Today is my birthday. Instead of celebrating it with loved ones, I celebrate it by almost being stabbed to death and recovering in the prison hospital wing. I'm serving a lengthy prison sentence, all on account of some meddling kids and their dammed mangy dog.
While I'm being kept in observation, I suppose I ought to tell you about my life and how this all began. My name is Louis Seymour Phillips, son of Seymour and Amber Phillips. My father, a self described war hero, was the chief of police in town and got away with corruption. He'd shake up juvenile delinquents for cash in exchange for turning a blind eye to drinking, drugs, shoplifting or graffiti. He thought himself as a saintly priest preventing the corruption of youth, but really he has no better than Charles Dickens' Fagin, but more than willing to back stab anyone he wanted to. Who would believe his victims' testimonies of his crimes over his 'spotless' history?
My parents would scream and fight on a recurring basis, making me not be able to complete homework, leading to below average grades and beltings from the old man. For hours and hours I'd roam around town for any excuse not to go home because of the two of them. Sometimes I'd con a free meal from an old lady at a restaurant by saying how I was all alone and starving or head to the drugstore to read one of the horror comics that got banned by idiots who wrung their hands over how comics could corrupt youth, which my father supported. But my all time favourite place to be was at the local movie palace.
The Fifth Avenue Theatre was my paradise, my church and my real home. I had no discriminating tastes and plenty of ways to sneak in, so no matter how highbrow or trashy a film was, I'd be there in the back rows, ducking behind a seat and seeing it all for free. Eventually I was caught by the owner, Eugene Applebaum, one of the kindest men I've ever known. He never turned me in (possibly due to my father's anti-antisemitism that made any interactions between them unpleasant) but insisted I work there to pay off all of the outstanding debt in stolen movies. With him, the old saying was true; if you love your job, you never spend a day at work.
Once word got out that I was working for him, my father demanded that I start paying for room and board, along with food. Mom protested this, but my father slapped her to shut up so that was that. The thing I love about movies is how no matter how scary Dracula, Frankenstein, the Wolfman or King Kong were, there were sick men out there in the world in uniforms and admired by the public while the 'ugly freaks' were the ones to be punished. Applebaum let me see movies for free once I told him about dad, since I was trying to save what little money I earned. Sometimes I could pay for a friend or two of mine to join me (though they proved detestable since they keep constantly chattering during the film), or even a few dates. But after seeing the best of the women of the silver screen like Norma Desmond, Barbara Jean Trenton, Maggie Elliot, Blanche Hudson and Linda Turner, no other woman could compare. On the rare occasion where my date and I would engage in a bit of heavy kissing, I would accidentally moan the wrong names and get a fat lip in response.
Next to the horror movies, the Basil Rathbone Sherlock Holmes movies were the flicks I didn't dare miss. Maybe I liked them since I could see an honest police officer for once. But after seeing the movies, I would go out to the library and check out as many Holmes books as I could. I was disappointed to see how much an idiot Watson became in the films while the real Watson wrote every single account of the duo's adventures. Sometimes in my dreams, I would kick Nigel Bruce off of the screen and take his place, actually providing the great detective someone who could actually match him wit for wit.
As I grew older, I got angrier. I would directly confront my father over his abuse of my mother and I, but he would always find ways to get the upper hand. Mom didn't care enough to object, since she had taken up drinking to get through her marriage. The few friends I had made had since abandoned me due to my longer work hours and sparse social appearances. Fifth Avenue Theatre was hitting on hard times, television was taking our... I mean, Applebaum's business, away from him. Some of the theatre was falling into disrepair, so Applebaum had to close one of the screening rooms until further notice.
More and more, Applebaum wanted to keep changing the theatre. Repairs were one thing, but his ideas were more asinine than the last. He wanted to completely take down the art deco designs and put in something more 'modern' for the unintelligent movie goers who could care less about the theatre. Those smug imbeciles who pay so much money for those stupid roadshows just to feel special to their neighbours don't know anything about film like I did. It felt like our close friendship was coming to an end the more times I fought with him. I couldn't see any lights over the horizon, and began to loose sleep over the stress. But summer proved that my problems would get so much worse.