Hide and Seek

I checked my watch. Ten minutes after seven. The movie started at

eight. It would take us half an hour to drive to Trescott. It was

going to be tight, but we'd still have a little leeway.

(waited. I didn't mind waiting. There was no temptation to turn on

the radio. I'd always liked the evening quiet of Dead River. It was

one thing the town had to offer, a kind of gentle cooling of the spirit

that comes along with the cooling of the land. The summer nights were

almost worth the winter nights, when you suffered, housebound, through

the cold. You could almost feel the stars come out, without seeing

them.

I was eased back, sitting low in the seat, dreaming.

I jumped when I heard the door slam.

There was no light on in front of the house, so it was hard to see her

face at first as she came toward the car, but I could tell from

something in her walk, in the way she moved, that she was upset. Her

movements were always so controlled and confident, made up of loose and

well-toned muscle. But now, I saw a rough abruptness about her that I

wasn't used to. She pulled the door open on the passenger side.

"Drive."

She launched herself into the seat. Her voice seemed thicker, angry.

"Yes. I don't care. Anywhere. Fuck it!"

I think she took a good five years off the life of my car door. My

ears rattled in tandem with the window. I started the car.

"Easy."

She turned to me, and something took a dive in the pit of my stomach.

Those lovely pale eyes gleamed at me. I'd never seen her cry before. I

started to reach for her, to comfort her.

"Please!"

She was begging.

Casey, begging. I couldn't quite believe it at first.

I did what she asked. I drove.

"What's up?"

"Please just drive."

"You still want the movie?"