An unnamed narrator is playing hide-and-seek with their big brother. The narrator believes they have found the perfect hiding spot—between and underneath—until...
Between and Underneath, for children 4 to 8 years of age, examines the themes of directional concepts and childhood anxiety.
"Geese"
photo by ldyck
Between and Underneath
"Go hide." My big brother leaned against a tree with his head resting on his folded arms. "One. One thousand. Two. One thousand. Three..."
I lay down flat in the tall grass, but soon my brother said, "Ha. Ha. Found you hiding in the tall grass."
I hide behind a tree, but my brother said, "Ha. Ha. Found you hiding behind that tree." And he said, "Okay, I'll count again, but try harder this time. It's no fun when it's too easy." And he counted, "One. One thousand. Two. One thousand. Three..."
I couldn't hide in the tall grass and not behind that tree or that one and not—
"Twenty. One thousand" and "Ready or not, here I come."And I wasn't ready, and here he came. "You need to hide. Why didn't you hide? Don't you want to—"
"Yes, I do. I promise I'll hide really good this time."
"One. One thousand. Two. One thousand. Three..."
I ran around our yard looking for a good place to hide. I looked here, there, and everywhere. I ran around to the other side of the garage. I ran to the old rusty truck. A flipped-over canoe rested on top of the old rusty truck.
"Come over here. I'll hide you," the canoe called.
I ran over and slipped between and underneath. It was dark and scary in there.
"Don't be scared," the canoe sang. "I'll keep you safe."
And so I stayed between and underneath. I stayed, and I didn't say a word. I barely breathed.
"Once upon a time," the canoe said, "I was sailing in a river. Fish were under me, and blue sky was overhead." The canoe had lots of once-upon-a-time stories. Lots.
"Come out. Come out. Wherever you are," my brother called. He couldn't find me. I'd won.
"Thank you for helping me, Canoe," I told the canoe. "It's time for me to go."
"No, I want you to stay. I'll be lonely without you. No, you can't go."
What if...? What if the canoe never lets me out? What if I have to stay between and underneath forever? Forever... What if...? Tears slid down my cheeks.
"Where are you?" my brother called.
My big brother. He'll help me.
"I'm in here. Under the canoe but—"
"Come out. The game is over. You won."
"But I can't. I can't. The canoe won't let me out. Please, help me."
I heard grunting. My brother was fighting with the canoe.
The canoe went up.
"No, he can't," the cano cried. "He can't."
The canoe fell down.
"See. You're mine," the canoe told me. I'm much stronger than your stupid brother. You'll never be free. Never!"
The canoe went up.
"No!" The canoe cried.
The canoe fell down.
"Never!" The canoe roared.
I begged, "Please let me out. Please let me go. I miss my mom and my dad and my big brother. Pl-ea-se!"
"No! Never! You're mine."
I couldn't help it. I started to cry.
"Calm down. Just calm down. I'll keep you nice and warm; you'll see." And the canoe told me another story about being out on the water on a beautiful sunny day.
And slowly, I began to get an idea.
"You're lonely, aren't you," I told the canoe. "You don't want to be left out here," I said. "You want to be out on the water, don't you? You want to be out on the water with my family," I said. "I can help you get what you want."
"You can..." His voice was so soft. I knew he wanted to believe me. "How?"
"I'll talk to my dad. I'll remind him how much fun we had. I'll ask him to take you out on the water."
"Why would you help me?"
"Because—because—I don't want you to be sad."
"You don't?" He didn't say another word for a long time until... "No, you're just trying to trick me. All you want is for me to let you go. And when I do, you'll forget all about me."
"No, I won't. I promise. I'll help you."
And the canoe let me go.
And I kept my promise.
Abby sleeping in the dirt
photo by ldyck
Picking a book
is like
choosing a dog,
you don't know
what you have
until you experience them.
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July 12, 2026
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