Everything awesome about today dies a horrible tragic death when some pasty fucker steps out of the massive RV parked in Alex’s driveway and starts yelling about signs and “the fold.”

I question whether this is someone’s idea of a practical joke, and whether or not I’m going to have to kick some serious ass, because it’s sure as fuck not funny.

An ear-piercing scream startles us all, and I turn to find Charlene standing about ten feet away, eyes wide with terror, one hand clutching her pearls, the other covering her mouth as she continues to scream, and scream and scream some more.

I know she has some kind of RV-related PTSD, much like I have a complete aversion to open doors—especially in the bathroom—but this reaction is extreme. I’m also concerned she’s going to pass out from lack of oxygen. I don’t know how a person can scream that long or that loud without taking a breath.

“Charlotte! I’ve come to save you!” Khaki Man yells.

Who the hell is Charlotte?

Charlene lurches forward and squeezes between me and Alex. I reach out to stop her, but she pushes away, careening toward Khaki Man. She corrects herself, stumbling as if she’s drunk. She grabs my arm, eyes bouncing around my face as she motions to the RV.

“Tell me this is a nightmare. Tell me this isn’t happening.”

“Are you okay? Do you know that man?” I try to wrap her up in my arms, but she pushes away again.

“No, no, no, no, no!” She grabs two fistfuls of hair, clutching hard as she shakes her head. “This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.” She spins around to face Khaki Guy. When she speaks her voice is clear, but shaky, “What the hell are you doing here, Frank? How did you find us?”

He makes some random hand gestures while waving around a cell phone. “I saw your mother on the devil’s box, and I knew it was a sign to harvest again. I’ve been searching for you for so long. It’s time to come home.” He opens his arms wide. “Come give your Daddy Frank a hug.”

“Daddy Frank? Is that Charlene’s father?” Alex asks.

“I have no fucking clue,” I reply.

Everyone from the backyard starts to trickle out in the driveway. “What the hell is going on?” Randy asks from somewhere behind me.

“Oh! Did Charlene’s whole family come to celebrate her birthday?” Daisy asks.

This Frank guy claps his meaty hands twice and a woman appears at the door of the RV. She’s wearing a white long-sleeve blouse buttoned all the way to her throat and at her wrists, despite it being eighty degrees today. She’s also wearing a white bonnet, like she stepped off the set of The Handmaid’s Tale. It’s one of the few shows I’ve watched recently.

She hesitates on the last step, but when he motions her forward, she hikes up her long beige skirt, revealing a pair of white Keds, and takes a tentative step down. She scans the crowd, eyes falling on Charlene, and her expression is a mixture of fear, sadness, and envy. “I thought I’d never see you again,” the woman says softly.

“What the fuck is happening here?” Lance asks from the other side of Alex.

Charlene takes a halting step. “Carrie?”

“Come see your sisters. They’ve missed you, Char-char!” Frank the fucker claps his hands again, and several more women follow the first one off the RV.

I notice several things: they’re all wearing the exact same outfit, as if it’s a uniform, and the rest of them keep their eyes fixed on their white Keds. They all also have medium to light brown hair that falls to the middle of their backs, which makes them look eerily like Charlene.

“Do you want me to call the cops?” Miller asks. “I think this guy has a few screws loose.”

Based on Charlene’s horrified expression, I’m pretty sure Miller is right about that. I step up, because Charlene’s welfare is my first priority and my responsibility. “You need to leave before we call the police.”

Khaki Man turns his wide, freaky-ass smile on me. “I can’t leave. The devil’s box sent me a sign and brought me here to save my Char-char from a life of excess and corruption.” He motions to Alex’s house and all of us standing there in bathing suits, beach coverups, and swim shorts, and finally to Charlene, as if that’s all the explanation he needs to give. “I knew it was too late for her mother when I saw that awful show.” He turns to Charlene. “But I can still save you. Don’t you see? It’s fate that I’ve found you again. It’s time for you to come home and take your rightful place in the co-op.”

Charlene shakes her head furiously and side steps toward the house, away from him. “This has to be a nightmare,” she mutters. “You can’t be here. This isn’t happening. This can’t be real.”

