Kevin and the Russians

by Liz Days

brown, gurgling, coil, dangerous, headache, constant

I've always hated the stereotype that just because I've got brown skin, I must be dangerous in some way. And here I was, Ivy League Kevin, locked in the trunk of a pale Russian man's towncar and all I could think was: "oh yeah? Who's gansta now? It's not me!" Who THINKS like that?

I was coming out of "Bar" having too much beer in my body to walk with confidence or choose my direction carefully, all the pizza I ate long since digested. I turned onto crown which was slightly out of the way but I was SURE it would be a good idea to visit my ex girlfriend Anna at this hour. She would DEFINITELY be happy to see me. "Not emotionally open enough? Are you kidding me? Look at me now Anna!"I thought! "I could cry in your arms right now I'm so drunk and then let you cry in MY arms! Look at this guy. You'll wish I was LESS open after tonight. We're gonna cuddd-le like BUNNIES, girl. Like soft-ass RABBITS."

I rambled and rambled in my brain, maybe sometimes outloud. My parents would be so embarrassed right now "are you on drugs, Kev?" Just beer and a drug called love, mom. LOVE. Maybe you've heard of it!?" I reached Anna's off campus shack. I always called it a shack because what kind of landlord would think this pealing paint job was ok?  these "fall through the floor" wooden slats "no problem"?

And that's when I saw him. A man, hiding in Anna's "wish the landlord cared about landscaping" rodadendren. My first thought was "already? So soon? And What are you 16? Having guys crawling out of your bed and into the bushes?"  I got all hot. I was definitely gonna cry. See this is why I don't drink. But then I saw another guy and another. 3 guys.pale and dangerous. Before I had a chance to yell out, a fourth was close behind me coiling something around my neck and pulling me towards a car. He whispered something in Russian (I took an Russian elective in  high school, so I was pretty sure he said "I like cheese" although now that I think again, that was probably not what he said). The cord against my neck hurt, I felt my air being cut off but right when I was able to take a deep breath again, I was lifted and shoved into a trunk, lid slammed. Darkness. Headache. Stomach gurgling. I like cheese, too, Mr. Russian. I like cheese, too.