“Come on, Gus,” I call, knowing the shed would be as good a place as any for us to hide. “In here,” I tell him, spotting a padlock on that shed door, but seeing that it ain’t locked up tight. We can still get in.

I silently remove the padlock from the metal loop and open up the hasp. The shed door pipes when I open it up, so I don’t open it all the way. Just enough to get in. I slip inside, make room for Gus. But Gus doesn’t come. He must have fallen farther behind than I thought. I got to wait for him to catch up.

Only when I’m in, tucked behind the shed door, do I allow myself a look back. I hold my breath waiting for Gus to materialize in the yard in the darkness of night and join me in the shed. But Gus ain’t there.

I look all around and call quietly for him. Gus ain’t nowhere.

* * *

I hear footsteps. I hear the mashing of leaves beneath someone’s feet, like someone’s chomping on chips. I hear the sound of breathing, of heavy huffing and puffing, and though I hope and pray it’s Gus, I know it ain’t, ’cause that’s the same huffing and puffing that man was making when he was first chasing after me.

I’m in that shed. I got the door pulled to. It ain’t closed up tight ’cause I was looking out for Gus when the footsteps came. I slinked back into the blackness of the shed when they did. I wasn’t quiet enough ’cause that man heard something. Something brought him to me.

Now he’s inches away. I’m crouched down into the corner of the shed, tucked behind a big old garbage can. There ain’t a whole lot of room in this place ’cause it’s chock-full of stuff I can’t make sense of in the dark.

I can feel my whole self shaking. I got to sit on the wood floor, pull my knees into me and wrap my arms around them to keep from shaking so much I rattle the stuff around me. I’m wondering where Gus is. I’m thinking that if the man is here, then that means he don’t have Gus. But maybe the lady has Gus. Or maybe Gus is hiding in his own shed, ’cause even though he’s a scaredy-cat, Gus ain’t an idiot. He can take care of himself.

The man’s footsteps encircle the whole entire shed. They come to a stop right there by the door. His heavy breathing makes me breathe faster and louder, so that I got to hold my breath to keep from giving up my hiding place. I got to press my hands to my mouth so that the noisy air can’t get in or out.

The heartbeat inside my neck is going so wild it makes me dizzy. I got a cold sweat going on. I feel like I could pee my pants. I can’t hold my breath forever. I take one small, quiet breath, and then press my hands to my mouth and hold it.

The moon on the other side of the shed door is bright. It lights up the man, shines on him standing there just outside the open doorway. It makes him glow. I see the shape of him. I see his pointy chin and his straggly hair. His big nose. He’s an ugly man, just like the lady’s ugly. He ain’t super tall, not nearly as tall as my daddy was when I remember him.

The man turns toward the shed door and opens it up all the way. The door whines, sad that the man is coming in. With that door all the way opened up, the moon comes worming into the shed, too, brightening it some. Not a ton, but enough to scare me ’cause with the moonlight on me, I’m not as invisible as I thought.

I close my eyes and burrow my head into my knees, try and make myself small.

I hear the click of the flashlight turning on. Through my closed eyelids, I barely see the blaze of light as it goes roving around the inside of the shed, bouncing off walls. I ain’t ever been so scared in my whole entire life.

The garbage can is tall and wide, taller and wider than me. I’m crouched so low my body hurts. I got myself rolled into a ball, just like pill bugs. I ain’t breathing much, just enough as I have to do to keep from turning blue. But they’re half breaths that I take, never letting enough air in or out, so that my chest aches and burns. I pee myself. My soft pants fill with it, turning soggy.

The light from the flashlight moves on and gets dimmer, but it doesn’t go completely away. He’s investigating some other part of the shed. The moments tick by at a snail’s pace. With my eyes closed up tight, I can’t see nothing, but I imagine the man investigating every crevice, every nook and cranny, in that whole entire shed, looking for me.

I start wondering, worrying that I got a foot stuck out, that the sleeve of my shirt or a clump of dirty hair is somewhere where he can see. ’Cause even though I’m hiding behind that garbage can, what if all of me ain’t tucked neatly back?

The shed door squeals open even wider.

One loud footstep tromps into the shed with me. Then another. Then another.

He’s coming inside the shed. Next thing I know, he’s all the way inside the shed with me. I hear that man’s heavy breathing. I smell his rank breath.

He’s saying words, telling me he knows I’m there.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he singsongs, and if it wasn’t for that, I’d think he did see me. But I’m no idiot, whatever that lady thinks. I’m no twat. If he knew where I was, he’d have me by now. But a hunch is all the man’s got.

He swears blind that he ain’t gonna hurt me none. “Just come on out, little girl, and I’ll take you home.”

I don’t believe him. Or maybe I do. Except home is not my home. He don’t intend to take me back to Daddy. No, this man intends to take me back to his home and lock me back in that dungeon of his, after he teaches me a lesson about stabbing people with spoons.

I curl more tightly into my pill bug ball. I hold my breath. I bite my lip and clench my eyes shut tighter, ’cause somehow not seeing makes it feel less real.

Something inside that shed goes crashing down. I start. It takes everything in me not to scream. Whatever it is, the man knocked it from its place, trying to scare me out of my hiding place. Something else falls. He’s knocking things down on purpose. I peek one eye open and see a box of nails spilled on the wooden floorboards. They’re sharp as daggers.