Deadlines could wait for just this little bit of time.
They are inevitable each week and they will come soon enough.
No, this task was top secret — maybe even covert.
River came into my office, came up beside my chair and whispered to me that he wanted to use the “cave” under my Lshaped desk as his hiding place.
He and his cousin, Mabry, had been engaged in an intense game of hide-and-seek.
I could hear the ebb and flow of the game play out in the hall outside and in their Nana’s office a couple of doors up.
Other good spots for hiding were in the storage room, the cabinets in the break room and among the shelves of what we call the library, where all the bound volumes, bound copies and other archival stuff is stored.
River knew under my desk was a good spot. That is, as long as it wasn’t the living quarters of dinosaurs, alligators and monsters, he told me. I assured him that if any of those things were hiding under my desk, I most certainly wouldn’t be sitting there.
Besides, a Pirate and Bulldog fan would never suffer a gator to be anywhere in his vicinity.
Mabry dutifully counted to 20 before announcing “Ready or not, here I come!” She is a seasoned hide-and-seek player.
River is just learning the game. Not quite a prek student, he does good counting up to about the number five.
“One, two, three, four, five,” his sweet voice rattles off, before going slightly off the rails on the following sequences. “Nine, two, five, 60, 10, 18 and 6,” he continues. He is on his way to 20, too, but is not real patient. I tried to coach him in counting. Yes, me, the person who doesn’t like math.
“Are we through?” he asks, before I even reach 10. He doesn’t wait for the answer. He announces to everyone in ear shot and possibly as far out as the sidewalk: “Ready or not here I come!”
Admittedly, River’s is new math, but it works. In fact, I like it so much, I think accountants should adopt his new sequences. It won’t make math any more understandable than it is now.
River giggles as Mabry searches, prematurely giving away his location.
“Mabry! You can’t find me!” he teases, allowing her to home in on the sound of his voice and his laughter.
It took me back, yes, almost way back now.
I remember playing that same game, too, when I was a child. I started to say when I was little, but Mama says I was never little. I arrived at 10 pounds.
Grandma Deal’s farm house seemed vast when I was a kid. There were plenty of hiding places in her house — especially under the table and in the corner by the buffet and China cabinet. I crawled under the dining table for old times sake when I moved it to my house. My self stuck out on either side.
And then, there was the plunder room. It was built years ago for, my greatgrandmother’s sister, Aunt Lindy Murray. She and Uncle Frank had no children of their own, and after she was widowed, Grandma and Granddaddy built a spacious room, big enough for a bedroom and sitting area for her in their home. After Aunt Lindy’s graduation to glory, the room became primarily used for storage, creating all kinds of hiding places. There were all kinds of treasures there, so it was called the plunder room.
Grandma Jones’ house had plenty of places to hide, too, but hide-andseek was an outdoor game there. Somehow, when your hiding place had been discovered and you were running to base, Grandma’s pair of maneating roses with long thorns would trip you and gash your legs with their thorns. That meant a trip to get some mercurochrome or merthiolate.
I didn’t know it then, but I suppose there are lessons you can learn from those childhood games. Hide from your troubles and seek the happy and the good.
I thought about all these things. The crush of deadline came back on me again. I had to get back to work.
But, for a fleeting moment, I thought about crawling under the desk and hiding in the cave, if only for just a little while, until my giggling gave away my location.
• Jason Deal is News Editor for The Blackshear Times. Reach him at jdeal@blacksheartimes. news.
