Harlow was late to the return and had everyone in a panic wondering where she had gotten off to. After some mild scolding from Rogue and Niridia, she washed up for dinner and it wasn’t until she got back down to the sanctuary and saw everyone lined up in pews instead of at tables, that she remembered she had called a meeting. “Shit, shit, shit.” She cursed at herself as she climbed atop the pulpit to address everyone. She didn’t have time to plan a speech, so she was just going to have to wing it. “I can see all your nervous faces, but let me assure you that nothing is wrong, at least not anything for you to worry like this about,” Harlow began, “But there are some things we need to discuss. I understand that there was a vote taken earlier on whether or not to bury Robin and Shane here in the graveyard, but I was not here to cast my vote and I have some things to say.” These comments didn’t put the people at ease and they began to shift uncomfortably in their pews as they listened. “We have all risked a lot here lately and sadly we lost two good men for a stupid reason the other night. A lot of you voted that they not be buried on hallowed ground due to being turned, but you don’t know the entire story. We didn’t want to cause more tension, but we didn’t find both men deceased. Shane was still alive, or undead, and I had to stake him.” Harlow just came out and said it. A lot of folks were taken aback at first, curiously looking at one another for how to react. After some consideration and quieting, Harlow went on. “Please, just listen to me. I had to end a man’s life, a man who didn’t choose to become vampire in the first place! I had to kill him because if he ever stabilized, he’d know where we were and there is a chance that we are more indefensible here than once thought. Am I not allowed to stay here then? I made a choice in what I did, unlike them.” Harlow was trying to make a point. The congregation debated with one another, Harlow waiting patiently till they finished and one spoke for the whole. “You did what you did to protect us. You’re the reason we all have a roof over our heads and food in our bellies. We would never make you leave.” “Precisely. To protect you. Don’t you think they would have done the same for us as humans? Hadn’t they already? Robin was our best shot with a rifle and Shane killed more vampires than any of us. They deserve peace, in consecrated ground, something I couldn’t give them in their last moments. Treat them with the same respect as you give me.” Harlow made one final plea, hoping to be understood. More debating amongst the congregation as heads nodded and eyes flitted to Harlow more times than she could count. Finally, Rogue piped up. “I say we take another vote, especially since Harlow wasn’t able to cast hers earlier. I’ll pass around the basket. Blue pebbles for letting them be buried here at the church, red pebbles for the alternative.” Rogue started at the front row with the basket and passed it around as congregation members discreetly placed their chosen colored pebble into the basket before handing it to the next in line. Harlow was the last to cast her vote, and unsurprisingly she chose the blue pebble. “While Rogue and Niridia tally these up, I have something else of import to discuss. During my run this evening, I met a man who comes from a group of no more than ten down on the east end. They’re struggling to find supplies and keep themselves fortified and I suggested to him that they come and stay with us. He, in turn, asked if he alone could come and give the place a look, meet some of us, and then discuss having his people come for a visit. With the supplies we found today, we can afford having a few more mouths to feed, especially with the hunting party going out at dawn. You all can meet him and then t he others at a later date and we can take a vote prior to see if they are a fit with us here. And with that, I bid you all good evening.” Harlow finished with her spontaneous speech and excused herself from the pulpit as Rogue took her place. “Votes have been cast and tallied. It was twenty to thirteen in favor of letting Shane and Robin be buried here in the graveyard. Funeral arrangements will be made in the morning and we will need volunteers to dig graves. Please, come see me or Niridia if you’d like to help.” Harlow suddenly felt exhausted as she watched everyone get up from the pews, conversing with one another as if it was just any old day. They had done a good job keeping everyone protected from what the outside world had turned into, but they had no idea how difficult it was really getting. She shouldn’t have been inviting in more mouths to feed and bodies to bathe, but she couldn’t in good conscious leave them out there in the east end to die. It would go against every reason she had decided to do what she was doing in the