Like most times
when I went to see a movie, the others in the theater got up to leave before I
did. I always waited until the last credit had rolled. So deep in thought was I
that it startled me when a gruff but slightly friendly voice said, “That was good.
Are you going to do it again?”
Was I going to
choose the greater good after a moral struggle in Casablanca again? Every time!
Or did they mean watch the movie again?
I looked up to
find the senior couple sort of smiling down on me. It was the woman who had
spoken, but now the man said in a kind voice, “Good movies really take you
someplace, don’t they.”
I blinked. That’s
right … Pinecone Theater, matinee classics. I was supposed to be working. I
jumped up.
“Am I going to do
this again?” I finally managed. “Yes, definitely. For now, once a week, but I
may do more depending on demand.”
“Do you do
requests?” the man asked.
My heart fluttered
like he’d asked if I wanted to wrap my arms around all my favorite classic
films and live with them close to me. “I can try. What were you thinking?”
The woman asked,
“Do you know Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House? We love that one.”
Okay, my heart was
straight-up singing at this point. “I love Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House.
It was on my list, actually. How about next Thursday at eleven?”
They looked at
each other, that kind of look people have when they’ve been married forever and
live their lives in each other’s pockets. Ken and I never had that kind of
relationship. I supposed we never would now, though I wasn’t sure how I was
supposed to feel about it.
“Could we do
Wednesday?” the woman asked. “We have doctor appointments next Thursday.”
Small-town living
at its finest.
“Absolutely. I’ll
put it on the schedule.” I walked out with them. “And if you have any other
requests, let me know. I’ll do my best.”
They left the
lobby, smiling, but not as brightly as I must have been.
“Well, you
look like you enjoyed that,” Melanie said when they’d gone.
“I did! And they
did too. They’re coming back next Wednesday for Mr. Blandings Builds His
Dream House.”
“Excellent,”
Melanie said, tapping the countertop with her pencil eraser. “Maybe with the
advance notice we can get more people in. Are you going to do it more than one
day a week, then?”
I was getting
lightheaded. This was all too good to be true. “Can I?”
Melanie shrugged.
“You run it, you can do it.”
I demurred, not
wanting to look desperate. “I’ll work up a schedule, then. Thanks, Melanie. I
have a good feeling about this.”
“Clearly people
are interested, and hey, you’re already bringing in concessions money,” she
said. “And I’m never going to say no to that.”
Then she winked at
me. Winked … Hm. That businessman had winked at me too. Two in one day, when I
was sure I hadn’t been winked at in years.
Funny I hadn’t noticed
him leave the theater, but then I’d been pretty engrossed in the movie.
What if he’d left
early and I hadn’t noticed? Shoot. I’d have to work on my proprietor
observation skills. I mean, what if he’d wanted more popcorn and I hadn’t
served him? Unhappy customer, fewer sales, less likely Melanie would let me
keep this up.
“Did you already
shut things down in the projection room?” she asked.
“Oh, nope. I’ll go
do that now.” Actually, I hadn’t even remembered to turn on the lights. Lucky
no one tripped coming out.
Each theater, I
learned, had two light switches: one you could reach when you first entered,
and one upstairs just outside the projection room. I flipped on the one by the
door, and the empty red-purple seats came into dim view. On the screen, the
movie credits had ended, and it had reverted to its starting place. The picture
of Rick and Elsa cheek-to-cheek already made me wistful to watch the movie
again, and that Arabianesque musical score rang through the theater. Such
a good movie. I started up the stairs, this time slower, thinking again of the
beautiful, complicated world created so long ago that could still touch me so
deeply.
Something niggled
at my brain. Something wasn’t right.
I looked up and realized
that in that top corner row, still shadowed in the limited theater lighting,
the businessman remained in his seat. I could see the reflection on his
glasses. A chill ran through me.
He hadn’t left.
Click here to read the whole story!
Happy reading!
~ Della
.jpg)