Hide and Seek

It had been a miserable day at work. Too much heat. It frayed the

customers' nerves and it frayed mine. I kept thinking of the beach, of

Casey's belly tanning in the sun. It made me restless but it got me

by.

I went home and showered and shaved, drank a cup of coffee and wolfed

down a hamburger to go from The Sugar Bowl, a local greasy spoon. I

dressed and went downstairs. The old black pickup, all body rust and

squeaky hinges, stood waiting for me across the street. I drove to her

place and parked it.

It was a very big house for three people to live in. I wondered if her

mother had help with it. Help would be easy to find and cheap to hold

in Dead River.

I climbed the steps to the freshly painted white front porch and rang

the bell. There were lights on in the living room. I heard a deep

sigh, then the sound of slow steps crossing the room.

Her father opened the door.

He was a big man, broad across the shoulders and still trim at

somewhere around fifty, with thinning gray- brown hair, black-frame

glasses and an inch or two of height on me- six-two or six-three. He

looked tired. His color wasn't good. He blinked at me through the

half-open door and I could see where Casey's eyes had come from, though

his own were maybe one-quarter shade darker.

"Yes?"

I put out my hand.