first place. “You did it, Harley. You swayed just enough in their favor. But some are not happy about the new decision, which is to be expected. We just need to keep our guard up.” Rogue came up behind Harlow and whispered in her ear. Harlow just nodded silently, letting herself slip away to her room before anyone decided to talk to her about the change in their deceased congregant’s fate. (*) Harlow woke up early enough to leave with the hunting party and split from the pack for the general store. She left a little note on the front counter for Remy and grabbed a few more supplies before she rejoined the party, helped bag a deer, and made it back to the church before breakfast. She then spent the rest of the day cleaning up the sanctuary, changed the menu for the evening meal, gathered blankets and amenities for Remy’s stay, and bathed in reheated bathwater, giving her long curly hair a good scrub. They had company coming and she wanted to be both hospitable and charming. They had nothing to prove to these people, but she wanted them to feel welcomed. The Second Golden hour came and went, the night darkening considerably in just a short span due to the time of year. It was now dangerous to be out there alone. Food would be brought out soon, but Harlow had to sit in her perch and wait. She had instructed Remy to come to the basement door and toss a pebble up to the tower window. She’d keep an ear out and then let him in once she heard the makeshift ‘knock’. But it was now an hour past when she would have expected him, and there had been no sign. She hoped that nothing had happened to him and that at the very least, he just decided he didn’t want to have anything to do with her and their church. Harlow had just placed a bookmark in the book she was reading and rose from her seated position by the window when she thought she heard a tap, but wasn’t too sure. It was a windy night and could have been anything. But then she heard it again, a little louder, a little heavier. She raced over to the window and opened it up, sticking her head out to peer down at the ground. “You gonna let me in? It’s incredibly cold out here and I’m practically a sitting duck.” Remy hissed up at her. He stood there just outside the door, looking up at Harlow with his hand on his hat so it didn’t blow away in the wind. Harlow held up a finger and stepped away from the window, shutting it quietly. She then bustled down several flights of stairs and breezed past Rogue and Niridia to the basement, down the long hall, and to the door at the end. A deep breath and one last fix of herself before Harlow opened the door to find Remy standing there, a paper bag in his hand and a scarf over his nose. “I’m so sorry. Quick, get in before you catch a cold.” Harlow didn’t think before she took Remy by the hand and pulled him through the door, locking it behind her when she was finished. “No, worries, mon cher. I was more concerned about being eaten alive than freezing to death.” Remy remarked with a chuckle as he unwound the scarf from his face and took off his coat. “It’s generally not too bad around here this time of night, but things are changing; you never know.” Harlow replied, offering to take his coat and scarf as he followed her down the hall. “Ah, these are from Vanessa and her husband William. When I told her about what I was planning on doing, she insisted I take these to you as a gift.” Remy conversed, holding up the brown paper bag. “How incredibly sweet of them. Let me just hang your coat and scarf up and then I can give you a small tour? You just missed dinner, but I haven’t eaten myself and I’m sure there are leftovers.” Harlow chatted absentmindedly, going through her practiced conversational responses and social protocol in her head as she did. “I would love dinner and a tour. I haven’t eaten anything since last night.” Remy returned, hanging his hat over his scarf and coat. Now that Harlow could see him better in the light of the chapel, she noticed that he had rich, dark chestnut hair that desperately needed a trim, the ends curling around his ears and hanging just at his eyes. He was heavily stubbled, especially around his mouth and chin, his lips pink and chapped from the cold hiding under the rough facial hair. His eyes had Harlow at a loss for words as he smiled at her, waiting for her to lead him. They were like stained glass, different hues of green, grey, and blue gleaming back at her. “Oh, uh—good. I mean, not good that you haven’t eaten since last night, but good that I can feed you.” Harlow tried to correct herself externally as she chastised herself within. She led Remy to the kitchen where they found Rogue and Niridia cleaning up after dinner. “Harlow, love, there’s two plates for you on the stove. I made sure to make them up before everyone else got theirs.” Rogue pointed out the food on the