Hide and Seek

debris was just that or been able to recognize the huge frozen

man-shape of the boiler for a boiler. I'd have turned and ran.

It was bad enough to take a step forward and feel spiderwebs along your

face and neck. Bad enough to kick something rag soft and feel it curl

around your foot like the tiny fingers of a child. Bad enough to smell

the smells down there. You didn't need big amorphous shapes to unhinge

you any further. But there they were anyway.

And I thought all the while I was upstairs, she's been down here.

No way. You are crazy, Case. A crazy case. Rafferty was right. More

guts than brains. Infinitely more.

So get into it, I thought. If she can, so can you. Get a little

crazy. Laugh. Giggle a little, like Kim. Kim locked away in the

closet. Wish I hadn't done that. Sort of cruel. Like this is cruel.

Get into it, will you? Play bogeyman.

"I'm coming to get you, Casey."

Voice like a dying owl. More scared than scary.

"Where are you-oooo?"

No sound. Just smells. The smell of something rotten. I thought of

the mice upstairs. Dead mouse somewhere. I stepped slowly, groping.

Didn't want to grope. Had to. Hands groping, feet groping too inside

the shoes. Small easy steps to the worktable. Past the boiler (see?

It's just a boiler). No Casey behind it. Piles of sawdust ahead of me

like giant anthills. Feel around for the worktable. Greasy-feeling.

Old sour wood. Used too long, too long between usages. Peer

underneath, eyes open wide, full throttle. Just paint cans. No

Casey.

I kicked over a box of nails, heard them rattle across the floor. Good

work, I thought. Makes walking more treacherous than it already is.

Great. A genius at spelunking, every step a masterpiece.

A pile of something in the right-hand corner. Can't remember what it

is, sure as hell can't see. Small steps toward it, hands held out in

front of me, waving a little. Like Frankenstein's monster, just

learning how to walk. I could feel something slippery underfoot, a

grease spot or something.