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O'Jitterys Catch a Movie |
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A woman and three children stand outside the double doors of Auditorium 6.
“Why do we always have to arrive so early?”, the middle child asks. “Ask your father when he gets back,” the woman replies. “Where’d he go?” “He’s talking to the theater manager.” “I thought maybe he was going to get popcorn,” the oldest child says. “You know how your father feels about butter,” the woman tells her. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Outside the manager’s office in a corner of the theater lobby, two men are having a quiet, serious discussion. “I assure you,” the short young man in the oversized, dark blue blazer says, “all our emergency systems are functioning perfectly.” “According to the state database, your last inspection by a loss-prevention specialist was more than four months ago,” the tall, thin man explains, pointing to the screen of his phone. “Almost five. A lot can happen in five months, let me tell you.” “Sir, patrons aren’t allowed in the utility rooms.” “I’m a certified commercial safety inspector with 20 years of experience. I’m offering you a free fire, water, and security inspection. Don’t you think you owe it to your movie-going customers to avail yourself of this free service?” “Like I said, I can’t let anyone in the back. I could get in big trouble.” The man takes a $20 bill out of his wallet and holds it out to the manager. “One walk-through, 10 minutes,” he says. The manager takes the bill, puts it in his coat pocket, and waves for the man to follow him. They walk to the end of one of the theater’s two corridors leading from the lobby. The manager unlocks a narrow door, flips on a light switch just inside the door, and motions for the man to enter. “After you,” he says. The man walks through a short hallway that leads to a large room filled with pipes, wires, and electric consoles covered with blinking lights. Random equipment and supplies are strewn throughout. The man points to several large cardboard boxes filled with paper cups, paper towels, plastic utensils. “These products are far too close to the electrical equipment,” the man says. He scans the room from ceiling to floor, 360 degrees around. The man sighs and shakes his head. “Just from here I can see a half-dozen cautions. Frayed shielding, signs of water leakage.” He peers closely at the side of one of the panels. “And this inspection certificate expired a month ago.” The manager asks, “Are you going to write me up or something?” “No, no, I’m here with my family. We’re seeing ‘The Martian.’ I just like to know we’ll be safe is all.” “I assure you, sir, you have nothing to worry about. This is a very safe theater.” The man looks at the manager warily. “I’d feel safer if there weren’t so many paper products stored so near these combustion sources,” he says, looking up at the boxes stacked nearly to the ceiling. “But we’ll just have to take our chances for the next two hours.” He leads the man out of the utility room, scowling only slightly. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The doors to Auditorium 6 open just as the man returns to his family waiting in the corridor outside the theater. “Well, I calculate the risk of a fire at less than one-tenth of one percent,” he tells them. “That’s above average, but well below the imminent-threat threshold.” “That’s good to know,” his wife says with almost no irony. The three children watch the people from the earlier show stream out of the theater. “Why do we always have to get here so early?”, the middle child asks. “We need to become familiar with the environment,” his father tells him. “I’ve explained this to you a thousand times, son.” “It’s just a movie theater,” the boy replies. “Do you know how many people die each year in movie theaters?”, the man asks. “No, how many?” “I don’t know, but I’m sure it’s a lot.” The man watches the last patrons exit the theater. “We’ll wait for the cleanup crew,” he says. He looks at his wife. “Did you bring the isopropyl?”, he asks. She takes an eight-ounce plastic bottle out of her purse and holds it up for her husband to see, her smile beaming. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Five minutes later, the family of five is seated in the back row of the theater, directly under the small projection windows. They’re the only people in the theater. The pre-show commercials haven’t even begun to run on the big screen. “Back row again,” the oldest child says half under her breath. “Best seats in the house,” her father says with a smile. “And no loud talkers or chair-kickers behind us. Nobody back there but the projectionist.” “They don’t use projectionists anymore, dad,” she replies. “Even better!”, her father brightens. The first few movie-goers enter the theater and find seats. The man eyes each one suspiciously. “OK, kids, let’s go over our emergency plan.” The three kids sink into their chairs, rolling their eyes in unison. “Exits on either side of the screen lead to the parking lot,” the father says. “Our car is parked equidistant from each, approximately 75 feet from the doors. I have my flashlight,” he pulls a shiny silver cylinder about five inches long from his pants pocket and holds it up. “So follow me and stay low. Honey, you take the rear, but what happens if we encounter an obstacle in our path?” The woman holds up her flashlight and says, “I’m the engine and you’re the caboose.” The kids laugh. “Alright, laugh at your father,” the man says with a frown. “But you’ll thank me if….” He lets the thought trail off. Just then, two old couples enter the theater and lumber slowly up the stairs toward the back row. “Oh, no,” the father says. “Seniors.” The five family members watch seriously as the four old folks approach. They enter the second-to-last row of seats and shuffle to the spots directly in front of the family. The man groans lowly, almost imperceptibly. “They’re gonna talk through the whole thing,” he whispers to his youngest daughter seated next to him. “I can’t see the screen,” she whispers back. The man motions to his wife. “Let’s move over,” he mouths silently to her as he stands and moves further down the row. His family obligingly follows him to their new seats. Once they’re settled in, the father says to his daughter, “At least we’re that much closer to the exit. Just in case.” “Nothing’s gonna happen, dad,” she says. “It never does.” “And I want you to keep on believing that as long as possible, honey,” he replies. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Halfway through the movie, the son leans over his older sister’s seat and whispers to his mother, “Mom, I think dad needs the bag.” The woman looks over at her husband, who is scrunched low in his seat. His hands have death grips on the armrests. She takes an empty paper bag out of her purse and hands it to her son, who hands it on to his father. He takes it and immediately begins to breathe into it quickly and loudly. A minute later, the father hands the bag back to his son. “I’ll just hold on to it for now,” the son whispers to him. “Just in case.” -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The family is the last to exit the theater, just as the final credits roll up the screen. “That was quite nice,” the mother says as they reach the lobby. The father, looking a little pale, heads for the water faucet outside the men’s room. He takes a long drink and then says to his family, “Sure were a lot of small, enclosed spaces in that movie.” “It’s just a movie, dear,” his wife says with a smile. “Did you enjoy it, at least?” The man pauses. “I enjoyed that you enjoyed it,” he says and smiles back at her wanly. “How ‘bout you, kids? What’d you think of it?” “It was good,” his son replies. The two daughters nod in agreement. “Next time, can we get popcorn?”, the youngest asks. “We’ll see,” her father replies. “You know, carcinogens are nothing to sneeze at.” “What’s a car’s engine got to do with popcorn?” “How ‘bout some good ol’ licorice?” The girl considers this. “OK,” she says finally. “Just not the red ones. That dye….” |