stovetop. “Thank you, my dear. Remy, these are practically my sisters, Rogue and Niridia. They are the reason we even got this place together like we did.” Harlow introduced the three to one another. “I’d shake your hand, but I’m all covered in suds. Real nice to meet you, Remy. Maybe we can all dip into that communion wine later and get to know one another.” Rogue greeted him before she went back to scrubbing crumbs and sauce from plates. “I second that notion on both counts. Pleasure to meet you and let’s take communion together later and get knackered.” Niridia giggled as she dried off the plate that Rogue had handed her. “Sounds like a good night to me.” Remy responded with a slight smile before Harlow led him to the dinner plates and took him to what had been the chapel priest’s office to eat. Dinner consisted of stew, soda bread, and a piece of simple lemon cake. The meal was mostly quiet as the two focused on getting their sustenance instead of chatting, but the silence wasn’t necessarily awkward. Finally, Harlow took it upon herself to speak. “So, first impressions?” Remy finished his last bite of cake before he sat back in his chair and looked back at Harlow with an unreadable expression, although it appeared to be disgruntled. “Honestly? I didn’t expect it to be this nice and well put together. No offense or anything, but you just don’t see this sort of thing anymore. How many do you all have here?” Remy replied curiously. “Thirty three adults including myself, and six children, all under the age of twelve, but over two.” Harlow returned, taking Remy’s plate and stacking it on top of her own. “So, if you were to take me and the others in, that would bring the grand total to fifty people. Can you handle that many bodies here? Feed that many mouths? I don’t want to complicate things for you.” Remy sounded hesitant as he rose from his chair and followed Harlow back to the kitchen. “How many of your people are able bodied?” She asked, placing the dishes in the dirty sink water before she grabbed a rag. “Six, maybe seven. The rest are too elderly to be of much physical assistance.” Remy informed her. “Over half; that’s good. And we have a few that are no longer able to do physical work or have never been able, but we take care of them regardless. They have other skills to offer in return. We can make this work…if you decide to stay. Let’s give you a tour and introduce you to a few more people before we get ahead of ourselves.” Harlow responded like a good leader, but secretly she really wanted them to stay. When she finished doing the dishes, she gave Remy the full tour of the cathedral, even the basement, and was able to catch a few people who were still milling about and let them meet the man that may be moving in. When they were finished there, Rogue found them heading down a back hall and called them up the stairs into the choir loft where Niridia was waiting. “Everyone is going to bed soon so I figured I’d sneak us up some communion wine, an oil lamp, and a pack of cigarettes to take the edge off.” Rogue was hunkered down behind the barrier that surrounded the choir loft, passing out tea cups to all in attendance. “Why does this bring back memories?” Remy chuckled as he held out his tea cup for the red wine. “We can’t smoke in here, Rogue.” Harlow hissed, laying out flat on her stomach so no one could potentially see the top of her head from below. “Eh, and why the hell not? We’re in the loft, the ceiling has broken stained glass for ventilation, and there are no rules anymore.” Rogue rolled her eyes as she popped to her knees, checked over the railing, and sat back down. “Not a soul in sight,” Rogue checked her watch, “And it’s ten o’clock, all are in bed.” She poured herself some wine and downed it in one go. Niridia sighed, lighting up a cigarette, “This is nice.” “So, Remy. You French?” Rogue asked, pinching the cigarette from Niridia when she passed it. “Oui. I’m from Poitiers. Moved to London about fifteen years ago and haven’t been home since.” Remy responded, taking the cigarette as it was passed around. “Why’d you move here?” Harlow asked curiously. “Work. I needed to make money and I was told London was the place to be. I had nothing but a sack on my back and a few francs in my pocket before I took a boat over. Left everything behind for a fresh start. Makes me wonder what home is like now considering.” Remy exhaled through his nose before he took a gulp of wine. “I’m from here, Niridia too. Dunno where Harlow is from, though. Not-a-clue.” Rogue was clearly already feeling the communion wine. “Really? You don’t know where you are from?” Remy seemed surprised and suddenly Harlow was put on the spot. She was going to have to explain before she was ready to. “No. Like Rogue said, not a clue. I ended up in an orphanage when I was three, I believe. It was here in London