Chapter 16 #2
I nod. I like that too. “You’ve seen it?” I ask the guy who is sitting with two women and another man.
“Well…yeah,” he says, as if that’s obvious.
Okay, fair enough. It’s an older movie. Maybe he’s got grandkids. It’s not at all an obscure film.
“Anything else?” Nora asks me.
I start to shake my head, but I look at the group again. They’re all watching me. I had no idea that we were going to watch a movie because it was my favorite, but Nora specifically asked Astrid for a suggestion.
Many of these people have been in the diner when I’ve been there, and I remember how they all want to get to know me. Not about me as a hockey player, even though that’s why I’m in Rebel. They want facts about me as a person.
So I say, “I like the movie because to me it seems it’s about the idea that there’s often more to people than what you see on the surface.
That just because we’ve been told something about a person, or a group of people, if you look deeper, you’ll find out that we have more in common than we have differences. ”
Now Nora beams at me.
Yeah, she wanted a real answer. Well, I gave her one. That’s truly how I feel about the movie.
“I love that,” she says.
“Oh, I see that,” a woman off to the left says. “Like the idea that the monsters are supposed to be scary, but we immediately see them just going to work, and that they have families and friends, co-worker drama, paperwork, and all kinds of really normal things we can all relate to.”
“And they’re only scary because it’s their job. When they’re not working, they’re just like us. They have all the same emotions and experiences we do,” someone says.
“And of course there’s the message of laughter being stronger than the screams,” someone else says. “That happiness is stronger than fear. That’s such a great message.”
I’ve lean toward Nora. “Are they spoiling it?”
“What do you mean?”
“All of this discussion before we watch the movie might spoil it for the people who haven’t seen it.”
“But they’ve all seen it.”
I frown. “You’re going to make them watch a movie they’ve already seen? They’re going to be so bored.”
“If they already saw it, they didn’t have to watch again.”
“What?” I ask.
“What?” she asks in return, seeming puzzled.
We just stare at each other for a second.
“I had an imaginary friend when I was a kid,” the man near the front says.
Muriel is sitting next to him and says, “Sully wasn’t Boo’s imaginary friend. He was the monster in her closet.”
“But there aren’t really monsters,” the guy says.
“In the movie there were. But they weren’t monsters like we’re used to thinking of them,” another man says.
“So you think those monsters were real?” the first man says. “In the movie?”
The guy he’s talking to shifts on his lawn chair to look at him more fully. “You don’t?”
“I just assumed it was all part of the kid’s imagination.”
“But there were multiple kids,” Muriel says.
“There were?”
I look at Nora. She’s got the microphone cradled to her chest, and she’s watching the group talk with a smile on her face.
“Did you believe in monsters as a kid?” a man to our right asks the people around him.
At least, I think that’s who he asks. He’s not talking to the group, who is still debating if the monsters in the movie were real or in the little girl’s head, or imaginary for everyone in some existential commentary on how we let our fears become too big and real sometimes.
“I did,” a woman with bright red curls says. “I was sure that werewolves and vampires were real.”
“Are vampires monsters?” Patty asks.
“How are they not monsters?” the redhead asks.
“Well, they look like humans, right?” Patty asks. “And aren’t they human before they get turned? I think of monsters like the ones in the movie. They’re always monsters. Not something else that turns into something.”
“Werewolves are human before they turn into werewolves, right?” someone else asks.
“I think so. Do they get bit too? Like vampires?”
“Yes. And like zombies.”
“What about Godzilla and King Kong?” someone new asks. “Are they monsters?”
“Well, obviously,” Muriel replies.
“Why obviously? What makes a monster a monster? Because Godzilla is a gigantic dinosaur or something, right? And King Kong is a gigantic gorilla. Is something a monster just because it’s big?”
“Monster trucks are really big,” a man further back says.
“So the word monster just means big?” Patty asks. “Don’t they also have to be scary?”
“Yes!” a few people chorus.
“For sure,” a woman says. “I have a gigantic dog, but he’s the biggest marshmallow ever. Definitely not scary, and not a monster!”
Several people laugh.
“Movies with dogs in them are always the best,” someone off to the left and back says.
There’s a lot of nodding.
I feel my eyebrows arching.
But I can’t stop watching Nora.
She’s glowing.
She fucking loves this. She’s clearly in her element.
I bet she looks the same way at Garden Club, and Otter Club.
I can’t wait to see her at hockey.
I can’t. I want her smiling like that while she watches us—me—play. No, I want her even more excited. I want her yelling and cheering and…laughing and singing along.
