Hide and Seek

“Ready or not, here I come!”

My hiding spot is perfect. There’s no chance I’m losing this game. Not this time. I’m safe and comfortable. I could stay here forever and just live out my life in this exact spot without ever worrying about being found.

But what if no one actually ever finds me? How long can I stay here? This space is small and my leg is starting to cramp. My breathing is shallow. Painful. Is there enough air in here? It smells like wet clothes – dirty, wet clothes. I hate this game.

I can hear Joe moving around in the house; opening and closing cabinets. I learned my lesson last time – cabinets are too dark and too scary to stay in them for very long.

“Mandi! Where are you? … You win … I give up … I’m serious this time … Mandi?” my brothers’ voice sounds close. He must be in the hallway right outside my room.

I’m not convinced I can trust him. Sometimes he lies. He tells me he’s given up and then when I come out, he finds me and insists I’ve lost the game. I don’t like losing and I don’t like being exposed.

“Fine. I quit … I’m going outside to find something better to do!” I hear the bang of the screen-door and then silence. I hold my breath and wait, listening as close as possible for any rustle or movement – any sign that Joe’s in the house. Nothing. I wait some more. Still nothing.

What a sore loser. I stretch out my legs out and clumsily stand up in the hamper. Getting out is going to be harder than getting in, I think. This is awkward. I try to figure out how I can climb over the edge. Raising one leg and then the other, but I can’t do it. The space is too tight and my legs are too short anyway. I jump up and down a few times … mostly out of frustration. I don’t know what to do. If I call out for Joe, he’ll find me here and then he’ll say I lost.

Maybe I can tip the hamper over and crawl out. If I push on the sides … maybe. I struggle — pushing and stretching — trying to get something to happen. Nothing does. I’m defeated.

“Joe! Joe! … Joooooeeeeeee!!” I yell louder and louder, feeling myself starting to panic. “Come on, Joe! Help!” Nothing. Where is he? Did he really give up? Is he so distracted by something outside that he can’t hear me?

“What’s up, loser?” He startles me, appearing suddenly out of nowhere. He was probably right outside the door the whole time. “You lose! I found you! … You lose!” He dances around the hamper laughing and teasing me.

“Stop it! Help me get out! Joe, help me!” I’m so exasperated now, I don’t even care that I lost.

“Calm down. You’re fine, loser.” The softness in Joe’s voice immediately relaxes me as it always does.

“I’m stuck.” I whisper sadly. All hope is lost for me, dear brother.

With a glint in his eye, Joe looks at me as only a big brother can. “I got you” he says, right before he hurls his body full force at the hamper, taking both of us over in the process. I land on my back, stunned and unable to breathe as I feel my lungs gasp for air.

“Get up. You lost! You’re it!” Joe proclaims as he rolls to the side, jumps to his feet and takes off running. “Count to 20 and then find me if you can, Loser!”