I wrote this story several years ago. It is published at the Hardy Detective Agency site. The story is about the Hardy Boys, not Freddie. I hope you enjoy it.
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Twas the night before Christmas on Elm Street.
By Ria

Snowflakes fluttered downward from the grayish sky in Bayport. The storm had reached the little town early that night, as it tore the wintery weather. The lakes had frozen overnight, creating a wonderful frozen rime with happy couples skating. The darkened clouds surrounded the town, as the storm?s mighty strength sweep over. The fluttering snowflakes drew to a massive snowbound sight as the snow battered against the chilly wind and the houses below.
The houses on the street of Elm, stood glittering with frozen icicles emerging with the colorful lights and decorations. A Santa stood upon a chimney, as he moved his arm in a friendly hello and a ?Ho, Ho, Ho? escaping his plastic mouth. A group of lighted Christmas trees stood on the lawn, with their lights twilighting the darkness. Another home featured the normal plastic reindeer, and the family?s decorations of long ago. The third home remained undecorated, yet had the lights of the faithful menorah on its windowsill.
By the street?s lights, only one home stood apart, its decorations hung, a wreath hung on the door, and the Snowman holding a magnify glass. Many strange and exciting things happened in that house. Some say, that often they saw people entering the home but left escorted by the county police. Strange sounds came during the nights as cars chased each other. Or when an old woman?s screaming echoed through the dawns? early light. Sometimes she could be seen holding a dishpan ready to strike.
The family that lived in that home was a typical normal bunch. Or where they?
Tonight, was not different than any other night, a police car drove away from that home on Elm Street. As the door closed behind the departing vehicle, a young man?s brown hair swayed with the snowstorm?s blustery weather. The young man entered the home; the cold weather caused him to shiver. Was it the cold? Or was it something else. Something triggered inside this man, as thoughts ripped through his mind. He walked towards the quiet living room floor, and carefully started a fire in the fireplace. Two other figures sat in the cushioned sofa, one held a book. The young man stood upwards as the gentle yellow glow masked his handsome features. A soft human voice distracted his thinking.
?Can you read me it again? Please!? the little sound had come from the third person in the room.
?Ok! Kid!? came the reply.
?Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse, the stockings where hung with care, in hopes of Saint Nicholas soon will be there?.? the voice of Joe Hardy filled the rooms? quiet atmosphere.
Joe Hardy smiled as a little boy snuggled closer to him, as he read the book. Joe looked at his brother, who had sat in the loveseat, now listening to the story too.
Joe began to read again..? With Frank in his pajamas, and I in my sweats, we were ready for a long winters nap?
A giggle escaped the child. ?That is not how it goes!? Frank let out a laugh, ?The kid got you there, little bro!?
?Yes, he did!? Joe said to the child sitting next to him. A smile spread across his face.
Frank Hardy smiled at the boy, his little frame reminded him of his own childhood years, when he was ill. The little boy in front of him was frail, with reddish-blond hair, and blue eyes that shined through his glasses. He must be at least six! He told himself.
?Uh.. Joe, why don?t we go to the Kitchen and fix some hot chocolate,? As he then turned to the little boy.? And have some of Aunt Gertrude?s gingerbread cookies!? The boy nodded enthusiastically.
Frank and Joe entered the warm cozy kitchen; they could hear the wind gushing outside. What a terrible night! Frank went to the cupboard and took out the chocolate.
?So, what did the police say?? Joe?s voice filled the quiet kitchen.
?Shh! Joe! He night hear you!? Frank walked briskly across the kitchen and opened the door, the little boy stood by the Hardy?s Christmas tree, admiring the ornaments. He then closed the door again, and turned to Joe.
?Nothing! they said that they will search and if anything comes up, the Chief will inform us at once.?
?Poor kid.? Joe stated.? I wish he could tell us what happened to him.?