If I’m going to fucking sing and dance, I want to look to the stands and see Nora singing and shaking it with me.
“But the little girl calls Sully kitty,” someone calls out. “She doesn’t think he’s a dog!”
People laugh.
“That’s true!”
“He should have been a dog,” the first guy says. “Movies with dogs are always the best.”
“I don’t think Old Yeller was!” someone shouts.
More laughter and some groans.
I finally can’t stay quiet as I look out over the group. They’re moving about, returning to the snack table, everyone just calling out pieces of conversation, some smaller groups are having their own conversations the rest of us can’t hear.
I step closer to Nora. “Have they all seen the movie?” I ask.
She looks up at me. “Of course. They watched it before they got here.”
I frown, thinking that over. “They watched the movie before movie night?”
“Yes, how else would they be able to discuss it?”
“You intended to just discuss it?” I ask, stupidly.
“Yes. With all the conversation everyone always wants to have, it takes us forever to get through a movie when we’re stopping and starting it as we go—”
“You stop and start it as people want to talk during the movie?” I ask.
“Well, no. Not anymore. We did that the first two times, but then I realized it was better to just let them talk. That was the fun part.”
I blink at her. “The fun part of movie night was the talking?”
“Of course. Anyone can watch a movie. By themselves, in groups, with one other person. But if you want to discuss it, you need a group that has all seen it. So we all watch the movie ahead of time and then get together to talk about it.”
I look over my shoulder at the screen. “But…the screen.”
“Sometimes we play a clip or something if someone wants to rewatch a certain thing for the sake of the discussion or to make a point,” she says. “But we couldn’t get the movie working on Bill’s laptop tonight. So that’s just decoration.”
She grins, truly unbothered.
“This sounds like a book club but with movies,” I say.
She nods. “Yeah, it’s a lot like book club.”
“Why don’t you just have a book club?”
“We do have a book club.”
Of course they do.
“All Dogs Go to Heaven is definitely the best,” someone is yelling from the back.
“Turner and Hooch!” someone else calls.
“Marley and Me!”
“I had a cat named Marley once,” a man says. “Smartest cat I ever met.”
“I love cats, but I have birds now, and I’m telling you, they are so smart,” a woman behind him says.
“Birds really are smart,” Muriel says. “Did you know, if you feed crows, they’ll bring you gifts as a thank you? Like beads and rocks and stuff.”
“Oh! I had a raven that did that once!” someone says excitedly.
“Well, obviously, I feed my birds,” the woman who started this says. “I wouldn’t not feed them!”
“No one said you didn’t feed your birds, Natalie!” Muriel says.
“Why did you bring up wild birds? We were talking about pets!”
“I had a chinchilla once. Very cool pet.”
I’ve lost track of who is saying what. Things are being called out from all over the collection of chairs and blankets in front of the “movie screen” that is now truly just a white sheet between two wooden poles.
“Do they talk?”
“The chinchillas?”
“No, the birds!”
“I don’t think crows talk.”
“I mean Natalie’s birds!”
I’m watching this with wide eyes. What the actual fuck is happening? “They’re talking about birds now,” I tell Nora, unnecessarily.
“Yep.” She nods happily. “And chinchillas.”
“You’re losing control.”
“Control of what?”
“The…movie night.”
“Am I?” She turns to face me.
No one is paying attention to us anymore.
“Aren’t you?” I ask. “They’re not watching a movie, they’re not talking about the movie, they’re not talking about any movies at all.”
“Do you want to talk about the movie some more?” she asks, handing the mic to me. “Go ahead. They’d love to hear from you.”
I quickly put up a hand. “No. I didn’t mean that.”
“Then why do you care what they’re talking about?”
“It’s just…it’s movie night.”
She laughs. “Well, that’s what brought everyone here,” she agrees.
I shake my head. “You can’t honestly think I’m wrong for showing up here on movie night expecting to sit in the dark, watch a movie, and make out with you.”
Her smile changes. Now it’s got a mischievous edge. “Is that what you were planning?”
I lean closer. “Of course.”
“Well, that’s not how this works.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised that even movie night isn’t what I expect it to be with you, should I?” I ask, realizing it even as I say it.
Nothing about being in Rebel has been as expected, and about ninety percent of that has to do with this woman.
“I guess I could have explained it to you. But I didn’t want to spoil the surprise,” she says.
“What surprise?”
“The surprise of it being your favorite movie tonight.”
“Oh, yeah…that is a surprise. Why did you want it to be my favorite movie?”