and that’s how I met Rogue when I was six and Nirida right before I turned seventeen. We’ve stuck together ever since. I never knew my parents.” Harlow gave the short of it. “In that sense, you are lucky. Sadly, I knew my parents and I wish I hadn’t. But it doesn’t matter where we’ve come from, only where we’re going and how we’re going about getting there.” Remy held his glass up as a sort of toast and the others followed. “My parents were terrible people. Put me in a home when I was fourteen because father caught me kissing boys. Worried I was a fairy, but never thought that his son was actually his daughter. Goes against God either way, I guess.” Niridia revealed information that surprised Harlow. It was something she rarely talked about within mixed company. “Who gives a fuck what God thinks? We are who we are regardless of what that violently jealous dick in the sky says. Religion complicates who we are as humans and makes a mess of it. It’s disappointing.” Remy ranted briefly before downing a whole glass of wine. “I’ll drink to that.” Niridia laughed, nudging Remy with her elbow. “I was one too many mouths to feed. The last of ten children in a Catholic household. Gave me to the church at two and found no home, eventually ending up in an orphanage when I was seven. That’s when I met the love of my life, Harlow. Unlike Niridia here, I am a fairy, but I know that our love is never meant to be.” Rogue whined, rolling over so that her head was in Harlow’s lap. “But I still love you, Rogue. Just not the way you want me to.” Harlow reminded her. “I’ll take your love whatever way I can get it, Harley. Just don’t ever leave me because if it wasn’t for you, we’d never have this fine holy wine. You always find the best stuff.” Rogue chuckled, wrapping her long arms around Harlow’s knees. All four laughed in return, finishing off the last of two bottles of wine that Rogue had brought. It was getting late. “Alright, time for bed. At least for me, anyway. Remy, you can stay with these fine ladies if you’d like, but I was going to show you where you can sleep tonight.” Harlow stood abruptly, Rogue rolling off her knees into Niridia. “Well, ladies, as much as I’d like to stay and party, I think I am going to retire for the evening. But thank you so much for the wine and cigarettes, as well as the laughs.” Remy politely excused himself as he followed Harlow from the choir loft. (*) “In all my preparations for you coming here tonight, sleeping arrangements was something I did not nail down. But, I have a larger space than most, in a sense, so you can either take the attic or the bell tower.” Harlow rambled as she and Remy climbed the stairs to the church attic. “You’ll find that I’m easy to please, Harlow. As long as I am dry and warm, I don’t care where I sleep.” Remy replied, stooping into the attic behind her. “The ceiling is low in here, but it’s probably warmer down here than up there,” Harlow pointed up at the hatch above her head. “I’ll take the bell tower, mon cher. Too cold for you up there.” Remy insisted. “But you’re my guest. At least take extra blankets. The walls will save you from the wind, but it’s still quite cold.” Harlow went to hand him a pile of wool blankets when she hesitated, his hands already on the cloth. “You know, what if you just slept in here with me? I don’t want you to freeze to death up there. You may have to hunch over to walk around, but it’s much warmer.” She reconsidered. “Will that make you uncomfortable? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” Remy had taken the blankets anyway, ready to go where he was told. “No, not at all.” Harlow spoke without thinking again, but she’d rather things be slightly awkward instead of Remy turning into an ice block. “Alright, then. I’m going to go have a smoke up in the tower. You can come with if you want.” Remy gave her an invitation. She hesitated, unsure if she wanted to be alone in the tower with a man she hardly knew, but he was going to be sleeping in the attic with her, so she decided to accept his invite. “Sure. I wanted to check the stars anyway.” Harlow gave in, putting her coat back on as she hung from the rung on the ladder. “It’s really beautiful up here. You can see all the stars in the sky and all the shit on the ground.” Remy leaned against the stone turret, looking out on the city as he puffed on a cigarette. “It’s my solace. The only truly quiet place around here.” Harlow added, a cigarette dangling from her fingers. Remy exhaled a cloud of smoke before stooping down next to Harlow, “I can see that. I don’t get much time alone so this is quite enjoyable.” “What do you think? Would you move yourself and everyone else here if we asked?” Harlow felt like his statement was her cue to talk again about the possibility of taking them in. Remy looked down at her from his crouched position before