Hide and Seek

She got out of the car and walked toward the church. I followed her.

Beneath the bridge the crickets and frogs were a single texture of

percussive sound.

The door was fastened with a single Yale lock. Perhaps there was

nothing inside worth stealing.

The white paint was chipped and flaking. She pulled a long strip of it

off the door. The Yale lock was rusted. I flipped it with my thumb.

"Sad shape."

"I sort of like it"

We peered in through the window. It was too dark to see much there. A

row of hardwood benches. In the distance, outlined by moonlight, what

looked like a small raised altar. We walked around back.

"It's old. A hundred years or more, I bet."

She wasn't listening. She grabbed my arm.

"Look."

Behind the church and off to the left there were about thirty upright

stones broken, chipped, eroded behind a low wrought iron fence.

"Come on."

She took my hand. We walked among the leaning headstones. We each

took out packs of matches and read the inscriptions. On some of them

there wasn't enough left to read.

Beloved wife of. Beloved daughter to.

^^^^^^1 '