Tortus Bay

2.09: A Midnight Picnic, and Other Schemes

Henry tried to marshal his thoughts. Order them, to make some sort of sense. The further he traveled in time from what he witnessed on the Festival, the less real it felt. How could it have been real? People flying. Wolves in the park. A storm that hadn't really existed. Whenever he allowed himself to sit on the memory the logical center of his mind kept insisting that it was all somehow a show, and that he needed to leave before whatever cruel play he'd found himself in progressed any further. Every other part of him told him that it was all real. Then there was the matter of his inevitable arrest, the reality of a dead man walking around town, and Niles. It all swirled together into an aching ball of anxiety in his gut.

Distraction was the only way to deal with it. The Anderson was a hive of constant activity, as the four quasi-resident artists prepared for their upcoming exhibit. Jason, the bald man who painted the mural of the boy with the cigar, spent most of his time fretting about how light was going to hit the back wall. Hiro, the man with more hair than he knew or cared to deal with, worked frantically to get his newest leatherworks ready in time for the show. Jessica didn't show up much, and when she did she seemed distracted.

Henry helped them clear and scrub the floor, store the supplies, and set up showcases for the finished work. There was always something more to do. It was exhausting work on an already exhausted body, but he was happy to be doing it.

Leia showed up on the morning of his second day there. She wore a plain black sweatshirt instead of her usual uniform, and a pair of shades rested on her head. Her lips were pursed tight. "I still can't find your boy," she announced, by way of general greeting.

"While I do find him handsome," Kara said, pausing in her task of dragging a barrel out back, "that hardly makes him 'my boy.' Both parties have to be interested to make that work." In the background the other three artists continued on with their own projects unperturbed, not even bothering to look up.

"Be that as it may, you still know him the best around here."

Henry watched from the rafters, where his hosts had been kind enough to provide him with a blanket and a thermos for such occasions. He made a mental note to ask for a pair of binoculars next time. On the floor, Kara shrugged. "I already told you where he's staying. You didn't find him there?"

"Obviously not."

"Then he must have left the village."

Leia was silent for a moment. "Could he?"

"Don't tell me you're becoming a believer. I have a nifty tracking talisman on sale right now."

"You know I hate it when you start talking cryptic," the sheriff said. She sighed, and took a look around the warehouse as though seeing it for the first time. "But I suppose that's the point. The place looks nice. It was the right call, pulling out of the community center. I want to know if Henry shows himself around here."

He waited a few minutes after the door fell shut behind her, before clambering down and helping Kara hoist the barrel. "How illegal do you think it is to hide from the police?" he asked. "On a scale from misdemeanor to felony."

"You don't want me to answer that. How illegal do you think it is to knowingly conceal a wanted criminal?"

"I haven't committed any crimes. Unless you count the hiding."

"Somehow I think they will. Are you sure all of this is worth it?"

"I can't let her dig up Emmaline yet. Not until I know what will happen. Not until I can talk to Clair." They hauled the barrel outside, and dumped its waste water out on the parking lot. It puddled in the cracks of the broken pavement, and slowly sunk away. "Did you mean what you said, back then, about me being trapped in Tortus Bay?"