SHORT STORY - Timing At The Theatre

I was pretty happy I left the movie theatre when I did.
Well, not right away. It was raining cats and dogs. So there I was, standing in the rain, thinking “why the fuck did I pay 7 dollars to watch a movie I had no interest in watching, and leave within the first half hour?”. I've come to the conclusion that it was cosmic timing. I'll get to why in a second. First, I'd like to make it clear that I never got the 7 dollars back. But that's the least of things. I was soaked by the time I got to the nearest café, which was no more than five minutes away. Thank God for city life. I walked in, just to get away from the rain. I usually don't go to cafés, unless my mother forces me to one of her parent-child-bonding trips to the city. Every fucking time she realizes overtime makes it hard to be an attentive mom. This happens every four months or so. They mostly consist of me and her going to cafés and her asking me if I'm gay, making it clear that it's totally fine if I am. Everything aside, I appreciate that. My mom's okay. At least she gives a shit, unlike my dad. But I digress.

It just wouldn't stop raining. I had sat there for probably 45 minutes, and I was emptying my third cup of overpriced coffee, black, and in comes a woman, with two kids. She looked pretty upset, like someone just called her and said that the train that was supposed to take her to where she wanted to go was cancelled and, oh, the line had been closed for good, no chance of her reaching her destination. She came over to my table, and asked if she could sit there, since every other table was occupied. Of course I told her okay. She was shaking, as she was putting down her kids. One was around one, and in a lift chair, and the other around three.

“Are you alright?”, I asked.

“Yeah, I'm totally fine. Really.”. She didn't sound like she meant it.

The waitress came over, and the woman ordered a cup of coffee.

“I'm Alex”, I said.

“Hi Alex. I'm Jessica, and this is Brandon and James. James is the youngest.” She was still shaking, but now she was smiling, too. I couldn't figure it out, but I didn't wanna seem rude by asking.

“It's nice to meet you guys. What are you doing out in this weather?”

She looked very uncomfortable when I asked her that, eyes shifting, and hands fidgeting.

“Just out for a walk.”

“Right. I just went to the movie theatre, but the film was fucking ter.. Oh, shit, I'm sorry.”

She didn't get mad, like my mom when I swear. She laughed.

“No, it's fine. I swear like a sailor myself. What film did you watch?”

Her voice was now calmer than it had been when she sat down next to me. She didn't shiver as much anymore, either.

“I don't remember what it's called. It was this kids' movie. Something with a troll. It wasn't even funny. I left after twenty minutes.”

“It's A Troll In Central Park, isn't it?”

“That's the one. I hated it. The part I watched, anyway.”

“Maybe you're not the target demographic.”

“It's a family movie, right? I have a family.”

She laughed again.

“Good point. I..”

She was interrupted by one of the other café patrons.

“Hey, turn up the television! There's been a fire at the multiplex across the street!”

Everyone directed their attention to the television above the counter, except Jessica, who suddenly returned to her panicked state.

“Are you all right?”, I asked.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I just came from there.”

I suddenly noticed something. Brandon had a red mark on his wrist, mostly covered by his shirt.

“Is he okay? Has he been hurt?”

“No, he's fine! It's just a small burn, really, it's..”

“You need to get him to a hospital, right now.”

“I can't.”

“What do you mean you can't? He's hurt.”

“I can't afford it. I don't have insurance.”

I thought about what I could do. I didn't have much money back then, because I'd spent most of my monthly allowance on a mate for my hamster, Aaron. I'd named him after my good friend's little brother, who had a severe case of chipmunk-face. Both hamsters died not too long after these events, when my mom's boyfriend's dog came over to visit, and couldn't control its instincts. I didn't care much. I came to the conclusion that I couldn't help at all. I'm not a fucking doctor.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. My boyfriend just left. He threw us out of the apartment. We don't even have a place to stay tonight. We have nothing. Really. His burn is the least of our worries, for now. I know I'm a bad mother, but..”

“No, you're not. You're doing your best, which makes you hell of a lot better than most moms I know.”

She didn't expect me to be kind, as evident in the fact that her eyes, shiny with tears, lit up like a christmas tree. It didn't last long, though. It was like this was the first time she really understood her situation, like it magically became true because she said it.

“But my best isn't enough. I mean, here I am, homeless and with a wounded kid, and there's nothing I can do.”

“But there's something I can do. My mom and I live on the other side of town, you can stay there for a while.”

“Thanks, but I don't want to bother a complete stranger.”

“Seriously, it's fine. There's room enough.”

I wasn't lying. I was living in the pool-boy-shed, and it was bigger than my friend from town's three-bedroom apartment. And my mom only came home at night, so it wasn't exactly like the place was always riveting and full of life. To tell you the truth, I could really use the company.

“.. Are you sure?”

“I'd be offended if you said no.”

