A THING by ELENA ZHANG
How to Fall in Love at the Mars Cheese Castle
1. The first thing they tell you when you start working at the Mars Cheese Castle is to never fall in love. Ignore that.
2. Remember that there is no shame in the Cheese Castle. The Cheese Castle is gauche. The Cheese Castle is tacky. The walls aren’t even made out of real stone, and the sign’s giant lettering is in loud cheddar orange, towering over the highway on the Wisconsin border like a beacon for the in-between.
3. When, as the leaves begin to crisp in apple-cheek cold, a man wearing a graphic t-shirt walks into the Cheese Castle and sees you, really sees you, body aged and ripe, don’t avert your eyes. Don’t make yourself small and hide within the labyrinth of summer sausage and pepper jack spread. Tyler wouldn’t have wanted you to hide. Didn’t Tyler have a t-shirt just like that one?
4. Flash your gouda teeth at the man when he approaches the cash register, holding a six-pack of craft beer and a bag of jalapeno cheddar popcorn. Don’t be afraid. His soft smile could be true. Could be just for you. There’s something for everyone at the Cheese Castle, after all. Sugar and caffeine to survive long car trips. The dignity of a clean bathroom. It’s a home away from home. Not like your home, of course. Not empty and grieving, but incandescent.
5. When the man hands you his credit card, let your finger brush against his, lingering for a second longer than appropriate. There is no propriety in the Cheese Castle. Tyler would have understood this. Tyler never followed the rules. That’s why he didn’t wear a seatbelt when he went out for a drive that day ten years ago on the way to Chicago, body ripped apart like string cheese.
6. The Cheese Castle only has one rule, one must never fall in love, and this rule you are supposed to break.
7. Look at the man’s soft brie lips. Let him look at yours. Let him breathe you in, sharp and pungent. When he makes a joke about the state of his mussed hair, laugh as loudly as the squeaky cheese curds Tyler used to devour. Scrape yourself against smooth tooth enamel. You can still be heard, even over the blaring ring you twist on your finger. It’s been ten years. Long enough to be cured.
8. Remember that there is a road ahead. Everyone is going somewhere, even if that somewhere is back home.
9. When the man is finished paying for his items, feel a sense of burgeoning hope, yellow like sunshine swiss. When he disappears beyond the drawbridge, remember that you are once again alone. Remember why one must never fall in love at the Cheese Castle, because at the Cheese Castle, no one ever stays, and everything perishes eventually.
10. Come back to work the next day and stack the chocolate cheese fudge. Relish in the unknowing. Allow your hope to curdle. Here, at the Mars Cheese Castle, that’s when it starts to taste just right.
Elena Zhang (she/her) is a Chinese American writer and mother living in Chicago. Her work can be found in HAD, Ghost Parachute, Exposition Review, Your Impossible Voice, and Lost Balloon, among other publications, and has been selected for Best Microfiction 2024. She’s on Twitter: @ezhang77.