The following story is a chapter from a novel I have in the works, at this point titled, The Imaginative History of Violet Henry.
Hide & Seek
1982
Mainly two things occupied Violet’s mind on most of her days in early May: her tenth birthday and the start of summer holidays. It was planned that she would spend several weeks of the summer at Green Valley Day Camp, a suggestion by Natalie’s mom to her mom, since they had become such good friends, and everyone thought it would be lovely for them to be together even more. For now, she could spend her evenings outside with the neighbourhood kids, right up until the street lights came on. With the warmer weather and the longer days, most nights after dinner she and Steven would join in gigantic games of hide and seek, street style, organized at their park. One of the bigger kids would lay out all the rules, determine the boundaries and ensure that everyone understood them. No pairing was allowed. You were on your own to hide and to get back to home base before you were found. On such nights, she and Steven would first pick up Natalie from her house, then Steven’s friend Raj, and together they’d head to the park, Raj teasing Violet en route, Steven ignoring both girls as best he could.
“Aren’t you too little to hide by yourself, Violet? Don’t you get scared?” Raj asked Violet on their way to the park one evening.
“Never. Besides, I have the best spot. And I’m not telling anyone where it is. I just thought it up yesterday.”
“What if you stay there so long that you don’t realize everyone else has gone home, and then…”
She cut him off. “That would never happen. First of all, I like to run back to home base. Second of all, I would see it get dark out and, well, third of all, Steven has to go home with me.”
Raj laughed, “Your sister’s got this all figured out.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Steven groaned, “She’s a regular genius.”
“Hear that, Violet? Your brother admits you’re not dumb. Progress.” Violet grinned broadly, appreciative of Raj’s consistent neutrality on the sibling wars, being a true only child, unaware of the sibling code to avoid harmony at all costs.
“You’d better just leave us alone when we get there. Don’t bug me or my friends.” Steven warned.
“Why would I? I have Natalie. We’re together,” said Violet, grasping her friend’s hand.
Once they arrived, the two pairs forked into different areas around a group of kids congregated near the swings. A tall, older boy who Violet recognized from school was standing on top of a picnic table that bordered the sand pit filled with all ages of kids now quieting down and looking up to their organizer.
“Okay, listen up! Regular boundaries like usual. Home base is the swing set.”
“Which swing?” one kid yelled out.
“Doesn’t matter. The whole thing. If you touch a part of it without being caught, you’re home free.” No one argued. It seemed fair. “Now, we need to figure out who’s it. Last time we drew numbers from the oldest kids to get things started.”
“Why don’t you be it?” someone challenged.
“Okay, sure, no problem. I’ll be it. Faster that way. Alright, looks like we have a game. Everyone ready?” Hollers and hoots and cheers rose from the hide ‘n seekers, who were all hiders for the time being. “Don’t forget, first one found is it for the next round. Last one found is the winner.” He sprung off the picnic table, and stood facing a supporting beam of the swing set. “I’m counting,” he yelled as the swarm dispatched like a poked anthill.
Violet grabbed Natalie’s hand and ran, number thirty of fifty being the last number she heard.
“Stay with me! I have the best spot.”
“But we’re supposed to hide on our own,” Natalie said with a note of unease.
“I know, we will. I’ll show you.” About a hundred feet from the swings were the slides, a collection of four in total, in all sizes, connected to a single climbing apparatus offering various methods of ascension. Violet was focused on climbing to the highest level to access the biggest of the bunch: the red spiral tube slide. She paused at the foot of the ladder to explain her plan. “I’m going to crawl inside to the very top of this slide, and you can hide under the blue baby slide. He’d hafta bend down really low to see you, and I can’t be seen from the bottom, only from the top, and if I hear him climb up, I’ll quickly slide down and run to home base,” she was speaking very quickly. “Got it?” she called from inside the base of the red slide.
“Got it,” Natalie called back.
