Chapter 1: The Movies
Still enveloped in the embrace of a bittersweet midmorning haze, Isaac slowly forced a single eye open against the best wishes of the rest of his leaden body. Pausing a moment to allow his vision to focus, he shifted his glance upon a strategically placed alarm clock, positioned perfectly so as to best strike the snooze button. It was two o' clock in the afternoon. Astounding, though perhaps not surprising seeing how the weekend had just rolled around. The sun crept seductively through his blinds, but Isaac wasn't falling for it. Besides, he had a lot of studying to do, and cartoons were part of his required curriculum.
Isaac stumbled downstairs groggily, though considerably refreshed by his shower and ready to tackle the couch and comfort himself with the soothing glow of a freshly lit television set. He didn't bother to dry himself too well, his shoulders still covered with wet spots. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he noticed his father situated at the kitchen table, newspaper cracked open to the funnies. Dad was trying to act natural, but it wasn't quite working.
"Morning."
"Good afternoon, son." His father gibed from behind his newspaper.
"Hey, if it wasn't the weekend..."
"I know, I know. Oh, by the way, Alex called earlier this morning. She wanted to know if you wanted to go to the movies with some friends." He added nonchalantly.
Isaac perked up considerably, recognizing the name of an old friend. "What'd you tell her?" He asked skeptically.
"I told her that we should give Sleeping Beauty a few extra winks before we decide rouse her with a princely kiss." His father razzed playfully.
Slamming his head into the wall in embarrassment and frustration, Isaac didn't even lift his glance to pick the telephone up from off the wall. Fumbling a bit with the receiver, he dialed Alex's number from memory. He remembered it from back when they were in elementary school. They used to hang out together all the time, but not so much anymore. They hadn't talked with each other in almost a year. He tapped his foot nervously as the phone rang.
"Hello? Fischer residence." A voice answered from the other line. It was distorted by the phone line, but he could still tell who it was.
"Hi, Alex. It's Isaac Caldwell."
"Oh, hi."
"I was wondering if you still wanted to go to the movies?"
"Oh, yeah." Alex interrupted. She was talking on auto-pilot, a bad habit of hers. "We missed Written on the Wind, but there is still a later showing of Le Déprimé at three."
"Oh, okay. I'll meet you at your place."
"Sounds great."
"Alright, see you then. Bye."
"Bye."
Isaac hung up the phone and breathed a sigh of relief. He had always hated telephones, it was awkward talking to people on them. But if there was one thing he absolutely couldn't stand, it was girl movies. He had no idea what that other movie was about, but it couldn't possibly be any worse than watching a couple of poor saps declare their love for each other for two and a half hours. Turning to his father, Isaac smiled innocently, anticipating a payoff. His dad rolled his eyes and cracked open his wallet, pulling out a twenty for admission and snacks.
"This is your allowance for the week." he added, making a big effort to sound like the big, intimidating parental figure he was supposed to be. "I want you to act like a gentleman. So whatever the lady wants, the lady gets. Got it?"
"Okay, okay!" Isaac retorted, tugging the worn out bill from out of his father's hand. "I wish you wouldn't treat me like a little kid anymore. Jeez."
"Yeah, whatever kid. Have a good time."
His dad smirked to himself as Isaac bolted for the door, swiping a coat and baseball cap from off the hanger as he left. It was chilly out, more so than usual for this time of year. He exhaled curtly, his hot breath forming a short lived puff of smoke in the crisp air. He loved doing that, it made him feel so cool, like some hard-edged cigarette-chomping detective in one of his comic books. Alex's house was a ways off, but he still remembered the route it like it was yesterday. The autumn leaves had already changed color. A kaleidoscope of warm, earthy colors surrounded him, but he still felt cold. He wished he had brought a thicker jacket.
The neighborhood itself certainly wasn't anything to brag about. Mostly just rows of identical lots and two-story houses. Some of them were painted different colors, but they were essentially all the same. It would have been impossible to tell exactly who lived where if it wasn't for their color. But one thing in particular that made houses stand out for Isaac were all the lawn ornaments that all the house owners put up. He could always tell a person's personality by what people put out on their yards. One person in particular had a thing for those tacky pink lawn flamingos. That guy was a weirdo.
Making his way through the gate to Alex's house, Isaac looked up at the edifice before glancing down at their address rock. The lawn was always neatly trimmed and the bushes attended to. It would have been impressive if he didn't already know that the Fischers had hired a gardener. He paused a moment before outlining a cheesy rhythm with the doorbell that he made up, a little trademark of his. As he waited, Isaac took notice of a pompous garden gnome glaring at him from underneath a door side bush.
"What're you lookin' at?"
"Come on in!" A voice shouted from inside, both startling and embarrassing him. Isaac regained his composure, shaking his head briskly, and slowly opened the door.
The place sure hadn't changed much since his last visit. They still had the swanky leather couches and a thick shag carpet they always did. It looked ugly to him, but at least it made any weekly boxing matches a lot less painful than they had to be. Isaac was mindful to stay on the entrance mat, remembering how obsessive Alex's parents were about keeping the house clean. A familiar face leapt up from behind the couch, a mischievous grin stretched broadly across her face.
"Hey Isaac! I hope that Prince Charming enjoyed that kiss just as much as you did." Alex needled, concluding her taunt with a rapid volley of smooching noises.
"Oh, you slay me." Isaac retorted, sarcastically. He should have known.
"You know what time it is?"
"Uh, two-thirty."
"We better get going." Alex replied, making a great effort to hush her voice. She got up and began sneaking her way to the door when her mother popped her head out of the kitchen curiously. Isaac always thought she was really pretty. He even had a crush on her once.
