Carlos asks, “Why didn't you tell me you had a son?”

Cecil just looks at him, confused. “Why would I?”

Carlos is at a loss. “Well, because people usually talk about their kids,” he says. He's got a few friends with kids, and they barely talk about anything else. Carlos actually gets sick of it.

“Do they?” Cecil asks, sounding amazed. “Why? The Sheriff's Secret Police will know right where to press if they go around talking about it.” He's using the voice from the radio, the voice he has when he says something simple and ridiculous and profound, something that makes Carlos catch his breath and look up at the sky. Like it's a mystery that has been revealed, and it's Cecil's job to let everyone in on the truth.

Carlos can't fathom what Cecil has said, though, that all the parents are quiet about their children because to do anything else is dangerous. He thinks about the radio, all the things Cecil says, the way that he questioned the wisdom of the hooded figures, and the way he refuses to stop acknowledging the existence of the Dog Park.

And Carlos thinks that if he had a son in Night Vale, he would hide him away as well as he could. Or just shut up and spout the party line.

Cecil is not what Carlos thought he was, that much is becoming clearer.

merlin_holidays

destina

Hidden Light