“Oh, shit.” Charlene’s mom pushes through the crowd holding a huge bowl of potato salad, which she hands off to Poppy, who looks confused and alarmed. She stomps across the interlocking stone toward Khaki Pimp Daddy. “Frank! What in the ever-loving fuck are you doing here?”

He puffs out his chest. “I’ve come to save Char-char from your poor choices!”

“Poor choices? For the love of Christ, falling for your bullshit was the poorest choice I made. Now get your pasty ass back in that RV and go back to your subpar greenhouse operation where you belong!” She nods at the women. “Carrie, Cassie, Clara, Clair, Cara, Caddie, so sorry, no offense.”

“Production really took a dive when you left,” one of the women says with a shrug. The rest of them nod in silent agreement.

“Enough!” Frank puts a hand out as if he’s some kind of magician and can stop Charlene’s mom from advancing on him. “Cendy, you’re no longer welcome in the fold.”

“My name was never Cendy, you crazy dickbag! It was Wendy, and I had to change it to keep your psycho ass from finding us! And newsflash, Frank, I don’t want to be in your fold, and neither does Charlene. Now get the hell out of here, or I’m going to file a goddamn restraining order.”

“I won’t leave without Char-char! It’s time to bring her home!”

Frank pushes Whensday, or Wendy, or whatever the hell her name is, out of the way and lunges at Charlene.

His rash, ill-thought-out move spurs a series of actions. Charlene flails and screams as he grabs for her elbow. The women from the RV let out a collective gasp of surprise, and one of them yells for Charlene to run.

Poppy, Violet, Sunny, and Lily all converge on Charlene as she stumbles back. She trips on an uneven stone and lands on her butt. The ping of something hitting the interlocking stone and rolling across the driveway barely registers.

“Poppy! Get away from that guy!” Lance yells.

It’s followed by shouts from Randy, Alex, and Miller, but the only thing that resonates is Charlene’s desperate shriek.

I stop thinking. Instead I react, launching myself at him. I take him to the ground before he can put his hands on anyone else. He’s soft and doughy, and clearly not built for a fight. He lands on the ground with a loud oomph.

“Run, beige ladies! You’re free! Run while you can!” Miller yells.

The first punch hits Khaki Man’s soft middle, and he groans and tries to curl into a ball.

“She’s not yours to touch—not fucking ever. Do you understand me?” I yell in his pale, now somewhat greenish face.

“She belongs with me! She belongs with the co-op!” He tries to shove me off. “We need you back to make us whole again, Char-char!”

“She’s mine, motherfucker. You can’t have her.” This time I punch him in the mouth to shut him the hell up.

Before I can give him a black eye, several sets of hands latch onto me, pulling me up. I fight against the restraints, because all I want to do is destroy this fucking lunatic who’s a threat to my girlfriend.

Alex’s voice is in my ear. “You gotta calm down, Darren. You’re scaring the shit out of Charlene, and everyone.”

I glance at the terrified faces of the beige-clad women and then at the cluster of women huddled protectively around Charlene. Behind them is a semi-circle comprised of Alex and Violet’s parents, while my teammates act as a barrier between me and them. I note the nervous, unsettled expressions that color every single one of their faces.

I look back at Frank the fucker whose nose is bleeding. He struggles to sit up while holding his hand to his mouth. Blood streams down his chin and drips onto his pristine white shirt.

A few of the beige women gather around him and help him to his feet. They throw dirty looks over their shoulders at me as they usher him back in the RV. He starts it up and rolls down the window as he throws it into gear. “I’ll be back for you, Char-char! I’ll save you yet!”

“Come back and I’ll run you over with your own goddamn RV!” I yell and try to rush the vehicle, but Lance and Randy grab me.

“I don’t think you’re helping the situation.” Randy inclines his head to where Charlene sits on the driveway, trembling violently. Her knees are pulled up to her chest, clenched fists pressed to her lips. Violet wraps a towel around her, and Lily brushes her hair away from her face while Sunny tries to pry her hands from her mouth. Poppy picks something up off the ground. Multiple somethings.