"Oh, hi Alex! Haven't seen you in a while." She bubbled cheerfully. Isaac responded with a wave and a smile. "Are you guys headed out?"
"Yeah, mom. We gotta get there a little early if we want to get good seats." Alex replied, sounding a tad perturbed. As she turned to Isaac to say something, she was suddenly interrupted.
"It's cold out, so take your jacket and gloves, and here's your hat." Her mom gracefully swept Alex's stuff off the coat rack and dressed her, almost as if she were a mannequin. Alex wrinkled her nose in disapproval. "I put some money in the front pocket, and some change if you need to call home. I think there's a payphone pretty close to the theater. So if you need anything, anything at all..." Alex snipped something inaudibly under her breath. He couldn't tell what it was, but it was apparent that Alex was getting frustrated. Isaac loved every second of it.
"Oh, I'm sorry." Her mother apologized obliviously. "I'll bet you guys are in a rush, huh?"
"Yeah, we'd better get going if we want to make the show, bye." Alex responded hastily, seeing an opportunity to escape. She almost tore Isaac's arm off as she grabbed him and bolted out the door. Though disoriented by the sudden rush of blood to his feet, Isaac could still hear Alex's mother screaming at them as they both charged out of the house.
"Be home by six, Alex! There're some real psychos out there!" She screamed.
The two continued running for a couple blocks before finally coming to a stop. Isaac leaned over and rested his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. He gulped; the cold air still stinging his throat. As he looked up, he noticed that Alex was also winded. She was leaning her elbow against a chain link, her glance tilted upwards and smirking ever so slightly. Alex wondered what the deal was, but decided to keep his big mouth shut. It probably wasn't any of his business anyways. They rested for a few brief seconds before setting off again in a leisurely stroll. The two complained about their parents, shoved each other back and forth and cracked jokes about Joey Guzman's big ugly mole. Just like old times. The walk wasn't a terribly long one; at least it didn't feel like it. It must have been the company that made time fly.
Approaching the multiplex, Isaac quickly took notice of just how empty the streets were. He thought it rather odd, especially for the weekend, but he paid no mind. The multiplex was huge, covered in glitzy flashing lights and bathed in tacky gold wallpaper and red carpeting. As they passed through the entrance, the ticket salesmen greeted them politely. He was a geeky looking fellow sporting coke-bottle glasses and a big poofy head of blonde, unkempt hair. It looked like he had just stumbled out of his high school's A/V department.
"Two for, uh, Lay Deprehmaye." Isaac requested, deepening his voice in an effort to sound cool and mature. Alex snickered into her jacket.
"I'm sorry, I can't. It's rated R." The ticket salesman shook his head.
"Oh, what?"Alex moaned. "Can't you let us in? C'mon, be a pal." She prodded the man innocently. Isaac rolled his eyes.
"I could get fired." The salesman whispered. "But okay, just this once. After all, it's culture." He winked slyly, exchanging their bills for stubs. "There isn't any usher, so just walk on in. I'm glad at least someone still likes foreign cinema these days." The two quickly grabbed some popcorn and sodas with their change. Alex and Isaac spent a few frustrating seconds looking for the right theater before they entered, astounded to find it completely empty.
"Wow, I guess people really don't like foreign cinema." Isaac quipped.
The two flopped themselves down right in the middle of the room, propping their feet up on the seats in front of them, not only excited by the prospect of watching their first restricted movie, but also thrilled that they had the entire theatre to themselves. They laughed and joked with each other boisterously, knowing that no one was going to complain or yell at them to shut up. It felt almost like they were having too much fun. As the movie started, the pair braced themselves for a wild ride.
The film was filled with disembodied of eyes and lips that muttered cryptic phrases, complete with frumpy looking Frenchmen who spent their time riding trains and smoking cigarettes. There was a particular scene involving close ups of a guy sticking Q-tips into flowers while some a lady fried bacon in her underwear. None of it made any sense. Occasionally Isaac or Alex would crack a joke in a silly manufactured accent, but for the most part they just sat there, not know what to make out of it. It wasn't even in color.
"I don't get it." Alex complained at length, stretching her arms in discomfort.
"So, wait. Is Henri that guy that flushed that cockroach down the toilet? This is lame. I thought there were going to be explosions and boo-" Isaac bit his tongue. "...lood and stuff."
Alex shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "I dunno, I guess it wasn't what I was expecting either. I'm gonna go the bathroom. Be right back." Isaac nodded and continued watching the monochrome insanity as Alex picked herself up and left.
Isaac delivered an exasperated sigh. He tossed some popcorn into his mouth and washed it down with a big gulp of soda, drowning his frustrations in food. As the movie continued, old people began winking at the camera, followed by shots of the underside of some musty looking mattress as it heaved and squeaked rhythmically. He felt a little queasy. Fortunately, a few moments passed until the screen suddenly turned black. Isaac was puzzled, albeit relieved. The pause prompted him to wonder if the film hadn't just abruptly ended, or if maybe the projector was malfunctioning. Downing a last handful of candy and pop, he picked himself up to leave before his departure was interrupted by a string of several white letters, appearing as if being typed on the screen.
Isaac
Isaac furrowed his brow skeptically, wondering if it wasn't just a part of the movie.
Isaac
He turned his head to look into the projector room, wondering if it was a prank.
Isaac
No one was there.
Isaac
His breathing quickened anxiously.
Isaac
Paranoia seized him as his name continued to loop over and over again on the screen, each repetition disturbing him more than the last. He felt like he was being watched, but he couldn't tell from where. He began backing himself out of the theater, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen when suddenly, an abrupt rush of words raced frantically across to the blackened canvas.
I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live
I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live
I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live
I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live
I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live I live
