Where I Belong

Chapter 5-1

Chapter 5

The next morning, Harper shuffled into the kitchen for coffee and some cinnamon toast. With a great deal of effort, he lifted his arms over his head to ease the tension in his back. Pain radiating down his neck and shoulders awakened him at about six that morning and no amount of stretching or exercise seemed to relieve the tightness. Breakfast in hand, he wandered into the sunroom and sat down at a table he had set up as a writing space. He planned to work on fleshing out the outline for his new book, but it wasn’t happening. No matter what he did all he could think about was Scott and what happened in the months before he left home.

After a couple hours Harper couldn’t stand the quiet or his own angst anymore. He decided to take off in the old farm pick-up for an afternoon at Wrightsville Beach and maybe a little surfing to clear his head. That part was probably a great idea, but as it happened, stopping for gas on his way out of town was a mistake if he wanted to keep a low profile.

Harper hopped out of the truck, filled the gigantic gas tank and ran inside the convenience store for pork rinds and a drink. The local puffy pork rinds were a nostalgic choice and helped him remember better days and road trips with his family. As he paid for his snack, a screeching woman blocked the doorway. “Oh. My. God. Harper Ellison, as I live and breathe. Randy! Get the hell over here. Look who I found.” The woman was, unfortunately, Janie Guthrie, a cheerleader in his high school class and part of the in-crowd, but that was ten years and probably forty pounds ago.

“Janie Guthrie, how are you?” Harper smiled coolly. He might as well be polite, since he couldn’t stay under the radar now.

“I’m Janie Koslov now. Surprised you’d show your face here in town. Does Karen Thornton know you’re here? Randy! Now!”

At this point, Harper desperately prayed to a god he wasn’t sure he believed in that it was Randy Koslov, Junior she was hollering after, but his bad luck prevailed. Out of the store came a burly, mountain of ugly man with stringy blond hair and a knobby nose broken way too many times to look normal. Randy nearly dropped his vat of soda when he sorted out who was talking to his wife. The big man blanched and anger swept his lumpy face, but only for an instant before his normally arrogant demeanor returned. “Whatcha doin’ here, fag? Didn’t you learn your lesson last time?” Randy spat out the words.

“f**k you, Randy.” Without another word, Harper dashed around Janie and jumped into the truck, locking the doors as he slid into his seat. He’d dealt with homophobic slurs many times since leaving Ridgefield, but coupled with the threat of repeating “last time”, Harper just about lost it. As he returned to the farm, he thrummed with almost hysterical anger. Meg and Joe had gone to Granby for lunch with friends, leaving Harper alone. Memories suffocated him as he attempted to relax in front of the TV. His knee bounced continuously and he ran his fingers through his hair, resisting the urge to pace. Finally, he fled the house and sat on the back steps to calm down, but the adrenaline was still running too high.

Harper stormed out to the barn to see if his uncle’s heavy punching bag still hung amid all the junk, but it was gone. Harper gave in to the anger as memories of last time continued to assail him. As the frustration grew too strong, Harper lashed out, punching one of the rough boards framing the barn, scraping the skin off his knuckles and getting more than a few splinters for good measure. Spent, he staggered around the side of the barn and sat down with his knees bent, staring at his bloody, bruised knuckles.