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Just what the hell could be behind this door?Later that afternoon the man who sold us the house stopped by and dropped off another set of keys for the workshop and garage. When I questioned him about the second level, he smiled embarrassingly and gave the explanation. Since he started construction in the mid fifties, it was smack in the middle of the cold war and he figured better safe than sorry, and built a bomb shelter along with the home. He apologized and explained that he just simply forgot to mention it when we walked through the first day. I figured it quite odd to forget something like that, but just let it alone. Besides, the extra space may come in handy some day.Well twenty years later it did come in handy, but not just as a storage area. My wife and I were visiting Marsha and Jim, her sister and her sisters' husband, when the most shocking and unbelievable news alert came over the television. There on the screen was the horrifying announcement of a meteor heading. He made me breakfast, and we went shopping for the last of my Christmas gifts for my girls. Later, wrapping them in my sister’s bedroom with Robert on the floor next to me, one knee bent with his arm hung over it, and my sister and her housemate also in the midst of bright paper and ribbons, I complained mildly that I was tired, not having gotten much sleep the previous night. ‘Don’t brag!’ the housemate chided, and I had to laugh, because she had pegged me. We spent an evening playing games with my sister and some of her friends. When her friends were leaving, Robert sat down on the couch with me and confided that all the stroking of his hair I had done during the games had warmed his body, to the point that he was ‘tumescent’. I liked that word. I liked all it implied. I liked that he found me exciting and arousing, that he wanted me to come to his bed again. So we made the journey to his apartment along the dark, cold streets, preserving our own private warmth in the two-headed.
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