed her long blond hair and headed down the hall, followed by her entourage of hangers-on.

Joe had now joined Frank. “What was that all about?” he said under his breath.

Frank could only roll his eyes and shake his head.

Mr. Brooks was staring at Colin. Frank was sure that the assistant principal wanted to expel Colin right then and there.

“I want you in my office right now, Colin Randles,” Mr. Brooks said. Turning to Frank and Joe, he added, “And I think the Hardy boys need to come too.”

The three of them followed Mr. Brooks down the hall toward the administrative office complex. Several students gawked at them, knowing full well what was to come.

As they stepped into Mr. Brooks's outer office, Mr. Brooks looked over at his secretary and said, “I don't want to be disturbed.”

Joe felt like telling him that he was already disturbed enough, but he knew that wouldn't be wise. Mr. Brooks was trying to earn a reputation as a hard-nosed administrator, and he was doing a really good job of it so far.

Inside his office, Mr. Brooks said, “Sit.”

There were only two chairs in front of his desk, so Frank remained standing.

Mr. Brooks took a deep breath, released it, looked straight at Colin and said, “I want to know why you were harassing Melanie Johnson.”

Colin returned his look. “I wasn't harassing her. I was trying to tell her something.”

“What were you trying to tell her?” Mr. Brooks demanded.

Colin leaned closer to Mr. Brooks. “I was trying to tell her that she was kidnapped when she was two years old!”

Mr. Brooks was so angry about what Colin had just said that he was turning purple. In fact, he looked like he was going to choke to death.

Joe glanced over at Frank and knew he was thinking the same thing. Should they try to perform CPR on the assistant principal?

Just then, a gurgling sound came out of Mr. Brooks's throat, and his color began to return to normal.

“You're nuts! You're totally nuts, Randles,” Mr. Brooks managed to say. “You should be locked up somewhere.”

“I don't think you're supposed to say things like that to students, Mr. Brooks,” Joe said. “It could probably get you in trouble.”

Frank rolled his eyes at Joe. He agreed with his brother, but he also didn't think this was the time or place to suggest that someone be politically correct.

Fortunately, Mr. Brooks either wasn't paying attention or chose to ignore Joe's comment, because he didn't take his eyes off Colin.

“I know all about your family, Randles, about how they're
psychic
and everything,” Mr. Brooks continued. The way he said “psychic” made it sound like a dirty word. “It was people like you and your family who caused problems for me and my family. This . . .
psychic
took my poor mother for almost every cent we had, telling her all kinds of things, promising her that she'd be rich, if she kept coming to the readings.” Here he took a deep breath, let it out, and through gritted teeth added, “I despise people like you!”

Wow!
Frank thought.
Does this man have an agenda or what?

Joe was amazed at how Colin simply sat there and listened, not showing any emotion whatsoever.
He's probably heard this all before,
Joe thought.

The bell rang to start the next class.

“As you know, Mr. Brooks, Colin's new in town—and this was all just a big misunderstanding,” Frank said. “You shouldn't take out your frustrations on him. Why don't you just let us go on to class and we'll make sure this doesn't happen again?”

Mr. Brooks turned to him. Frank felt like the
man was seeing him for the first time. “What?”

Frank repeated what he had said. He could tell that Mr. Brooks wanted to lash out at him, too, but seemed to realize that he had gone too far in what he had said to Colin. He looked like he was weighing his options.

Mr. Brooks picked up a pad and started writing. He handed each of the boys a slip of paper. “Tardy passes,” he said. “And if this happens again . . . well, just make sure it doesn't.” He opened a file on his desk and started reading it.

Frank motioned for Colin and Joe to follow him out. He didn't want to give Mr. Brooks a chance to rethink his decision.

When they got back to the hall, Joe let out a big sigh. “Wow! I hope that guy finds another job and fast. I can't imagine having to deal with him again.”

“Assistant principals don't stay for more than one year. They're really just principals in training,” Frank said. “Sometimes prisons hire teachers to teach the inmates. Let's hope one of those jobs opens up soon. Brooks would be perfect for it.”

They boys separated to go to their individual classes, but they agreed to meet after school to go to the Hardys' house to talk.

On the ride home, Colin was quiet as usual. Frank and Joe were busy thinking about what had happened earlier, so they weren't talking much either.

Mrs. Hardy had a big plate of cookies and cold milk ready for them. They took everything into Joe and Frank's room and shut the door. After they had each eaten a few cookies, Frank said, “Okay, Colin, first let me tell you that I believe what you said about Melanie Johnson—even if it does sound really wild.”

“I do, too, Colin,” Joe added, “but you really can't go around accosting people like that, if you want to live a normal life here in Bayport.”

Colin grinned. “I know. I know. It's just that I've had this really dark feeling ever since we've been in Bayport about
someone.
When I bumped into Melanie in the hall today, I knew immediately she was the person I ‘saw' things happening to when she was just two or three.”

Frank shook his head. “Colin, you have to understand how hard this is for people to accept,” he said. “As far as I'm concerned, you've proven yourself, but from here on out, you just have to be careful how you handle the information you receive.”

Colin nodded. “I know.”

Joe looked over at Frank. “What are we going to do about this?” he said. “We can't just forget it.”

“I know,” Frank said. “And I've been thinking about it all afternoon.”

“Well?” Joe said.

“We're going to start investigating,” Frank replied. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“That's what I was planning to do,” Joe said. “And I was hoping you'd be up for it.”

Frank looked at Colin. “We need to know everything that you've seen about Melanie,” he said. “Don't leave out any details.”

Colin took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “The first day we were in Bayport, I got this really heavy feeling. I don't know how else to describe it. I also got a terrible headache and started receiving images—well, really they were like blinding flashes—of a little girl. She wasn't more than two or three years old, and this man was carrying her out of a house. She was crying, and calling for her mother.”

“What else do you remember about the little girl?” Joe asked.

“She was holding a little stuffed lamb.” Colin hesitated for a moment. “I think the man had to go back for it. I don't think the little girl had it at first. I think the man went back for it to stop her from crying so much.”

“That's strange,” Frank said. “Kidnappers won't usually do things like that.”

“No,” Joe agreed. “They snatch a kid and are out of the place as fast as possible.”

“Anything else?” Frank said.

“That's it.” Colin leaned his head back against the edge of Joe's bed. “I might have been able to receive more images, but I kept trying to block them.”

“That's too bad,” Joe said. “We need all the clues we can get.”

“I didn't want to cause my family any more trouble, but I haven't been too successful at blocking all the images,” Colin said. “Sometimes the visions are just too strong to keep out of my head.”

“What does that mean?” Joe asked.

“It usually means that whoever I'm getting them from is under a lot of stress,” Colin replied.

Frank frowned. “Well, if Melanie is sending them, she sure didn't look like she was under a lot of stress today.”

“She may not be the only one,” Colin said. “Whoever kidnapped her may be
thinking
about what happened and I may be receiving both their thoughts. That's what could be making the signals so strong.”