Midnight Movie: A Novel (35 page)

Dude said, “No. You can’t. You can’t imagine. It was awful.”

I said, “How would you know?”

He said, “Why would you care?”

I said, “I don’t.”

He said, “I didn’t think so. But you should. I did. I helped him. I helped make him feel better. Or at least feel different. See, nobody cared about Darren Allen Baron Gallon. But I did. I helped him, and he helped me. Would you like to know how?”

I didn’t have the time or the energy for this, so I said, “Frankly, Dude, I wouldn’t.”

He said, “None of this would’ve happened without Darren Allen Baron Gallon. He was the catalyst.”

I said, “That’s great, Dude.”

He said, “His preservation skills are simply marvelous.”

Again, I said, “That’s great, Dude.”

He said, “He’s a magician with that camera. Did you like the way he shot your little movie, Earache Laughing Boy?”

I said, “I don’t know. I haven’t seen it yet.”

He said, “I thought you might say that. So. Will your Mr. Hoopster see me after the show, or what?”

I didn’t bother correcting him on the name. He was either being his usual moronic self or being willfully douchebaggy, so why waste my breath? I said, “You know what, McGee? Fuck it. If this works, you get some credit. It was kind of your idea to get the band back together, so come on down. I can’t guarantee Tobe will want to talk to you, though. That’s up to him.”

He said, “He’ll talk to me. Oh yes he will, Earache, Ache Ear, Ache Ache.”

Christ, what a moron.

The argument lasted for, I don’t know, ninety minutes or so, and it was the kind of argument that a stubborn boyfriend has with his stubborn girlfriend: Each party makes the same point over and over, just restating it in a million different ways. The winner is usually the one who outlasts the other.

My position:
I’m coming to the goddamn screening
.

Erick’s position:
No goddamn way. It might not be safe
.

My position:
If it’s not safe, then you shouldn’t go
.

His position:
I have to go
.

Long story short, he didn’t want me anywhere near the place, because he didn’t know what was going to happen, and I didn’t
want him anywhere near the place for the exact same reason, but if something was going to happen to him, then I thought it may as well happen to me.

I thought it was romantic, in an insane way. But at that point, I was a little insane. Wouldn’t you be? I mean, practically everybody else was.

I wore her down, pure and simple. That’s the only way I ever win any argument with her, because she’s considerably smarter than me.

When Erick told me that Dude McGee was going to be there, I didn’t feel so bad about staying home.

I told Erick that I was going to get to the theater at around eleven o’clock, and I didn’t want him there until right before midnight. I didn’t want
anybody
there until right before midnight. Hell, I didn’t want anybody there
at all
, but I had a gut feeling that for this thing to work,
somebody
had to check out the damn thing, and if that somebody had to be me, so be it.

The front door was open when I showed, and the lights were off, and there was nobody to be seen. I wandered around the lobby calling, “Hello? Hello? Hello?” I felt like a goddamn horror flick cliché, like Wes Craven or Guillermo del Toro was directing the story of my life. Wes would’ve had some dude in a mask and gown tackle me from behind and jam a scythe in my back, and Guillermo would’ve had some sort of vampire materialize out of
nowhere. Me, I would’ve cut right to the chase and had a naked woman chop my head off with an axe. But that’s neither here nor there.

I eventually found the light switch and walked in a few circles until I tracked down the stairway up to the projection booth. The booth was just like any other booth, and the projector was just like any other projector. I looked out the projector hole, and the theater looked like it did the last time I was there: just like any other theater. There wasn’t anything mystical or magical. It was just a big, dark room where people congregated to share the experience of watching a film together. I suppose that’s mystical and magical in a way, but I doubted it was mystical and magical enough to cure a virus.

But fuck it. We made the movie. I figured we may as well show it. I took the film out of the canister, threaded up the projector, sat down on the floor, and stared at the wall.

Then there was a knock at the door.

FROM THE PAPERS OF MARCUS AURELIUS FROST-McGEE