Hide-and-Seek. Sergey Redkin

Hide-and-Seek - Sergey Redkin


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be running around our house looking for him. I could hear his voice, but I just couldn’t find him. I would wake up screaming and it would take a minute or two before I’d realize that it was a dream. The countless hours of therapy gradually changed the dream to the one where I’d just watch Charlie running through the park. Well, the therapy and the “exciting” combination of drugs, alcohol and quite a bit of casual sex. Theoretically, one could’ve called it a breakthrough, but I had tried to forget the day it’d happened and had been avoiding the topic with everyone, including my parents. Today, however, it seemed that there was no way around it. So, there it was.

      “You might remember that Maple Grove House isn’t the biggest manor around but quite spacious,” I began.

      “Indeed,” Jared said. “Ten bedrooms, isn’t it?”

      “Yes, plus five or six other rooms for different activities so to speak.”

      Another round of beer magically appeared on our table. This time it was accompanied by a bowl with walnuts.

      Walnuts in a pub? It’s his place.

      Jared took a sip from his fresh glass, started cracking the nuts and throwing them in his mouth rather skillfully.

      “Anyway,” I said after admiring his cracking-and-throwing technique for a second. “Charlie loved to play hide-and-seek for hours with me because there was so much space that we could use. Our parents were often too preoccupied with their guests to spend any time with us. So, we were left to our own devices when we were there. That was of course only during summer and winter breaks. Then we sort of played it less and less.”

      “I do remember that,” Jared said. “I also remember wanting to play with you so much, but the house was off limits to the servants’ kids. We could use the playground though, which was quite generous of your parents.”

      That was true. At one point we kept quite a few people as staff in the house. My parents liked to hire married couples with children. They were stable employees, I suppose. Being a single parent, Jared’s mother was an exception, but she was a good employee. In any case, we always had some kids playing in the playground that my great grandfather had built.

      “Well, we were playing the game on that day as well,” I said, dreading to get closer to the moment when my brother disappeared. “We hadn’t played in a while and Charlie sort of begged me to do it for old times’ sake, so to speak.”

      If only I’d said no.

      “He told me that he’d found a place to hide and that I wasn’t going to find him this time,” I said. “I knew all the possible hiding spots in the house, of course, but that was our ritual. He would boast of a new place, and I would find him within minutes.”

      I suddenly got thirsty and finished my glass. Judging by numb gums, my magic powder was still working, and I needed more alcohol to reduce the unexpected anxiety. Jared followed suit without saying anything and gave the bartender a sign for another round.

      “So off he ran to hide. I decided to give him a few extra minutes and went to get a cold drink,” I said, wishing the new round would come sooner.

      “We could take a break,” Jared suggested, looking at me.

      “I’m all right. I’ve worked through all this with my therapist and drank through it many times over.”

      The new round came with a fresh bowl of walnuts. Jared started to work on those nuts, and I joined the cracking action as well. We ate the nuts in silence like two buddies who didn’t need to fill pauses with unnecessary chat. After I’d finished a couple, I felt I was ready to continue.

      “Well, when I went upstairs looking for him, I couldn’t find him in all the usual spots. And just when I thought that, perhaps, he had finally found a new one, I saw him from the window running through the garden. I figured he’d changed his mind and didn’t want to play anymore, so I went to my room.”

      “You saw him running away?”

      “Well, I was on the third floor and was considering checking the attic, which Charlie was a bit afraid of, when I saw him running fast towards the main gates. I screamed, ‘That’s not fair!’ or something to that effect, thinking it was odd for him to break our rule about hiding only in the house.”

      Jared stopped eating the nuts and gazed at me.

      “When exactly was that?”

      “Thirteenth of July.”

      There was a moment of silence. “Was that the last time you saw him?”

      “Yes, it was.”

      “When did you realize that he was missing?”

      “It was much later in the evening. I felt strange that he hadn’t shown up for dinner, which we usually had by ourselves when our parents were preoccupied with their guests. I asked the staff. No one had seen him. Then I thought perhaps he’d gone to see our parents. It was a bit unusual but at that point I was running out of options.”

      If only I had started looking earlier instead of sitting in my room, checking out my secret stash of adult magazines.

      “I remember the summer parties your parents organized,” Jared said. “They were amazing. So many people in nice outfits walking around the park, carrying tall champagne glasses, and chatting with each other.”

      “Some of those events were nice, I suppose,” I said, remembering myself being bored at them.

      “But you couldn’t find Charlie there.”

      “Right,” I said and took a sip from my glass. “It was getting dark, and we started to get really nervous. Everyone, even some of the guests if I remember correctly, was out looking for him. I told everyone where I’d seen him running to and we all went to comb the park. My parents called the police and then the whole thing became this massive search operation that lasted for a month and then some.”

      “Yes, I heard everyone was looking for Charlie. My mom was there as well.”

      I didn’t remember the last bit but nodded anyway.

      “After six months, my mother was emotionally drained. It was decided that my father would take her to France to recuperate. It was a temporary arrangement. Not sure if you know this, but my grandparents had a château which they had bequeathed to my mother and her sister. After some time, though, my mother developed this notion that Maple Grove House was cursed and persuaded my father to stay in France for a while longer. Each time my father brought up the idea of returning, my mother would ask for ‘a bit longer’, which eventually turned into ‘never.’ At that time, we still had a pig farm that was generating some income. It had been profitable until a few years ago when the tenant died, and his kids didn’t want to be pig farmers. Well, my father went back from time to time to take care of some things, but my mother was adamant she didn’t want to set foot in the house again. Gradually, my father stopped coming back as well and things were getting done through our lawyer.”

      Jared nodded. “What about you?”

      “I spent some time in France, came back to go to university, graduated and have been in the City ever since. Never went back to the house either,” I said and felt that it was a bit too much. The beer wasn’t working in my favor.

      Jared pondered his next thought. “He was running towards the main gates, and he was wearing a white shirt?”

      “Yes. Why?”

      “You know, you might have seen me, not Charlie.”

      “What?”

      “Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about today. I think we’ll need something stronger than beer, though.”

      When our “stronger” single malt drink arrived, Jared took his phone and speed dialed a number.

      “Freddy, bring it in,” he said and put the phone down. He took his glass, lifted it up and looked through it as if admiring the rich, medium dark shade of orange color of the drink. He gave it a sniff. “Ah, this stuff is the best.”

      A


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