Hide and Seek

"That's fine too."

You could see he was ready to walk out in one of his ten-minute sulks.

He still had a half a drink left, but he got up off his stool.

"Sit down, Steven," said Kimberley. "We can all get together tomorrow

night. Relax."

It didn't really take. He still wanted to march off on us, you could

tell. It was all display. Competitive, possessive and pretty silly.

By tomorrow he'd have forgotten all about it. In this kind of contest

of wills with Casey he never won anyway. You wondered why he

bothered.

But he sat, and he finished his drink. And then stalked off, without a

word or a smile for any of us. I turned to Kimberley.

"Are you going to get more of this tonight? Maybe you ought to come

along with us."

"No, he'll be fine. He'll walk it off now. Besides, I'm the one who

wants to hear the band, remember?"

Casey was expected home for dinner. So I ate alone at the diner,

something very rubbery they had the guts to call steak, and then drove

out to her place around seven in the pickup. I turned off the ignition

and waited. I didn't like going inside unless I had to. The few times

I had, Casey's mother had been very uncomfortable. I had the distinct

sense that she thought her daughter was slumming. She was a fluttery,

mousy thing, and I didn't like her much. Casey's looks came from her

father. As for him, he made me uncomfortable.

The street was so quiet you could almost feel the dusk turn to dark

around you like a slag of fog descending. I heard crickets, and

somebody dropped a pan a few doors down. I heard kids shouting

somewhere out of sight down the block, playing some ga me or other, and

a mother's voice calling one of them home for dinner.

Casey was late.

After a while I heard voices raised inside their house. I'd never had

the illusion that they were a happy family. On the other hand, I'd

never heard them fighting, either.