Comfort Food
Frank and Joe Hardy were sitting idly at the soda fountain in a small drugstore. It was the midst of the Great Depression, and the drugstore wasn't doing great business. Frank and Joe were two of only three people at the counter. The third was a shifty-eyed man sitting three seats away. Joe wondered if this fellow might be a visitor from another planet, but he didn't mention this to Frank, since he wasn't sure if Frank even knew the concept "visitor from another planet." That was more along Tom Swift's line of work, and of course the Hardy Boys and Tom Swift belonged to a different series of books. Joe wasn't supposed to have anything to do with Tom Swift, but he had snuck off and participated in a few Tom Swift stories anyway, under an assumed name. Tom didn't mind, but strait-laced Frank would take it amiss - or would be dumbfounded, anyway. In any event, if the character farther down the counter really was from another planet, that would be a first for a Hardy Boys mystery. People from other planets weren't allowed in Hardy Boys mysteries - at least Joe didn't think they were. Joe wondered if the man had seen him in one of Tom Swift's adventures and followed him back.
Suddenly the man spoke: "So coffee and pie is your idea of comfort food." This man's way of speaking was a bit odd, in a manner that Joe couldn't quite identify. Maybe it was the man's beginning with the word "So," as if already in mid conversation. Or the strange phrase "comfort food." The way the man wore his clothes seemed off kilter. There was nothing strange about the clothes themselves. He was in a lightweight jacket, just like Frank and Joe, but he seemed as if he were in costume.
"Comfort food?" asked Frank.
"Yeah," the man said. "Food that makes you feel comfortable, like, you know, like you're in familiar surroundings, or if you're not, the familiar food will make you feel that way. You know what I'm saying?"
Certainly from outer space, thought Joe.
Frank said, "You should meet our friend Chet. For Chet, all food is comfort food."
"Ah, Chet," said the man. "Is he the one with the hot rod?"
"Hot rod?" asked Frank.
"I mean, jalopy," the man said.
"Yes," said Frank. "How do you know Chet?"
"Oh," said the man. "I've seen him hanging out."
Joe had an image of Chet hanging out a window, with a hamburger in his hand.
The man got up and went to the register. "Well, nice talkin' to you," he said. After he left, Joe told Frank, "I'm going out too, to keep an eye on that fellow. He needs watching."
"Joe," said Frank. "Just because Father is a nationally famous detective doesn't mean that every character we meet is a criminal."
"Didn't say he was a criminal," said Joe. "Just a bit outlandish." Joe went to the register, paid, and headed to the street.
Suddenly the man spoke: "So coffee and pie is your idea of comfort food." This man's way of speaking was a bit odd, in a manner that Joe couldn't quite identify. Maybe it was the man's beginning with the word "So," as if already in mid conversation. Or the strange phrase "comfort food." The way the man wore his clothes seemed off kilter. There was nothing strange about the clothes themselves. He was in a lightweight jacket, just like Frank and Joe, but he seemed as if he were in costume.
"Comfort food?" asked Frank.
"Yeah," the man said. "Food that makes you feel comfortable, like, you know, like you're in familiar surroundings, or if you're not, the familiar food will make you feel that way. You know what I'm saying?"
Certainly from outer space, thought Joe.
Frank said, "You should meet our friend Chet. For Chet, all food is comfort food."
"Ah, Chet," said the man. "Is he the one with the hot rod?"
"Hot rod?" asked Frank.
"I mean, jalopy," the man said.
"Yes," said Frank. "How do you know Chet?"
"Oh," said the man. "I've seen him hanging out."
Joe had an image of Chet hanging out a window, with a hamburger in his hand.
The man got up and went to the register. "Well, nice talkin' to you," he said. After he left, Joe told Frank, "I'm going out too, to keep an eye on that fellow. He needs watching."
"Joe," said Frank. "Just because Father is a nationally famous detective doesn't mean that every character we meet is a criminal."
"Didn't say he was a criminal," said Joe. "Just a bit outlandish." Joe went to the register, paid, and headed to the street.