Frank did not reply, he just nodded grimly. He recalled how he and Joe were driving in the blizzard, when Frank saw the child wandering in front of the car, he swayed the car sideways, not hurt the child. Frank had gotten out of the car and remembered picking up the child to shield him from the cold. The boy neither wore a hat or even a coat. As Frank sat in the car with the heater on full, Joe had searched the neighborhood for the child?s family. But no-one knew the child, nor knew where the child had come from. The child was a mystery. After several hours of a dead end search, Frank drove home. Making sure the child was not frozen or had suffered any injury, Frank called the authorities. The police had no information on the child, there were no missing child reports. Despite the storm, there were no accidents. Thankfully, the child was allowed to remain in the Hardy household til tomorrow morning, Christmas Day! Frank wished he could help this child. He had to do something! Anything!
?Come on, Joe.? Frank gathered the freshly made Cocoa, as Joe brought the gingerbread cookies. When they entered the living room, the child saw them and gave a smile.
Frank settled the cocoa on the table, and handed the child the largest gingerbread cookie.
?Here you go?. Uhh? Frank had just realized that he never got the child?s name!
The child smiled, ? It?s Nicholas Hardy, they call me Nicky for short.?
Joe and Frank stood in agast, Hardy! The boy had the same name as theirs! But Frank was sure; they were the only Hardys in Bayport. He was sure! The phone interrupted the silence that had covered the room. Joe went to answer it.
?So, ? Frank asked his new friend? Do you live around here? Are your parents near by?? The child stood before him, his smile changed to a heartbreaking look. Frank realized that he had made a mistake; maybe this was still too close to the incident. What this child endeavored must had been tough.
?Does St. Nick come here?? Nicky asked.
?St. Nick?? Frank said, then he realized what the child meant.? Oh! You mean Santa Claus!?
?Of course Santa Claus comes here! I got a list twice as long as Franks!? Joe interrupted as he entered the living room.
?That was Dad. He, Mom and Aunt G. are stuck in NY City, the Storm has no trains leaving Penn Station. So they booked at The Plaza overnight. I told them we have a little mystery here. Dad said that they will try to come as soon as the roads are clear.?
Joe then smiled, ?Aunt Gertrude is red as Santa?s suit! She wanted to do the annual Hardy Gingerbread house tonight.?
Frank smiled. ?Poor Aunt G.?
Joe then turned to Nicky, ?So, want to make a list? So Santa can leave you something under the tree!?
Nicky smiled, ?OK!? Joe went to the den, got a piece of paper and a pencil. Then returned and handed them to Nicky.
Nicky sat by the warmth of the fire, and begun to write his letter.
Frank walked over to Joe, who was humming ?Jingle Bells.? He grabbed Joe by the arm and took him to the kitchen.
?Joe! Are you mad! Santa Claus! Why you do that!? Frank said.
Joe looked at his brother. ?What? You wrote Santa letters too you know!?
?That?s not it Joe, but if you can recall, tonight is Christmas Eve! Santa comes on Christmas Eve, and Nicky is going to wake up tomorrow and run to the tree and see it.. EMPTY !? Frank said seriously. ?And if you know, all the Toy Stores are closed tonight! How are we going to get the toys? What if asks for a Playstation 2??
Joe Hardy looked confused then his face changed to serious, to panic. He didn?t want to ruin the Christmas for the child; he was having a devastating one as it was. Joe felt stupid, but then a little light bulb went off his head.
?Joe! Frank! I finished! Where are you?? came the sound of Nicky from the living room.
He sounded a little scared, Joe thought. Immediately Joe and Frank entered the cozy living room. Nicky stood by the tree. He had put Santa?s letter on the stem, which also had a little Angel ornament. Frank remembered that he had made that ornament in Elementary, when he had gotten sick. The Angel made him feel better, he remembered now. How scared he was. How is family looked at him everyday that year, with fear, sorrow and love in their eyes.
?Let me see that letter.? Joe said. Joe walked near the tree and Nicky?s nicely written letter.
Joe began to read out loud. ? Dear Santa, All I want for Christmas is a small red fire truck. But most of all is to spend time with my family. I miss them. Thank you Santa for brining Frank and Joe to me. Love Nicky.?
Joe smiled, an overwhelming feeling overflowed in his body. ?That is a great Santa letter! But should you not be in bed? Santa is looking down you know! You better watch out! You better not fall, cause the Snow Bunny is coming to town!? At this Nicky fell into giggles, to which Frank joined and Joe followed.
