H is for Hazy Hide-and-Seek

There is fog covering the pond where we had planned to hike. It isn’t cold, but it is hard to see more than a few feet in front of yourself.

“Do you want to postpone?” you ask. We were here for a long weekend so it didn’t really matter what day we hiked or what day we did the breweries.

I look around. “Nope. It’s really pretty with all of the fog. And it will mean fewer people here and probably more will be headed inside with the weather.”

“I don’t know how much we’ll be able to see.”

“I’m sure there will be plenty.” I head off down the trail and I could hear you scrambling to catch up. This seems like the perfect opportunity for a game.

I step off the trail and behind a nearby tree. You walk past and I can hear you call out, “Where are you?”

Waiting a few seconds for you to get ahead, I call out, “You’ll have to find me.” The fog is disorienting and the sounds bounce off the trees and water. The day was starting to warm up and I take off my scarf and leave it on the tree next to the path.

I head away from the pond and can hear you backtracking on the trail. “I think you lost something,” you yell as I duck behind another tree. “Nope. I’m leaving you breadcrumbs.”

I leave my jacket on another tree and move another 15 feet or so. Now is the moment of truth. Am I sure enough that the area is deserted to take off more? Throwing caution to the wind, I take off my shirt and placed it on another tree. “Getting warmer?”

I can hear you rustling around, but the fog is making it hard to tell where you are. “Maybe? I found your jacket.” I laugh and the sound bounces off the trees. “OK,” you say. “That sounded creepy.”

“You know me.” I giggle and sit down to take off my boots. Leaving one behind, I head in the direction of the path. I think. Another boot goes next to a fern and I take off my jeans. “How’s the search going?”

“I found your shirt. This game is definitely getting more interesting.”

“I told you there were sure to be sights.”

“This wasn’t what I thought you meant, but I’m not complaining.” I can’t tell if you are going the right direction or not. I hope you don’t get lost–that could be awkward explaining to a search party. The pants are about as far as I’m willing to go just in case.

I move about another 15 feet and drape the pants over a branch. There’s a nice mossy area for me to sit and wait. “I found a boot!” you yell.

“Getting warmer.”

“More like hot.” I know exactly which smirk is on your face even if I can’t see you. “I love your games.”

After another minute I hear, “Here’s the other one. It’s a good thing that I have the backpack. This is a lot to carry.”

“Well, if it’s too strenuous..”

“I didn’t say that.” It sounds like you are coming towards me and then you stop. “Marco!”

I keep silent. “Marco!”

“It was worth a shot,” You start moving again and I can see your outline in the fog. “I see jeans! Fuck, that’s hot.” As you come closer, I see when you realize that I’m there. “Do I get a prize for finding you?”

“You are a bit overdressed for the occasion. Maybe if you want to strip for me.”

You take off the backpack and start taking off your coat. “If those are the rules, I need to follow them.” You strip for me slowly. “How’s that?”

“That will do. Come down here.”