Page 118 of Why Cheese?
There’s some good in the world.Maybe that’s all I have left to cling to, but it’s something.
Placing the lantern on the ground, I eye up the chest. It looks larger than I remember. How in the heck am I going to get that upstairs? Maybe if I shove it? I grab the two handles and lift.
“Oh god. Oh god. Oh god!” The box makes it a few inches off of the ground before it slams to the floor. “What the hell is in there?”
The damn thing weighs like a hundred pounds.
I reach for the lid before I remember the lock. At least I still have all the keys to this place for one more day. I get it in one go and pry the box open. The lid creaks like a vampire’s coffin.
I blink, then I grab the lantern and swing it over four huge wheels of cheese. They’re all resting on cloth that looks more like a burial shroud. “I guess they missed these.”
Deep inside, I want to take the cheese with me. To keep them for as long as possible and remember. But there’s no way I can get them and the chest up the ladder. Maybe if I take the cheese out, drag the chest up, then come back for them one at a time?
With care, I wrap my fingers around the wheels and pull them to my chest. It’s a terrifying dance as I waddle with the cloth supporting the cheese and try to get it on the ground before the whole thing tears. And I get to do that four times.
Panting, I check the box one last time but it’s empty. No secret jewels, gold, or stacks of cash. I slam the lid shut and the lock catches instantly. Summoning whatever strength I have left, I drag the box across the floor and start to inch it up the ladder. Working my way under the box, I manage to ram my shoulder into it and shove. Each step is a hard-fought mile in the war of gravity.
“This thing is like a thousand pounds,” I cry out, sweat and tears pouring from me. “If I was smart, and not crazy, I’d leave it behind.” But it was his. Maybe it was theirs.
I can’t. I need to keep it with me.
“But do you have to be so fucking heavy?” Gritting my teeth, my arms screaming at me, I push for one more inch. The box tips and slams into the floor above. Taking a deep breath, I wipe off my forehead, then rise out of the basement.
“Sorry that it took so long,” I tell the chest. “How about next time you push me?”
After dusting off my hands, I shove the chest across the floor toward the back of the counter. Maybe Mr. Walker will help me carry it out tomorrow. The hinges catch on the newly polished floor, causing a strange squeaking noise with each push.
“I could piss for days,” a man cries out from behind me.
My memory’s playing tricks on me. It’s turning these squeaks and squeals into voices.
“Why’s it so dark down here?”
I shake my head, trying to close off my ears, but that won’t work. My heart’s making it up, wanting to believe that somehow, someway, on the last night, they’ll come back. Closing my eyes tight, I ram the chest behind the remaining register counter until it rests against the wall. My arms give out and I collapse to the ground.
All that exercise has my heart pounding so fast it sounds like footsteps—a whole mess of them climbing up the ladder. A mix of sobs and laughter breaks from my lips and I flop onto my back. Placing my arm over my eyes, I try to give into the hilarity of this. Except, the pounding isn’t giving up. Instead, it’s getting closer.
Then it stops.
“What the hell happened?”
I freeze, all breath drained from my lungs. Trembling lips, I twist onto my haunches and cling to the counter. The air’s grown warmer, and the floorboards creak with numerous steps across the empty store.
“Everything’s gone. Oh, no. Did we miss—?”
“Another twenty years?”
I’m going to look over the edge and there won’t be anyone. It’ll be a mirage, and I’ll have to accept that I’m crazy.
“What about—?”
No more hiding. No more pretending everything’s fine. Steeling myself, I dig into the counter and launch to my feet.
Four handsome but befuddled men turn at my sudden appearance.
“Violette,” Brie exclaims.
Cam gulps, his face pale. “You’re here,” he gasps, then stares down at me, “and as gorgeous as ever.”
