Page 5 of Why Cheese?
There are men in my basement!
What do I do? Call out to them? Ask them to nicely leave? Run away and never look back?
“Vi? Why aren’t you talking?”
What if it’s all in my head? What if my mom’s right and my brain is broken? What if she tries to fix it again?
I pause to find I’m halfway down the ladder. My thumb slips over my phone, ending my call, then I silence it. Moving like a bag of sand, I slip down the ladder and land.
There’s no one here. I’m hearing things. My brain’s making people up out of crushing loneliness. That’s a normal thing, right?
Clicking on my flashlight, I focus the beam on the ground. Nothing out of the ordinary there. Taking a breath, I sweep it upward. Two thighs appear out of the darkness—two naked, bulging thighs. My mouth drops. My body slips into a catatonic state, but my hand somehow keeps going.
It swings the light higher, revealing two naked chests—one with a jagged scar, the other pale as the moon—before stopping on faces. Four men, four naked men blink in my light and stare at me.
This isn’t real. This is a dream. I’m not even in the shop. I’m back home dreaming all of this.
One of the, I have to stress this, completely naked men raises his hand. My heart stops dead, my body pinned to the wall by eight piercing eyes. With a jolly smile, the man shouts, “Hi.”
A feral roar rips from my throat. In a blind panic, I turn.
Flee. They’re murderers here for your kidneys.
Get out.
My body rushes me forward, slamming my forehead into the ladder. The pain is so jarring I fall back, hitting the brick floor with a loud groan.
Four men peer down at me from above. I struggle to focus, my vision blacking out.
The blond one turns to the others and asks, “Was it something I said?”
CHAPTER TWO
Münster in the Night
IT WOULD BE less embarrassing if I blacked out. Instead, I lie on the floor, trying to pretend I’m unconscious while four still completely naked men bicker above me.
“Good going.”
“Me? Why are you looking my way? It was Cheddy who greeted her.”
“And you expect me to believe you didn’t make some lewd gesture at her?”
“Well, now that you say that… Hey! It was a joke. Lay off the threads. Metaphorical threads. Where did I leave my pants?”
A single soft voice chirps up from the back. “Who is she?”
“Good question.” A hand like a catcher’s mitt slams into my shoulder and jerks me off of the ground. “Ma’am? Are you awake?”
“Keep shouting into her face, Roq. You have a real way with ladies.”
As I shake back and forth, my eyes shoot open like those old baby dolls. A face of steel peers into my soul. Rock hard and rippling, everything is right there and nearly pressed to my clumsy body. I watch the sweat dripping down his nude skin as he works his palms over my arms. My mouth opens for a scream of terror. All that falls out is a panicking squeak. “Hi.”
“She is unharmed,” he declares and pulls back far enough I can see his hair. The man looks like a combination of gruff construction worker meets stern banker. It inverts my brain to realize that his no-nonsense hair is deep blue with hints of green highlights.
I blink rapidly, certain that if I close my eyes the right way these men will vanish.
The big blue one stares back, his face scrunched up like I stink. I was on a plane and the Uber driver didn’t seem to believe in deodorant, so…Oh my god, why do I care what a figment of my imagination thinks of how I smell?