settling up against the wall, his gaze never leaving her. “I think I would say yes, but I won’t know about the others until I bring them here. Although, I suspect they are ready to leave the east end for greener pastures.” Remy answered her. He was still staring at Harlow, his gaze narrowed on her body and then up to her face. She tried to pretend like she didn’t notice, but he was fairly obvious. “Well, I still have to discuss things with Rogue, Niridia, and the others, but I think we would be happy to have you all.” Harlow continued to be stiff and formal. “You know you don’t have to be like this with me. I’m not somebody that needs to be impressed or convinced. Your gesture is very kind and I hope that we can make it work, for the sake of everyone else at the least. But is it what you want? Are you prepared to take on more people?” Remy leaned into Harlow slightly, lighting another cigarette. “I do want it or I wouldn’t have offered. It’s why we started what we did here in the first place; to help others. We know what it’s like to not have anything or anyone. We will make it work.” Harlow was speaking the truth, but she had gone on auto-pilot. The pressure of Remy’s body on hers had her distracted. “Good, because I’d love to get to know you better.” Remy’s words poured from his lips seductively…at least that’s how Harlow took it. “I’m sure you would,” Harlow narrowed her eyes at Remy, “I mean, I think I know what you’re insinuating.” Harlow quickly regretted her assumption. “That’s not what I meant, mon ami. I mean, not unless you are interested.” Remy practically whispered, his elbow resting on her thigh. “No, I thought—I just thought that’s what you were hinting at.” Harlow was embarrassed. “Ooo, belle. If I wanted to fuck you, I’d come out and say it. Not that I don’t want to fuck you, because—,” Remy whistled, “You are a sight for sore, lonely eyes. But I need a friend right now more than anything.” Harlow laughed nervously, “I feel like such an idiot for assuming. I don’t know how to act around people anymore and I can’t read social cues or body language apparently. I’m so sorry.” “Douce, douce, Harlow. Like I said, if I was trying to seduce you, none of that would matter. I’m not subtle.” Remy chuckled, running a thumb across Harlow’s cheek. She wanted to jump out of her skin, but at the same time she wanted to—jump on Remy. “Ok now. But that was sort of subtle and it still seemed like you were coming on to me. Don’t mess with me, Remy.” Harlow leaned away from the man, thumb to her teeth as she spun through all the scenarios that could transpire from there on out. “What I’m saying is that I am not trying to sleep with you…but I am very unsure about your body language and if you’re uh, interested or not.” Remy now looked thoroughly confused. Harlow wanted so badly to be invisible in that moment, but she had to stay present so she replied, “It—it’s complicated? I’m not saying I am interested…but I’m not saying I’m not either.” Harlow sighed loudly, “If it were any other circumstances that maybe I would—” She couldn’t make it come out of her mouth where it made sense, but Remy was reading things a certain way. He leaned in and nuzzled her ear with his nose, his hand finding hers on the stone floor, their fingers now laced together. “Meaning that because we are in the apocalypse, you can’t enjoy yourself? I’m not trying to convince you, but this is turning into us running in circles. What I’m saying is that if you are open to something, I won’t say no.” Remy’s voice was husky as his lips grazed the side of Harlow’s face. She felt so conflicted. It had been quite some time since she had done anything of the sort and the opportunity came out of nowhere, but that wasn’t what this was supposed to be about. “No. No, I’m sorry. We barely know one another and that’s not what I am feeling at the moment. But I understand what it’s like to feel lonely.” Harlow tried to soften the rejection with a mutual emotion. “Even with people, it’s lonely.” Remy stopped flirting and settled against the wall, staring up at the stars. “I know. I could be in a room full of people and still feel like there’s no one else around. I know there are people I can lean on, but sometimes it’s as if they aren’t even here. It’s such a strange feeling, an almost permanent ache that feels like it’ll last forever.” Harlow added, settling back in next to Remy. Remy knew what she was talking about all too well, but he knew that a lot of times he did it to himself. Brief fractionated pieces of feeling whole amidst anonymous sex and alcohol. “It makes you feel almost hollow. And eventually it becomes so overwhelming, you forget how to relate intimately. Everything I do feels robotic, now.” Remy went on, lighting his third cigarette. Harlow took one too and leaned into him so he could light it for her. “And our sole focus