I'm Only the Trombone Player

Blame it on my Muse ~ DAY 3 ~ Jan. 26, 2022

Blame it on my Muse a 5 DAY Blog Challenge ▼

DAY 3 PROMPT ~ Jan. 26^th. 2022

"The Basement"

"It's a funny thing now that we are all gathered here in The Banana Bar with our muses, waiting for the Day 3 prompt to finally be revealed, when all of a sudden the lights went out, and when the lights came back on you find yourself in the Banana Bar Basement.

Oh No! That's not good. Luckily there was a pen and paper left behind, probably by the last group of bloggers I trapped in the basement somehow. Write about what you find or discover in the basement, and how you find your way out. or if you find your way out Do you meet anyone down there? Is your muse helpful in helping you navigate a path back upstairs?

Ref- The basement guy in the Banana Bar staff intros."

I looked at the load of cartons that had just been dropped off on the dock. This was going to take a while, especially since it seemed like all of my helpers had performed a Houdini trick and disappeared. Not a bunny, turtle, monkey, or imp in sight. "Welp." Talking to myself. "I guess I better just get started without them, no telling if they'll show up anytime soon."

I began loading the cartons, all marked "Fragile", which the Leprechaun still insists is an Italian shipping concern. Silly Imp! I could tell the boxes all held bottles of liquid, each time I lifted one a little chime of clinking glass and a sloshing sound were quite distinct. They all fit into the back of Andre's '55 Chevy pickup, a candy apple red beauty. I was surprised when he tossed me the keys. Whatever this stuff was it must be pretty important.

I drove carefully over to the bar, the old pickup handled well despite being on the sand. But then, Andre had only the best tires on the truck. I backed up carefully to the service entrance and went to check with Andre. "Hey, Boss." tossing his keys back. "Where does this stuff go?"

Andre didn't look up, he was engrossed in playing both sides of a game of Mario Kart. He did point at a door that I hadn't even noticed before, ta' tell ya the truth, I don't think that door was ever there before. Shrugging my shoulders I decided to get a cart and bring all the boxes in before I even opened that door.

Finally, I had to open the door, couldn't put it off any longer. I was hoping one of the fellas might show up, at least to offer a bit of encouragement. But' that plainly wasn't on their agenda for today. I opened the door and saw the longest staircase I'd ever seen, it went on for miles—okay, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration, but it was at least as long as the Queen's Staircase in Burmuda. "Geeze," I murmured. "I gotta carry all of this shi— stuff down these stairs by myself?"

I huffed and puffed, carrying one box at a time, counting the stairs as I went, sixty-six steps down and sixty-seven steps back up. "Wait! Talking out loud to no one. That can't be right!?! How is that possible?" Whatever I thought, two more to go, and I'm done anyway. Second to the last trip, the same sixty-six steps down, but, I must be getting tired, because now at the bottom I swear I can hear voices. All I can see is inky blackness, the only light shining on the shelves that I'm putting the payload on. I shake the voices out of my head and make the sixty-eight step climb back up for the last box. "What the hell? Sixty-Eight?

Sixty-three, sixty-four, Sixty-fi—ooooffff. "Ahh-ohhh." As my foot skids off of something on the stairs, I go backside over teakettle, landing in a heap at the bottom.

"Oh Laddie" In his rich Irish broagh. "Are they alright?"

"Figures you show up now." Annoyed and rubbing my posterior. "After all the work is done—whatta you mean they? Only one of us fell down the stairs."

"The bottles Idjit, I'm askin' about the bottles."

"Well, thanks for your concern. Where have you guys been, it seems like you all deserted me on this one."

He wasn't paying the least attention to me, he was busy checking out the case of bottles. "Ahhh, so that's good at least not a broken one amongst'em."

"What is that stuff?" Seeing the shimmering liquid for the first time. "And, where are we?"

Grumpy looked up and points down on the ground, there's a rough bit of parchment and an old quill. "It's best ya heed the advice on that missive laddie."

I pick up the moldering note, the ink is badly faded, I can just make out the words; 'Go Back, Hurry!'

I don't waste another minute, scrambling up all Sixty-Nine steps.