Traps, Murderers and Demons

It was dark, as if one was deep in the woods hundreds of miles from any man-made light source on a moonless night. Parker couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. Parker knew where he was, he had hidden in this place before. He knew his way around in these surroundings even in the dark so much that he could quickly move from place to place without making even the slightest noise. At once he felt both comforted and terrified. Comforted by the fact that he knew where he was and at the same time terrified that he was being pursued by someone that also knew his way around in that place he knew so well.

The beam of light swept like a search light, back and forth along a line between the place Parker was hiding and the outer wall. The light was focused as a light from a lighthouse on a foggy coast. As the searcher stepped closer, Parker held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut so tight that his nose wrinkled up and his upper lip pulled away from his teeth.

The spot where Parker chose to hide was in a corner next to a wall that had the odor of a fireplace and slightly mildewed carpet. The light came very close to the spot where Parker hid. The light continued to sweep back and forth until it landed on an exposed piece of Parker’s shirt. The searcher stopped the light for a second as he tried to recognize the unusual pattern and discern if it was evidence of finding his prey. Parker’s heart skipped a beat and sweat formed on his upper lip as it quivered in fear. All of his planning, all of his wits and efforts to stay hidden might be for naught. His mind began to race. He thought about bolting from his hiding spot and making a run for it but to where? He decided at once to stay still. As the light moved on, Parker let out a long low sigh of relief knowing he had survived another day.

Flashlight tag was for Parker, more so than it probably was for the rest of the kids in his neighborhood, an exhilarating departure into the imaginative mind of the nine year old boy, where images of escaping from traps, murderers and demons were as real as Mom’s gentle touch and kind smile was comforting.