Frank then suggested, ?Nicky, why don?t you sleep in my room, it is cozy. And near the staircase, so you may hear Santa!? Nicky nodded. Frank took the child in hand and guided him. He gave Nicky one of his old Pajama sets. They were a little big on the boy, but it would keep him warm.
?Frank? Can you read me the book again? Please!? Nicky asked Frank. He realized that the child really wanted the company, so Frank went to the living room to retrieve the book. Joe was nowhere in sight. Frank shrugged and went back to his room, sat next to Nicky and started to read.

Joe Hardy stood in a mess. ?Gracious!? he said to himself. ?Mom is going to kill me, but I got to find it!? Joe stood in the middle of the attic, as several boxes looked as the had exploded. Joe started to look more; he knew that it was in there somewhere, buried in the pile of his old things, he was too old for it now. He then spotted something red! YES! It was there! Joe dug out the red fire truck. His Dad had given him the red fire truck, long ago. Something about the truck was special, but he could not remember. But he found it!
Joe remembered that faithful Christmas morning, when an 7 yr old Frank woke him up. ?Joe. Hurry! Santa came! He came!? Joe sprang from the bed. He and Frank galloped down the stairs. He had run to the tree, and the first thing he had unwrapped was the Fire Truck, it gleamed and sparkled. There was a note with it, but Joe didn?t remember what it wrote. Joe had stashed the note in the truck. He had looked at Frank. Frank had gotten his detective kit. But Joe, only wanted Frank for Christmas, there would be no Christmas without Frank, without family.
Joe silently walked out of the door, down the stairs, and silently put a red bow on the Fire Truck, and hid in under the Christmas tree. Joe grinned. ?There!?
Returning back upstairs he stumbled on Frank who was coming out of the room with a yawn. ?He finally fell asleep.? Joe could only nod. He was tired. Frank went to sleep in the guestroom, as Joe entered his own room. He went right to bed. As his face fell on the pillow, he was sound asleep.
Suddenly a sound echoed above Joe. Then another ?bump? followed. Joe sat up. Did he forget to close the attic door? He recalled that he had closed it. A third ?bump? followed. Joe sat straight up. ?Someone is outside! They are trying to break in!? Joe?s mind raced. Assassins! Not tonight! No! it?s Christmas!
Frank ran into his room at that second, ?Joe, did you hear that? I sprang from my bed to see what?s the matter.? Frank?s answer was a small nod.
Joe gave out a small giggle. ?Frank, How many times did you read that book??
?Five? Frank retorted.
A bumping sound came from downstairs. Frank?s eyes wided. ?They are in the house!?
Joe sprang out of bed, slowly opened the closet and grabbed his baseball bat. ?Let?s go.?
Frank and Joe walked towards the staircase. Frank could hear someone walking downstairs. Then a crashing sound came, Joe almost jumped.
They had to get down there, and surprise the intruder. Frank and Joe slowly walked down the stairs as they heard another sound coming from the left. Frank nodded towards the living room. Joe got his bat ready for a good strike. Ready for aim, Frank saw a shadow in the living room. It looked huge, ?probably a male,? he thought, ?six ft? ?
Giving the signal, Frank switched the lights, as Joe gave a yell, and ran into the living room, armed with the bat. Joe gave a baseball hit to the intruder?s knees, which caused him to fall over, covering his face by the living room carpet.
?Get up, you Assassin!? Joe yelled at the intruder.
Frank was starring at the intruder, he was overweight, and wearing a red coat, black knee high boots, and a red hat. A burglar! Someone who had target the Hardy home. The intruder groaned. He held a hand up.
?Good? Joe thought.? He is going to surrender!?
The intruder slowly staggered up, Frank finally saw the intruder?s face. ?No, it was an imposter,? he was sure.? Was he?? Then his face turned white. He could not believe it. He turned to Joe. Joe too had turned white.
?Joe, do you see who I see?? Frank said, his voice small as a child?s.
Joe just stood there, his knees weak. Joe looked at the intruder, the intruder looked at the Hardys. He too looked perplexed.
Joe stumbled to speak, ?He does exist!? then he felt his knees buckle beneath him as he fell to the floor.
The intruder also spoke, ?They do exist!? as the red suited man fell down to the floor.
