We all have secrets, every one of us. Some secrets are so precious we dare not lay them aside even for a moment, holding onto them tightly wherever we go. Like the sound of footsteps from behind, as close as your own shadow. Then there are those secrets that forever haunt a place, intertwined with the shrubbery, buildings, and soil, and, sometimes, a few wild orange groves. Even by fleeing from such places, there is no real escape- not really. The sleepy town of Langton, located in rural Harrison County, Florida, is a place of secrets
Traditions are a sacred way of life in the South, sometimes too sacred, and over the years, the word has been cunningly used to purify or shroud all manner of sins. Harrison County has as many traditions as it does secrets. The murky waters of local history overflowing with generational families and prominent citizens as if part of a raging river, with currents, eddies, and backwashes. On the outskirts of Langton, carved into the remains of three wild orchards, stands old Orange Groves High School, overwhelmed with its share of traditions, too. This is not lost on those new to the school or community, whether they are an adult or teen. Even in recent years, as the natives dwindled, there were two different Harrison counties by choice, separated by those very secrets.
With almost a century of use, it has finally been deemed that Orange Groves High School was too outdated and costly to ignore, both its usefulness and days were numbered. Following the death of a major local politician, and an equally important act of God, the school's closing, once again, becomes a dire countdown for the natives, a harbinger of things best left undisturbed. For the many affected most, from those that sit in the classrooms, or walk the halls of the Groves, from teacher to student alike, it isn't a time that would be easily forgotten. When the indulgences of the past catch up with the indulgences of the present, there comes a reckoning.
Sometimes the past is only a few feet under the surface