Hide and Seek

You couldn’t hide anything from Ben.

It was almost supernatural the way that kid knew where you were hiding something: his birthday presents, Uncle Mike’s R-rated DVDs, which fist held the shiny coin.

No one could explain it. Was he just really good at reading people? At any rate, this little talent made Ben impossible to surprise, and a champion at hide-and-seek.

Whenever it was his turn, he would count deliberate and slow, like he was giving the other kids every chance to out-smart him.

“One… two… three… four…”

And at one-hundred, those little feet would kick off. He had caught a scent. He was chasing invisible footprints.

He would find them all without even trying: Jeremy Evans dangling up a tree, Mary Marshall crouching inside the cupboard, Todd Foster lying under a pile of autumn leaves. Ben would grin in that buck-toothed, knowing way and declare, “I found you!”

But Tammy Winter was going to change all that. Come Ben’s eighth birthday, she would out-smart that freckled little weasel. He wasn’t anything special – she always beat him at school, and she was even better at sports than him. Ben couldn’t kick a ball or swim a lap to save his life.

Tammy normally loved the ceremony of lighting the candles, cutting the cake, and ripping apart the wrapping paper (naturally, Ben had found and opened his parents’ gifts that very morning), but this year it was dragging on. Her perfect hiding spot was waiting for her.

With bellies full of cake and soft drink, the kids finally came together for hide-and-seek.

Being the birthday boy, Ben was up first. “One… two… three… four…”

And then Tammy was off, bursting through the back gate and shooting down the street. An adult called, but she ignored it. Her destination burned in her mind.

Down the road.

Past the school.

Around the church.

Down the hill.

And right to the edge of the river where the raft waited patiently.

Nobody really knew where that raft had come from – it was just there, sitting ready for kids wanting to cross the river. Ben might know where Tammy was, but without the raft he couldn’t get to her. There was an old rope swing dangling from an outstretched branch closeby, but it wasn’t nearly long enough to propel a kid to the other side. As far as Tammy was concerned, she had already won.

Paddling across the water the other side of the river, she passed the next half-hour in a jittery excitement, which soon gave way to boredom. Before long, she was dozing in the grass against a tree trunk, and it wasn’t until the toads starting chirping in her ear that she awoke to the creeping dusk.

Panic chewed into her stomach. Nobody had come looking for her, not even Ben. He wouldn’t leave her alone there all night to spite her, would he?

Tammy stood, wincing at her sore back from the awkward sleep. Stepping back towards the water’s edge, something in the distance made her heart tighten. Red and blue lights pulsed on the other side of the river.

Oh no, they’ve called the police on me!

She hastily stepped towards her raft and stopped. It was too dark and the current was now rushing past, worse than before. She wouldn’t make it across the river alone.

Her chest pounded. She crouched on the wet grass, wondering what to do – eager for home but equally fearful of what her parents would say.

Eventually, a flashlight shone in her direction and she stood up, shouting and waving. A young officer launched a small motorboat, and before long he was at Tammy’s side of the river, easing her into the motorised craft. In a strangely soft voice, he asked if she was alright. She nodded.

As the boat roared across the water, Tammy heard people crying. Guilt dropped into her belly like a heavy black stone.

The officer helped her off and before she could say a word of thanks, her mum rushed over, pulling her into an almost savage hug and blubbering madly. Her dad trailed behind, eyes shining. They were distraught, but neither of them seemed mad at her.

Over her mum’s quaking shoulder, Tammy finally saw the white van. It wasn’t just police cars sending pulses of light everywhere, it was an ambulance too.

And by the open ambulance doors, next to a black-covered stretcher, stood Ben’s parents. They were mad. Not angry-mad; crazy-mad. His mum was screaming, screaming into her hands. His dad’s arms were around her shoulders; saying nothing. His silence was equally frightening.

All of a sudden, Tammy understood her mother’s hot, wet blubbering in her ear.

“I thought it was you! I thought you were gone, too!”

*

That night, her dreams were a strange thing. They stunk of the river. She didn’t know something could smell in her dreams, but it was there. Wet, muddy decay.

In the dream, Tammy watched Ben feebly grip onto the rope-swing. He was so puny, with nowhere near the agility needed for a decent swing. Yet he tried. With the rope clenched tight in his fists and a burst of speed, he leapt over the water’s edge.

And that was it. He was gone.

This vision would repeat itself over and over again. She watched her friend make the jump a hundred times. Rope in fist, body in water. Gone. Again and again. She ran to him, shouting for him to stop. She gives up; he can win.

And then the dream popped.

Everything still stank.

Tammy shoved the reeking covers away from her face. One deep breath sent her into a fit of sickened coughs. Everything was supposed to be clean – her pyjamas, her bed, herself. She couldn’t stand the odour, but it was right there.

She turned around in her bed, only to find the smell was much, much worse on this side.

The voice beside her was hoarse and waterlogged.

“I found you.”

-

Credit to: http://darkandmagical.blogspot.com.au