?Great! ?Frank said.? The Hardys just killed Santa! We murdered Christmas!?
Frank then heard another groan. Santa had woken up and was already standing up. He smiled at Frank. ?Merry Christmas Frank.? he said in a whisper, then he put a finger to his nose and gave a wink. Frank smiled, but then he realized that he was falling, down, to the floor. Frank closed his eyes, as darkness surrounded him.

?Frank! Frank!? a sound echoed through his head, the voice sounded like Dad?s! Frank groggily opened his eyes. Fenton Hardy was grinning.
?You must had fallen asleep!? Frank looked around; Joe was sleeping on the couch. He was on the loveseat. ?How did you get home?? Frank asked his father.
?The storm was bad, but then it stopped, by a miracle, the roads opened and here we are. Your Mother didn?t want to spent Christmas without you and Joe.? Fenton said. Frank smiled, then he turned to where Joe was sleeping, Aunt Gertrude was trying to wake him up.
?Santa?? Joe said, as his eyes were still shut.
?I?m not Santa! You hooligan!? Aunt Gertrude said. ?Wake up!? She nudged Joe, to which he toppled from the couch and fell on the floor. Frank heard Laura Hardy?s sweet laughter.
Frank looked at his watch, it was midnight!
Joe got up. ?Frank? What happened?? He looked at his brother. Had he seen what he had? Or was it all a dream.
Frank nodded to Joe as he signaled him to remain quiet. If they told their parents what occurred that evening, Laura Hardy would put thermometers in their mouths to check for fevers. Frank was sure on that. But did it, happen? Did he see the guy in red? Or was he?.
Frank?s thoughts were interrupted by Fenton?s voice.
?How did Nicky?s Red Fire Truck get down here?? Fenton said.
Frank was perplexed. Nicky! He was here! He remembered now! Frank stormed up the stairs, and sprang into his room. Frank stopped short. No-one was sleeping in his bed. Frank starred at; did he imagine the boy too? He turned and walked slowly down the stairs.
Seeing Frank?s perplexed face, Joe instantly understood. Nicky was not in Frank?s bed.
?What is going on here boys?? Laura Hardy said. ?And please answer your father?s question.?
Frank looked at Joe, they had to tell them, everything! He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. But then Joe began the tale, would they believe them?
Joe started the story, ?Nicky was here and wanted the toy, I went up to the attic, retrieved it and put it under the Christmas tree.?
Frank saw Aunt Gertrude?s face turn to a sad smile, then she turned and went to the kitchen. Laura Hardy followed.
Fenton walked over to Joe, as he put his arm around his son. ?Joe, you must have been dreaming, Nicky passed away forty years ago. He died when he was six, it was Christmas Eve.?
Joe stared at his father; he then walked to the tree, and picked up the red Fire Truck. He opened the hose door, he remembered putting the white paper there. Joe read the piece of paper. He then turned to his father. Yes, Dad, it was a dream.?
Frank was starring at Joe, as Fenton gave his son a hug, and went to the kitchen.
Joe walked towards the window, and starred into the stars above. Joe now remembered that Christmas Day, when he found the Fire Truck under the Tree. He had gotten the Fire Truck, when he was six, to be brave for Frank, and love of Family.
Frank walked to Joe. Joe said nothing, but gave Frank the note. Frank looked at the note. It was Nicky?s letter to Santa! It was worn and gotten a little torn, but it was indeed the same letter.
?He got his wish Frank.? Joe said. ?He got the truck for Christmas, and he got to be with his family.?
Frank smiled. ?Yes, he did Joe.?
Frank looked out the window as the snow had begun to fall once more.
?Frank! Listen!? Joe said.
Frank turned his head, did he hear the sound! Yes, it was the sound of jingle bells, and they were coming from up above. ?Could it be??? Frank thought to himself. ?Nawww.. Then again??
His thoughts were broken by the sound from the kitchen.
?Who ate all of my Gingerbread!? The angry sound came from Aunt Gertrude.
Joe and Frank looked at each other. They both turned and ran swiftly up the stairs two by two as they uttered.
?Merry Christmas to all and to All a good night!?

<font color="#051E50" size="1">[ December 25, 2005 08:01 PM: Message edited by: AGTeacher ]</font>