Hide and Seek

Rags. A pile of old dirty rags. Even Casey wouldn't hide in there.

The other side of the room, then. Toward the back of the house.

A faint breeze coming from that direction. The smell of rot moving

along with it.

I shuffled past the stairway and tried to see inside it through the

stilts and crossbeams. It was way too dark.

"Casey?"

No answer. Maybe you had to say gotcha. Damn stupid game.

"Gotcha!"

Then suddenly I had it. I knew where she was. I was sure of it.

The grandfather clock.

I'd noticed the first time we were down that the clock was the cabinet

type. You could hide in there. And if I'd noticed it, then you could

bet that so did Casey. I thought it would be just like her to find the

only item in the house that could remotely be called elegant and use

that for a hideout. She was nuts but she had class. It was the clock,

all right.

Now if I could only find the damn thing.

If anything, it was even blacker here. The dim beam of light from

upstairs played out completely. It couldn't turn the corners, couldn't

slip through the stairs and crossbeams, wasted itself on cans of paint

and piles of rags and looming hulks of whatnot. Where are you when I

need you, moon? You could hardly tell where the wall began at first.

It was just black. My dilated pupils expanded one last time and then

gave up, rolled over in mute surrender.

I proceeded like a blind man. Used my other senses. Touch. (Cobwebs.)

Smell. (Dampness, rot.) Hearing. (Somebody in here needs walking

lessons.)

a. 0 . < , _

Casey? Out of the clock, Casey.

Silence. I guessed she was going to make me work for it.

Something crawled across my face, and I almost lost it right then and

there. I'm pretty sure I screamed. I know I batted at my face until

my jaw hurt and I felt something wet and cool smear across my cheek.

I hate spiders. Spiders and snakes.

Spiders and snakes in the dark.