'Grandfather's clothes?' Noah said with unaccustomed reverence. Simon shivered; Hester nervously plucked purple thread from here and there. And Owen Meany-at the moment, our leader-said, 'WELL, THERE'S ALSO THE CLOSET WHERE THE CLOTHES ARE KEPT. IT CAN BE SCARY IN THERE, IN THE DARK, AND WE COULD PLAY SOME KIND OF GAME WHERE ONE OF US HIDES AND ONE OF US HAS TO FIND WHOEVER IT IS-IN THE DARK. WELL,' Owen said, 'THAT COULD BE INTERESTING.'
'Yes! Hiding in the dark!' Simon said.
'I didn't know those were Grandfather's clothes in there,' Hester said.
'Do you think the clothes are haunted, Hester?' Noah asked.
'Shut up,' Hester said.
'Let Hester hide in there, in the dark,' Simon said, 'and we'll take turns trying to find her.'
'I don't want you pawing around in the dark for me,' Hester said.
'Hester, we just have to find you before you find us,' Noah said.
'No, it's who touches who first!' Simon said.
'You touch me, I'll pull your doink, Simon,' Hester said.
'Whoa!' Noah said. 'That's it! That's the game! We got to find Hester before she pulls our doinks.''
'Hester the Molester!' Simon said predictably.
'Only if I'm allowed to get used to the dark!' Hester said. 'I get to have an advantage! I'm allowed to get used to the dark-and whoever's looking for me comes into the closet with no chance to get used to how dark it is.'
'THERE'S A FLASHLIGHT,' Owen Meany said nervously. 'MAYBE WE COULD USE A FLASHLIGHT, BECAUSE IT WOULD STILL BE PRETTY DARK.'
'No flashlight!' Hester said.
'No!' Simon said. 'Whoever goes into the closet after Hester gets the flashlight shined in his face before he goes in-so he's blind, so he's the opposite of being used to the dark!'
'Good idea!' Noah said.
'I get as long as I need to get myself hidden,' Hester said. 'And to get used to the dark.'
'No!' Simon said. 'We'll count to twenty.'
'A hundred!' Hester said.
'Fifty,' Noah said; so it was fifty. Simon started counting, but Hester hit him.
'You've got to wait till I'm completely inside the closet,' she said. As she moved toward the closet, she had to brush past Owen Meany, and a curious thing happened to her when she was next to him. Hester stood still and put her hand out to Owen-her big paw, uncharacteristically tentative and gentle, reached out and touched his face, as if there were a force in Owen's immediate vicinity that compelled the passerby to touch him. Hester touched him, and she smiled-Owen's little face was level with those nubbins of Hester's early bosom, which appeared to be implanted under her T-shirt. Owen was quite accustomed to people feeling compelled to touch him, but in Hester's case he retreated a trifle anxiously from her touch-though not so much that she was offended. Then Hester went clomping into the closet, stumbling over the shoes, and we heard her rustling among the clothes, and the hangers squeaking on the metal rods, and what sounded like the hatboxes sliding over the overhead shelves-once she said, 'Shit!' And another time, 'What's that?' By the time the noises quieted down, we had Simon completely dazed under the flashlight's close-up glare; Simon was eager to be first, and by the time we shoved him into the closet, he was certifiably blind-even if he'd been trying to walk around in the daylight. No sooner was Simon inside the closet, and we'd closed the door behind him, than we heard Hester attack him; she must have grabbed his 'doink' harder than she'd meant to, because he howled with more pain than surprise, and there were tears in his eyes, and he was still doubled over and holding fast to his private parts when he tumbled out of the closet and rolled upon the attic floor.
'Jesus, Hester!' Noah said. 'What did you do to him?'
'I didn't mean to,' came her voice from the dark closet.
'No fair pulling the doink and the balls!' Simon cried, still doubled up on the floor.
'I didn't mean to,' she repeated sweetly.