Violet slithered up the slide’s winding walls. At the top, she hugged her knees closely into her chest and pressed her sneakers firmly into the slide, securely anchoring her body in place. Moments passed when Violet heard a thud, then a rustling. She could hear the squealing breath of what seemed viscerally to be a boy, probably younger than her, travelling from the bottom of the slide, not the smartest spot to be inconspicuous. To remain so herself, she covered her mouth and breathed very quietly. She didn’t mind sharing the slide, and now saw it as an advantage since the heavy breather would very likely be found before her. She closed her eyes, and concentrated on her near silent breathing.
Muffled sounds of the game entered through each opening of the slide, leading to the loud and sudden, although predictable, discovery of the heavy breather.
“Good try, kid, but I could see your shadow,” said the seeker, “Anyone else in there?” he asked, using his age and affability to make the best of being it.
“Nope, but I’ll help you find more,” he breathed, “Just gotta tie my shoe.”
“Don’t worry, kid. I got it,” he said, running off.
“Hey, wait! Come back! I found someone! Right here, under the blue slide!”
Violet now held her breath for both of them.
“You got me,” Violet heard Natalie say.
“Nice going, kid. And where’s your twin?”
“Huh?”
“The one you’re always here with. The red head.”
“I dunno. We aren’t supposed to hide in pairs. And I wouldn’t tell you anyway. That’s not fair,” Natalie reminded him.
“You’re right,” he conceded, and took off to continue his it duties.
“Are you okay up there?” Natalie whispered into the slide.
“Yup, I’m okay,” Violet replied.
“See you after.”
Poor Natalie, thought Violet, for while her hopes were steadily rising to be one of the last runners to stay alive, she’d also hoped to make it home free with Natalie – loyal, true, and fair Natalie, everything you could want in a friend. And if she did make it back to the swings, she continued in deep reflection, she knew that Natalie would be waiting, happy for her victory. She felt very lucky to have such a good friend, almost as happy as the prospect of flying home, running fast as the wind, showing all those bigger boys how she’d outsmarted them. Best of all, how she’d outsmarted Steven.
And when the time arrived to make a go for it, when the sounds of the game were dwindling and the daylight was dimming, Violet couldn’t have imagined it going more swimmingly. She released her feet first, swung her legs around stretching them out in front of her, slid down the big, red, spiral tube, and hit the ground running. Feeling heads turning and eyes glaring, she raced to the swings, the sound of a runner thudding not far behind. She slapped the swing’s pole, and exhausted her stride beyond it, hollering elatedly, “Home free, home free!” She did it. Her spot worked. She stayed alive. Everyone cheered, Natalie ran up to give her a hug, and even the tall boy who was it acknowledged her accomplishment.
“We thought the game was done. I just found Adam here, and the next thing I see is a red head running to home base out of nowhere. Good job. We have a winner! Who’s staying for round two?” he shouted.
“Come on, twerps. We’re going,” said Steven blandly as he coasted by them. He walked ahead in the dusk — Raj, Natalie and Violet trailing behind.
“You can really run, Violet. That was impressive. You should play baseball,” said Raj.
“Really?”
“Sure, why not. Of course, you have to hit and catch too, but Steven can teach you.” Violet didn’t reply and Steven didn’t appear to hear.
For the next two days it rained miserably. By the third day, the sky finally cleared in the late afternoon, giving some promise for a clear night and another game of hide and seek at the park. It was the last day of May. Violet remembers it well. It was a bad day. Her dad was working late, so her mom gave her and Steven dinner early. When her dad was home for dinner, which was most nights, her mother would cook something, like meat loaf or chicken drumsticks with green peas, and they’d all sit down at the kitchen table together at 5:30. But feeding just her and Steven meant it was an easy dinner, with their mother puttering around in the kitchen, puttering a word she liked to use a lot. Finished their grilled cheese sandwiches, Violet asked Steven about going to the park.
“I dunno if I want to go tonight,” he said.
“Why not?”
“I just don’t know if I want to.”
“Oh, come on, please? It’s so much fun.”
“Steven, just take her, please,” said their mother, “I’d really appreciate it.”
“Fine.”
After dinner, Violet called Natalie to see if she could come. She and Steven started out in their usual way by picking up Natalie. But by the time Natalie came outside of her house, Steven changed his mind about the plan.
“I don’t feel like going to the park. Why don’t you both stay here and hang around? I just wanna stay at Raj’s.”
