Fantasy Game

The boy’s own fears vanished as he realized that whoever was in the dark spot was much more afraid than he was.  It was no monster, zombie, or vampire, or even a friendly ghost.  He was real, and he was young, and he was scared to death.

The boy reached out to grasp the tiny doorknob, but pulled back in a hurry, as if he had grabbed onto a hot coal.  The person behind the voice in the dark spot was terrified enough.  Opening the door suddenly would frighten him further, perhaps causing him to begin screaming uncontrollably¾or worse.  The boy didn’t exactly know what a heart attack or a stroke was, but he was pretty sure that they were caused by terror¾at least that’s what the scary movies taught him.  And besides, the last thing he wanted to do was wake up his parents, causing his dad to charge up the stairs, with an attitude.

Instead, the boy rapped lightly on the door, three times, and then scooted on his fanny a foot or so away.  He listened…and heard nothing.  The person in the dark spot had responded by suddenly going completely quiet.    He had heard it.

The boy remained silent for a minute…and then two.  There was still no movement from beyond the door, but as his hearing became accustomed to the stillness, he began to pick up the muted sounds of the person’s shallow breathing.

He knocked once again.  Silence, and then a hushed shuffling of feet like soft wood on fine sandpaper.  All went silent again, but the sounds had stopped just inside the door.  There was nothing now but a half-inch pine board separating the two.  One of them was nervous with anticipation.  The other¾scared beyond belief.

The heavy breathing continued, but the boy was no longer sure if it was from the person in the crawlspace, or was of his own making. 

Finally, the boy held his breath and reached forward for the doorknob.  He pulled it only hard enough for the force to overcome the tiny latch that held it closed.  He left the door open just an inch and pushed himself back several feet, all the way back to the partial wall that enclosed the stairway. 

The person within jumped at the new development.  Up until a moment ago he had heard nothing beyond that of his own ragged breathing and the sounds of his clumsy journey through the interior of the crawlspace.  He had assumed that the second floor was empty.  After all, it had been only minutes before.  But the rapping on the door had startled him, causing him to stop and listen, and the sudden movement of the door, as slight as it was, really scared him.

In time, the opening of the door revealed itself as two hazy gray lines: one vertical, one horizontal¾the top and opened edge of the door.  The stranger still hadn’t heard a sound from the outside, but he was smart enough to know that the door, or whatever it was, had not opened on its own.  He was seated now, facing the thin slices of poor light.  He reached out with one rubber-clad sole and pushed on a spot that seemed midway within the space defined by the right angles.

The door swung open easily, but with the soft squeal of small hinges in need of oiling, like a slow train taking a sharp curve.

The two boys sat on the hard floor a mere ten feet apart.  The one inside the crawlspace had an advantage, as the light was much better on the outside.  He sat there, still breathing hard and took in the sight that was now visible, if not clear.  It was a young boy, like himself, but exactly how old, and what he looked like was hidden in deep shadows.  He wasn’t surprised by the darkness.  Moments before it had been equally dark, the storm having stolen the sunshine from a midsummer’s day.  But he was surprised, more than surprised, that there was someone else here.  He was sure that there was no one here when he climbed the stairs and entered the crawlspace.  The house had been deserted, hadn’t it? 

Stranger yet was the fact that the boy sitting across from him seemed to be sitting there in pajamas.  Why would a kid sit there in his pajamas in the middle of the day?  

The boy who lived in the bedroom could see much less.  He knew that someone was there, but all that he could see was the whiteness of his huge sneakers, the strange logo on his shirt, and the whites of his eyes.  Everything else was cloaked in blackness.