It didn’t take more than a
second for Manny to figure out that something had radically changed between him
and Hamlin, at least as far as Hamlin was concerned. For a moment he wished the
boys weren’t there, and then he was glad that they were. They made it easier
for him to stay where he was, rather than crossing to Hamlin and saying
something that might push the man further away than he seemed to be already.
As the silence lengthened,
broken only by the gleeful interplay between the boys and the puppy, Manny
turned away and started to work again. He heard Hamlin tell them he’d be back
in a while, after he’d seen the rest of the crew, and then Jakie was beside him
again, asking questions about how to get the effect he wanted on one section of
the wall.
An hour later, Manny called
a halt to the work for the day. “Dinner time,” he explained, “and then your
studies.”
The boys protested but it
was just a formality. They knew the rules and after cleaning up they vanished
downstairs. Not feeling very sociable at the moment, and knowing Gebhard would
be eating with the boys anyway, Manny started down to his room on the second
floor. When he got to the hall he saw Hamlin leaning against the wall outside
his door. Instinctively, Manny started to turn away; not wanting what he
suspected was going to be a confrontation with Hamlin.
“Wait. We have to talk. Or,
I guess I have to. No, we have to,” Hamlin said.
“I suppose we do.” Manny
continued down the hall, opening his door and then standing back to let Hamlin
go in first. “Where’s the dog?” he asked as he closed the door behind them.
“I left him with the boys,
and warned them they were not to feed him table scraps unless they wanted to
clean up after him later,” Hamlin replied with a small smile.
Manny merely nodded as he
took a seat on the sofa at one side of the room. Then he said, a bit tersely
because he was worried about what was to come, “So, talk.”
With a sigh, Hamlin sat in
the chair catty-corner from the sofa. There was a long pause while he tried to
gather his thoughts. Finally, knowing the words would sound crazy but still,
somehow, believing he was asking the right question, he said, “What are you?”
Not quite certain how to
reply, Manny went for the obvious, “A counselor here, thanks to Gebhard and Mr.
Shadrick.”
Hamlin shook his head. “I
mean—“ He stopped, pulling his wallet from his pocket, taking out the picture.
He handed it to Manny. “I took this three years ago.”
Manny looked at it and then
back at Hamlin. “Sort of incriminating in its own way, isn’t it?”
“When you consider you
haven’t changed one iota since it was taken, yes.”
Manny ran a hand through his
hair. “I can’t talk here. Not when the kids could burst in any time. They don’t
seem to get that this is my space and should be at least semi-private.”
“Then where?”
“Let’s get the puppy and I’ll
let Gebhard know I’ll be gone for a while. Then I’ll take you to a place where
we won’t be interrupted.”
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