“But I wanna play hide and seek,” said Violet.
“Yeah, I’m sure you do, freak, but I said I don’t want to go.”
“But mom said you had to take me.”
“No, she said she’d appreciate it. And I’d appreciate it if you’d just do what I say.”
“Mom’s not going to be happy.”
“Mom’s not going to know. I’ll pick you up here before dark. So don’t be stupid.” And he left. Natalie’s parents weren’t crazy about other kids coming over on a weeknight after dinner, so Natalie suggested they play in her backyard. She had a small swing set that kept them busy until the rain started. It was only seven o’clock and normally, without the clouds interfering, it would still be light. But the heavy clouds had moved in quickly, darkening the late spring sky.
“I guess we can go inside if we’re really quiet. My dad is very tired after work and likes to relax. Or we can play in my garage.”
“Let’s go to the garage,” said Violet.
The double garage was used to store some garden tools, a lawn mower, some bicycles, and a few boxes. Natalie’s parents parked their cars in the driveway, so when they found a skipping rope, there was plenty of space to take turns skipping on the garage’s cement floor. The rain continued to fall loudly against the cars and the pavement outside their impromptu shelter. As they skipped, the odd car passed along the street – swish, swish, swish.
“Violet! Come on! Let’s go!” shouted Steven abruptly from the sidewalk. Somehow, he got his hands on an umbrella, yet still stood with the impatience of a drug addict demanding a fix.
“Gotta go… bye Natalie.”
“Bye!” She ran out of the garage simultaneously and into her coveted front door.
As soon as she was home, Violet went up to her room to change out of her wet clothes and into her pyjamas. She grabbed her drawing book and pencil crayons, and climbed into bed.
“Violet, are you in your pyjamas?” her mother called up from the bottom of the stairs.
“Yes, mommy,” she shouted back.
“Good, I’ll be up soon to say good night.”
By the time her father came through the front door, Violet was becoming sleepy. She placed her drawing pad and pencils on her side table and lay down to wait for her mother to come tuck her in. She could hear her talking downstairs with her father, whose voice was tired and gruff. She felt sad for him. He never liked working late. He preferred to have dinner with the whole family and then sit on the couch and watch tv – first the news, then a show, sometimes a show that Violet would like to watch too, like Little House on the Prairie or One Day at a Time. The rain continued to fall, and it seemed heavier now to Violet, drumming against her bedroom window in rhythms, fast then slow then fast again. In the threshold to sleep she heard her father’s voice. The rain knocked at her window while a voice demanded to be heard. Where’s my newspaper? the voice asked. Violet opened her eyes.
“Have you seen the newspaper, Barbara?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“It should be here. Steven!” Violet’s father called upstairs. Violet closed her eyes.
“Yeah?”
“Did you take my newspaper?”
“No,” Steven called down.
“This is ridiculous. A newspaper doesn’t just get up and walk away. Where is it?”
“I have no idea. How would I know?” said Violet’s mother.
“Would Violet have taken it?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask her?”
“Where is she?”
“She’s is bed, Sam. Where else would she be?”
“Violet!” Violet squeezed her eyes shut and lay still. “Violet! Get down here!” her father commanded. She curled her body into her favourite sleeping position. “Is she asleep?”
“Unlikely, but how should I know?” said her mother.
“Violet! Get. Down. Here. Now!”
What was happening, Violet wasn’t quite sure and could only imagine, but she sensed trouble. She descended the stairs slowly.
“Violet, have you seen the newspaper?” her father searched her face steadily.
“…no…”
“Why did you hesitate? Did you take it?” She was afraid that her fear could be confused with a look of self-reproach on her face. She wasn’t responsible for the disappearing newspaper, but she somehow felt a sense of guilt at having done something at some point that her parents would likely disapprove of. “Did you or didn’t you take it? It’s a simple question.” His loosely veiled impatience quickly became inauspicious.
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so? You don’t think so. Well then, why don’t we retrace your steps? You came home after school. Then what did you do?”
“I went to my room to colour.”
“And then what?”
“I came downstairs to eat dinner.”
