Hide (short Story) by Dr.Strange

Hide

‘Boo!’

Jamie spun round, saw the kid – He’d come out of nowhere.

‘Oh, what a fright!’

Jamie pretended not to be scared; he performed a pantomime of horror like Marcel Marceau. His eyes bulged, his mouth formed an ‘o’, he clutched his chest.

‘Gotcha!’ the kid was grinning with delight. He was a freckle faced, ginger nut with big front teeth, like a rabbit. His eyes were concealed in laughter lines.

‘Gotcha, gotcha!’ he squealed.

 ‘Yeah, I’m really quaking’ said Jamie in his best cool voice.

‘Admit it, I gotcha’

The kid was younger than Jamie. He was wearing a Spiderman t-shirt and baggy blue jeans – no shoes. Where had he come from? Jamie noticed the swaying of the curtain; he couldn’t see any other hiding place – unless the kid had hidden underneath one of the dust sheets covering the furniture. Not likely; there was no disturbed dust.

‘Ok, you gotme’ Jamie admitted and slightly lifted his hands in surrender. The kid grinned.

‘I thought we were the only ones viewing the house’ said Jamie. The kid’s smile faltered; he looked puzzled.

‘Are your parents up stairs?’ asked Jamie.

‘My parents?’ he looked …confused? ‘No, I was playing hide and seek…’

‘Oh, right…who with?’

The kid was silent. It was hard to read his expression; it was thoughtful…verging on blank…lost?

‘I’ve been hiding for a long time…I can’t remember…I think they’ve gone…’

‘Who?’ persisted Jamie.

The kid’s lost look was abruptly replaced with a crafty expression, as if he had just remembered something secret. He stared over Jamie’s shoulder. He started to back-up against the wall.

‘Who!’ Jamie repeated. He resisted the urge to look behind, to turn around.

‘Them!’ said the kid, pointing. He pressed back into the wall – actually into the wall - dissolving! Only his head and pointing arm remained visible as he said:

‘Hide – the monsters are back!’ Then he was gone…a departing word/thought (?) echoed in Jamie's mind:
'Sorry...' it dwindled as if a curtain had been pulled on a hiding place...leaving Jamie alone - no, not all alone... 

Jamie stared at the wall – not daring to look behind him ...Sorry?...them, them! Now he was scared! He imagine the  old chant: 'ready or not here we come!' and he thought: 'I'm not ready!'

There was a sound; a deep guttural reverberation, with a smell like the worst case of bad breath ever; worse than rotten eggs.  The foul exhalation formed syllables, barely recognisable:

‘Gocccchhhaaaah’