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“I have to go, Bron.”
“Please, please take me with you. You know what’ll happen if you leave me here. I can’t be without you.”
“Bron, come on, you have to stop this. Not in front of my parents—”
“Please, please.”He remembered grabbing him. By the arm. Pulling into him. Holding him so tightly he couldn’t escape. Another hug. Just one more hug.
“Bron, stop!”Harry had said, panicked.“Bron, my parents are coming. You have to get off me. Get off me!”
“You’re leaving because I kissed you, aren’t you? You’re leaving because of me?”
“Bron, I said shut up!”Harry pushed him away.
Harry’s parents had walked in.“What are you boys blabbering about? Harry, we’ve got to go or Daddy’s going to be late for his appointment.”
Bron stood marooned on an island, the raft being pulled from its string without his clinging to safety. Harry who took his eyes off him and looked at his parents, at his suitcase, and then one last glance at him.
“Don’t worry, Mom. I’m ready.”
“Is your friend okay?”
The way their eyes bore into him, like he was wrong, like he was filthy.
“Yes, he’s fine.”
Harry who shoved the remainder of his things into the suitcase, messing up all Bron’s carefully folded clothes as though he didn’t exist. Like he was nothing. No look had hurt more than Harry’s last look, a quick glance back and a shy little wave that together with“Bye, Bron”would be the last he’d see or hear from him.
At some point, he’d fallen asleep. Awoken by Captain’s barking down the hall, he raised his head. The alarm clock read three thirty in a reddish glow. His first instinct was to ignore it, but then he heard the quick footsteps that accompanied the bark, and already he was pulling on his dressing gown.
When he opened the door, the knob jammed in his hands. He tried to pull it open, but still it wouldn’t budge. Had he been locked in? He felt a sudden rise of panic. Who would’ve done that? Would it help for him to scream or to bang on the door and demand to be let out? He rattled it again, suddenly sweaty, and beat on the door with his palms. He stepped back when the brass knob twisted of its own accord, and the door swung open. Darcy stood behind it.
“What in God’s name are you doing?” he said. “You’ll wake the whole house.”
“I—I thought I’d been locked in.”
“It was the mechanism sticking. It helps to push against the frame when that happens. I’m surprised it hasn’t happened before.” Darcy shook his head. “Locked in by whom?”
He swallowed. “Nobody.”
Darcy grunted before spinning around and continuing left, down the landing and toward the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Bron asked, following behind him.
“Out. I don’t have time to talk.”
“Are you just going to pawn me off like you do Ada? I think you should find the time to talk, Darcy. There are things that need attention here.”
At the bottom of the stairs, Darcy pulled his jacket off the coat stand, quickly shrugged into it. “Whatever do you mean?”
Bron paused on the bottommost step. “Ada needs you—she’s not coping,” he said. “She’s worried—about everything. She thinks you’ll send her away to some school.”
“And what if I must? I don’t see how any of this concerns you.”
“How it concerns me? I care for her, Darcy, above other things. And what about me, huh? I depend on your family for money. It’s myjob. Have you ever thought of that? And what about us, what’s happened to—”
“Us?” Darcy spat, turning to him. “Bron, do you think for one second I’ve had time to think about us? There are much bigger things happening here that I need to take care of.”
Bron felt this like a punch to his stomach. “What, so you’re just going to up and leave?” He felt the swell of anger inside of him. Not this again. Not this. There were always much bigger things, more important things than he. And he felt it, Darcy slipping away between his fingers. What would happen to him then? He’d be left to fend for himself. Again. And Ada, what would happen to her? Would she end up at a place like St. Mary’s just as he had done? He couldn’t allow it.