becomes not dying and not letting others die around you. It’s the only emotion sometimes.” Harlow chimed in. “Well, it seems like we have something in common. Good first step to not being lonely, I’d say.” Remy responded, relaxing into Harlow. Her initial reaction was to tense up, but she let herself relax as he did and settled into him. “Friends? I think we’d make a good pair.” Harlow held her hand up for Remy to shake. “Mon cher, in France we kiss on it.” Remy chuckled. He took the side of her face with his weathered palm and leaned in, kissing just at the corners of her mouth. He smelled like wine, sweet tobacco, and wintered musk. It was a decidedly comforting scent. Remy lingered at her mouth for a moment, wanting badly to kiss her, but he didn’t want to spoil the moment of connection they were having. Little did he know, that him being this close to Harlow was making her have the same thoughts. They could both feel the tension in the icy air. “You said in France you kiss on it?” Harlow whispered into the quiet. “Oui.” Remy smiled, his breath warm on her skin. Just because they were in the apocalypse, didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy themselves a little. “Then maybe we should really kiss on it.” Harlow placed her forehead to Remy’s, her lips poised over his with soft breath. “Oh, mon cher. You don’t want me to do that. Talk about complicated.” Remy denied her, but his lips moved over hers in such a way when he spoke that it had Harlow shuddering, and not from the cold. Two could play at this game. “You’re probably right,” Harlow slowly pulled away, letting her hand linger in his, “Especially, if you’re moving in. Can’t have things getting awkward on us. We need to focus on survival and not carnal desires.” Harlow pushed up from the ground, stretching with a heady sigh before she walked over to the ladder and descended it so he couldn’t tease her some more. Remy gave it a minute, taking the last drag from his smoke, before he followed her down into the attic. He found her sitting atop a pallet of blankets on the floor by a small window, the brown paper bag he had brought her in her lap. She had pulled out the little cookie tin and opened it to find brown paper wrapped shortbread biscuits. “Did she—did she make these? Where did she get the butter? The oven?” Harlow was amazed at how beautiful these shortbreads looked. “We have a couple goats surprisingly and Will helped Vanessa build an improvised oven so we could bake bread when we had the supplies. They were farmers before this and here on holiday when the sky went red. They got stuck and couldn’t make it out; ended up having to stay permanently because there was no way they could travel that far on foot. They’re getting up in age.” Remy explained, watching Harlow break a piece off of the shortbread to test it. “This is amazing. I don’t think I have ever had shortbread this good. Such a sweet, wholesome gesture.” Harlow was practically teary eyed as she folded the biscuits back up in their tin and put them away. “Vanessa and Will are good people. I think everyone in our group is good people. Haven’t had any real issues between anyone; no arguments besides when things get to be just too much to handle for some. I really think you’ll like them.” Remy assured her. “If what you say is true, I think I will too.” Harlow stood from her pallet and gathered some blankets, “But now we sleep. Are you leaving at the first Golden Hour?” “Is that what you call the miniscule breaks from darkness we get at dawn and twilight?” Remy asked, taking a seat in the pile of blankets Harlow had set out for him. “Yes. We try to do as much as we can in those hours. Things are just slightly safer then.” Harlow stepped behind a room divider and emerged barefoot in a man’s oversized button up shirt. “We noticed that too. I may stay till the evening hour, if that’s alright with you. Get the full twenty-four hour experience before I report back.” Remy winked at her as he took his boots off and settled back into the blankets. “Stay as long as you’d like. We have breakfast after what would normally be sunrise and then maybe you can help me feed the chickens and tell me about your goats.” Harlow yawned, flopping back on her sleeping pad. She hadn’t realized how utterly exhausted she was. “I’d like that. Goats are phenomenal livestock to have, by the way.” Remy yawned in response, nestling in to the soft, clean blankets that Harlow had given him. “Goats and chickens tomorrow, then.” Harlow murmured sleepily as she put out the kerosene lamp next to where she slept. Remy grunted, “Oui. Goats and chickens.” And the two were asleep before they had a chance to say another word.
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E.M. MoonStories from the World Wide Weird Archives
December 2021
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