“And then?”
“And then… we left for the park.”
“Who’s we?”
“Me and Steven.”
“And then?”
“Well…we didn’t end up going to the park.”
“What does that mean?”
“I stayed at Natalie’s house.”
“Fine, what did you do there?”
“We played in her backyard… then it started to rain… so, we…”
“You what?”
“We went to play in her garage.”
“In her garage? Why would you go to her garage? We have a rule in this house about not playing in other people’s garages. Did you forget about that rule?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? How many times have we told you? You are not allowed to play in garages. Barbara, did you hear this? She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know. Well, did you take the newspaper to this garage that you didn’t know you aren’t supposed to be in?”
“I don’t remember.” She felt confused. She didn’t understand the importance of the newspaper. Had she seen it? She had seen it so many times, delivered as it was (daily) on the front porch, in the afternoon by a boy on a bicycle. Her brother had a paper route once, but he hated doing it – it caused a lot of fights between him and mommy, him and daddy, and even mommy and daddy.
“Well, I guess you’ll need to go look for it then, since you don’t remember.” Violet still didn’t understand.
“Go on, go look for it!”
“Right now?”
“Yes, right now.”
“But it’s dark, and it’s raining.”
“I don’t care! Go find it!” It was at this point, the point that she realized he was completely serious about looking for a newspaper that she had no recollection of taking, that Violet started to cry.
“Is this really necessary?” implored Barbara, coming out from the kitchen.
“I can’t get a straight answer from her, so yes, it is.” Barbara retreated to the kitchen, and Violet opened the front door, looked out to the dark, shiny, wet street. It was still pouring. “You’d better come back with that newspaper.”
She walked slowly at first, then as the rain hit her body she ran, crying, across the street a few houses down, in the direction of Natalie’s garage, which she could see was still open, but dark inside. Someone was coming out of a car in the driveway next to Natalie’s house.
“Violet? Is that you? What’s wrong?” It was Jonathan’s mother, a pretty and unwaveringly kind lady, audibly alarmed at the sight of the small girl running and crying on a murky night.
“Nothing, it’s ok. I’m alright. I’m just looking for something I lost. It’s ok,” she cried.
“Let me get you an umbrella,” she called.
“No thanks, I’ll be fast,” she called back, trying to steady her voice.
She got inside the garage and looked through the grey, fuzzy light as best she could. There was the skipping rope. The bikes. The boxes. All the rest. No newspaper. No, definitely no newspaper. That’s what she thought. She would go back and tell her father that it wasn’t there, that she had accidentally lost it. He would be mad, but she would have to tell him something. He was sure she had taken it, and now she too considered that she may have. Perhaps she forgot. She had been known to lose things, after all. Her father always told her she’d lose her head if it wasn’t attached.
She crossed the street, entered her front door, still crying, her pyjamas drenched. Her father was standing with his arms crossed against his chest, waiting. “So, where is it?”
“It wasn’t there. I must have lost it. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, you’re going to be sorry alright.” He clasped her by her wrist and led her into the den. “You will learn not to touch things that don’t belong to you. It’s bad enough that you don’t look after your own things, but you’ll learn to leave my things alone.” He dropped his weight into the couch and pulled her across his lap, yanked down her pyjama pants and started hitting her behind with his large hand. The pain was immediate and sharp. “And this is for disobeying our rules. Garages are not for children. They are dangerous and have things in them that are unsafe.” He continued to release his discontent with forceful blows, twinned by further verbal reprimands, which Violet no longer processed because at some point her mind reverted back to a very early memory, to the first year of her life, the time she began to gain control over her body – lifting limbs, pulling up, rolling over, lying in her crib, moving in novel ways, when the roller blind on her window suddenly flung up and crashed into the top. The loud bang, the intrusion of daylight, propelled her to jump up, grip the rail of the crib, and wail. She wailed and wailed and wailed.
When he was done and ordered her to bed, Violet’s cries had become hyperventilated gasps, sounds of a saved drowning victim. She retreated to her room. Thinking of nothing, she cried herself to sleep.
© Randi Solomon, 2022. All rights reserved.
Randi Solomon 