Hide and Seek

stop and yelling that I'd tell, I'd tell my mother, and over and over

saying I was sorry

"So then Jimmie came into the room. Rubbing his eyes. Adumb little

kid, eight years old, half-asleep, wondering what all the commotion's

about. And there's my father with his pants half-off, and there's his

sister bare-assed in bed with Daddy's hand between her legs, and

there's blood ... all over the sheets, all over my legs. Blood I've

just seen for the first time now.

"He ran out of there so fast it scared me worse than I already was, and

my father, I remember he just groaned like I'd hurt him bad or

something, only it was worse than that, an awful shuddery sound. But

he rolled off me. And I... I went after Jimmie.

"We had a little dog. Just a mutt. He was Jimmie's dog but everybody

loved him. And we had a staircase in the house just like the one in

this one. And the hall was dark. Jimmie ... he didn't see the dog

lying by the stairs. I ran for him but he went down ... and the rest

is all just sounds for me. The dog yelping. My father screaming

behind me. Jimmie falling down the stairs. And then something loud

and wet like if you dropped a ... melon. I guess passed out.

"Jimmie died in a coma. My mother knew everything by then. We got rid

of the dog. You just couldn't have him around anymore. My father was

sober for about a year, all told-"

She leaned back hard against the seat, exhausted.

I watched her awhile, saying nothing, wondering if she was more

comprehensible to me now, wondering if it helped anything.

She was silent for a moment, and then she laughed. In the laugh you

could see how some of the toughness was made.

"Just now my father, who I suppose has had a couple martinis, had the

temerity to put his hands on my shoulders and kiss me on

She looked at me and her eyes held that same indifferent cruelty I'd

seen that day at the beach, looking down at Steven from that rock,

naked and terrible.