“Better do it, then.”. She smiled through the tears that had begun falling down her face.

I felt like I'd done something worthwhile with my day.

* * *

It was around 11.30 when we arrived home. We had spent the day walking around town, going into more cafés, and we fixed Brandon's arm the best we could with some anti-bacterial stuff and some gauze I'd bought for my last spare change. She thanked me over flowingly, but frankly, I was a bit embarrassed, so I kept diverting her attention to something else. It had been a pretty fantastic day. She was terrific company. She got not all, but most of my pop references, that usually go way over my mom's head, and she was nice to me, in a way that none of my friends are. I can't really explain it any better than that. I'm a bit of an emotional retard, to be honest.

I could tell my mom had arrived home, because her car was in the driveway. At that point in the night, she's either working or sleeping, so I didn't feel like introducing her to Jessica, even if Jessica was very adamant about me getting her permission. But she's pretty lax about who she lets me keep here overnight. I mean, for a month or so, two guys from school practically moved in, and spent all the time not going to school, smoking weed, and playing Dungeons and Dragons. It was a weird time of my life. Anyway, I unlocked the door, and let them in. James was already asleep, and it was obvious that it was way over Brandon's bedtime. I have no idea what time kids go to bed.

“So where do we stay?”, Jessica asked.

“Well, I only have one queen-size bed. So I'm thinking I could make a bed for Brandon in the bathtub. Yeah, I know it's not optimal.”

She laughed when I mentioned the bathtub.

“No, it's fine. It'll get him through the night. And I sleep in your bed?”

“Well, yeah, it's really the only place there is. I could sleep on the floor if you're more comfortable with that.”

“No, don't do that. You've been kind enough. I don't mind at all.”

I made the kid a bed in my bathtub that I never use anyway, because the water out here is full of rust, since it wasn't used from 1978 up until a few years ago, when my mom let me stay out here. Because it was cool to be able to listen to loud music and do other illicit things for a while back in sophomore year, and I kind of got used to it. I always use the bathroom in the house. James was left to sleep in his chair, and I made the bed for an extra person in the bedroom. I brushed my teeth, and when I went into bed, Jessica was already half-asleep. I guess she'd had a long day. I crawled into bed, and without really thinking about it, I put my arm around Jessica. I really liked her.

“What are you doing?”. Oh shit.

“Nothing, I..” She started getting up.

“I think I better leave”, she said, and started putting on her shoes she'd left on the side of the bed.

“I didn't mean anything, I'm sorry! Please stay, I'll sleep on the floor. I'm really sorry..”

“Thank you for being nice to me and paying for my coffee and Brandon's gauze. I appreciate it. I'll leave now.” She sounded really angry.

“Seriously, stay here. I'll go sleep in the house. You won't see any more of me. You don't have anywhere to go!” She had gone to get James and Brandon, and probably couldn't hear anything I was saying anyway. I was just absolutely flabbergasted at her reaction. I didn't know what to do, I hadn't anticipated this.

She rushed past the bedroom, not even glancing at me. I could hear Brandon crying. “Goodbye.”.

She slammed the door, and there I sat. Like I had been run over by a fucking truck. It was strange, because the second Jessica was out of earshot, I started pondering if any of it had happened, at all. The only physical evidence left of our encounter was the bathtub-bed, made up and barely slept in. It was as if I'd just made up the entire thing because my life was really boring, and I was trying to compensate. But I'm pretty sure it all happened. I never un-made the bed-tub, it's still there. I spent the rest of that night lying in it. Not sleeping. I couldn't, really. I just pondered my situation, and read a mixture of stupid bathroom reading material my best friend at the time kept bringing over because he insisted he couldn't take a shit without having something to read, and the book I was reading at the time. Probably something angsty.

I don't really know where I'm going with this story, but it's one of those strange encounters that lie somewhere between reality and dreaming. A real-life Twilight Zone, of sorts. And besides, I don't really know what to do with this story, if not get it out at some point. It doesn't fit into my head that well, anymore, and I've probably modified it endlessly inside my head, without really realizing it. And I wanted to write it down before I completely mauled it. But for me, it's a constant reminder that things work out the way they should, and if you fuck them up, it's damned well your own fault. If I hadn't decided to leave the movie theater when I did, it's likely I would've died in the fire, along with the three other people who attended that screening of Troll in Central Park, and if I hadn't gone to that specific café, I never would've met Jessica. Fate threw this situation at me, and I threw it away, because I'm a fucking idiot. It's a story I keep to myself, because I'm embarrassed that I managed to ruin that situation for everyone involved, but I still like to remember it, as as reminder to do things the right way. Or maybe I just like the story, in and of itself. Or else I like to just cherish the memory. It doesn't really matter, when it comes to the crunch. All I know is that it was time to get it out, and so here it is.