The Child: Episode 9

Demanding Answers

“Sit,” the large man said — the man I formerly regarded as a friend.

“I think I’ll stand,” I countered, backing away and reaching a hand toward the boy’s shoulder.

Harlan sneered. “I wouldn’t do that.”

What right did he have to tell me stay away from the boy? I’m the one who found him. I’m the one who brought him here. It’s my job to protect him and make sure he stays safe. I touched the boy’s shoulder and the terrifying vibration of electricity shot through my arm. “Shit!” I recoiled. “What the hell was that?”

Harlan nodded to the boy who sat down. I followed suit. He poured me a glass of Talisker, plopped down on the sofa, thumbed his pipe, and lit it.

The room was a mess of scattered papers, as if a band of ghosts had sailed through, leaving a disheveled trail of literature in their wake. The grandfather clock struck midnight. We sat through all twelve chimes in silence.

A wreath of blue smoke danced above Harlan’s head as he puffed his pipe. “You were meant to come here,” he said, “but you haven’t the faintest idea who you are.”

He took a long draw, smoke escaping from the corner of his lips. Had he lost his mind? I glanced around the room, ensuring it was only the three of us. “Who I am?” I questioned, poking a finger in my own chest. Harlan nodded, keeping the orange stem clenched firmly between his teeth. “How about who he is?” I pointed at the boy.

“Engel,” the boy said. I flashed my eyes at him. It didn’t seem to bother him.

“Perhaps,” Harlan answered him. “But we’ll see if he sprouts wings or flashes his tail.” The fat man sniffed a laugh and a stream of smoke fled his nostrils.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“He thinks you’re an angel.” Harlan said, tamping his pipe. “But me… I’m not so sure.”

I downed the Talisker in one gulp and slammed the glass on the cocktail table. “You want to tell me what the hell is going on?”

Harlan snickered. His belly rolled like a pumpkin under his heavy red sweater trapped inside a corduroy jacket. “I’m not sure you’d believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

His eyes turned beady, and he leaned forward. He took another long draw from his pipe and the smoke drifted upward, trapped against the dirty ceiling.

“I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.” Again, I glanced to make sure no one was behind me. “I knew you would find him. It was only a matter of time.”

“You know this boy?” I meant it as an accusation, but I lacked confidence in it myself. The kid seemed to know Harlan, and it was obvious they could communicate. I faced the fact that I was the newcomer to this strange relationship. “How?”

“Now that is a complicated question.”

“I’ve got time.”

“Not as much as you think.”

“Dammit, Harlan!” I pounded the table. The whiskey glass jumped at the force of my fist. “Stop talking in riddles! Just tell me what this is about.”

He stood, tapped his pipe, and marched toward the door. “Let’s be going then,” he said, lifting his coat off the rack. The boy sprang up and darted to his side.

I immediately regretted letting my anger flare. “Harlan, I’m sorry. It’s after midnight. What are we going to do about this kid? I gotta get home and get to bed.”

“Your answers aren’t to be found here.”

“Where on earth would do you want me to go this hour of the night? I have to teach tomorrow morning.”

“A place you know very well.” A sincere smile bled across his cheeks as he donned his Scottish beret. “The place you came from. The place you return to almost every day.”

“And where’s that?”

“Middlebury College.”

CONTINUE THE STORY

The Child is an interactive puzzle fiction story. If you’ve stumbled onto this episode without reading the beginning, you can start at Episode One here.