CHAPTER 13: CHANGE
September 3rd
It was dark out. Harlan and Anthony sat on a log together in a clearing in the woods. Carr had a small fire going. Hilda sat nearby with the child. Harlan kept looking at him.
"Is he yours?" He asked.
"Yeah." Hilda took a breath. "Where were you?"
"Holed up in a big house on Carlysle. At least, back when it was safe."
"No, where did you go? You disappeared right after graduation, no goodbye, nothing. What happened?" Hilda coughed. Harlan looked into the fire.
"I moved. To New York City."
"Papi told us you died."
Harlan sighed and shook his head. "Of course he did."
"What happened?" Hilda held her hands together, "Harley, I haven't seen you in almost ten years." The kid silently watched Harlan, who internally flip-flopped on telling the truth.
"I went to school, I made a new life for myself up there. I guess dad didn't like that."
"That doesn't make any sense," Hilda was drilling in, "he was really proud of you."
"Really?" Harlan spat in disbelief. A small weight started forming in his stomach.
"Yeah," Hilda continued, "Then one day he told us you died in a car crash. That you were already in the ground." She sniffled and pulled her son in for a side hug, "I guess he lied to us." An uncomfortable silence fell on the group, when Harlan motioned to Hilda's son.
"What's his name?"
"Harlan."
"Yeah?"
"His name is Harlan. Junior. He's six." That weight became a boulder.
"His name is-..."
"Yeah. After you." It was Harlan's turn to tear up as he looked at his nephew.
"H-Hey buddy," he waved, the kid waved back. Carr watched this unfold from across the fire. Anthony didn't say a word.
"He's shy, kinda like you were."
Harlan laughed. "I hope he's nothing like me."
"Nonsense, we all loved you."
"Do you wanna know why dad lied?" Harlan's body stiffened as he gripped the log, feeling pieces of bark chip off in his fingers.
"Why?" Hilda listened intently as Carr stoked the fire, sending embers a few feet in the air above her silver hair. Harlan took in a lungful of the smoky forest air and grabbed Anthony's hand, pulling it close to him.
"He found out that… I'm gay." Harlan looked at Anthony, who wasn't sure if he should be smiling or concerned. "When I got to New York, someone from Rosewood must've seen me going out and-" he cut himself off. "The point is, I don't know how he found out, but I am who I am." He looked at Anthony, who was smiling. "Whether he likes it or not."
"I had a feeling." Hilda cleared her throat and pursed her lips.
"What?" Harlan's eyebrows shot up, Anthony giggled.
"You were different, noticeably different, from the other boys at school." Harlan narrowed his eyes at Hilda.
"Yeah," Carr began, perhaps treading where she shouldn't, "you never talked to anyone but Jenny, always had your face down in a book."
"I really, really don't need my English teacher on my ass about this."
"Want me on your ass?" Anthony joked. Harlan smacked his chest and rested his head in his hands, frustrated.
"I still love you, Harley." Hilda offered. He pulled his head up and pursed his lips. "I'm just happy you're alive."
"Hilda, I-" Anthony wrapped an arm around Harlan, "Thank you, I guess. I love you too."
A silence fell over the group, pockmarked by the crackling fire and punctuated by nocturnal animals calling out. They have nothing to worry about, Harlan thought to himself.
Miss Carr spoke as the flames began dying down. The sight of her reminded him of the scent of highlighters and disinfectant.
"We'll head north in the morning, we should put as much distance between us and the prison as possible."
"There's a prison?" Shock was apparent in Anthony's voice.
"Yeah, just outside town. Must've kept half the town employed." Harlan rubbed Anthony's knee.
"Well, that explains the freak show."
"It must've been horrible being locked up in there," Hilda had opened a bag of chips and passed them around, "Trapped in your cell watching everyone turn. Maybe they let them all out?"
"Thing is," Carr began, "we don't know how they got out. Could mean trouble if we run into them."
"It's also totally possible they just broke through with sheer numbers." Anthony paused to think for a moment, "How big is that prison anyway?"
"Couple hundred souls, or the shell that's left over." Carr poked at the fire, knocking the logs apart. One of them fell near Harlan's bag. "Got any food on you?" Harlan held up a finger and fetched a couple cans of spaghetti bolognese.
"Gourmet-style." He tossed one to Carr, another to Hilda, and kept the third for himself and Anthony. Dinner was depressing, quiet, but filling. Carr laid out a sleeping bag for Hilda and her son, the rest were going to have to rough it on the ground. Harlan offered to take watch first.
The night was, mercifully, uneventful.