We Used To Go To The Movies

Linda G Hill’s Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “difference.” Whatever the word “difference” conjures first in your mind, write about it. Enjoy!

 

We used to go to the Drive In Movies

me, my brother, sister and Dad because we didn’t have Netflix back then.

Sometimes my Mom went, but movies or maybe being stuck in a car

with all of us wasn’t her thing.

 

Before the movie started we used to play on the swings and slides under the screen

we bought popcorn and candy from the concession stand

that smelled like cigarette smoke, car exhaust and pizza

when I think about that dimly little store I can taste Milk Duds.

 

The Drive had speakers on poles

that crackled and hissed and if it didn’t work

and there weren’t any stalls left

they let you in at the next show and you got free snacks,

 

I used to like to walk between the cars

before the movie started

sometimes I saw people making out or drinking or getting high and  back then,

nobody liked to get pinched by a little kid with a Snoopy toy clutched to her chest.

 

The Drive in held it’s breath, waiting for the sun to set and just as it did

the monsters and pirates and aliens from space climbed down from the

screen and made you laugh and scream and in the middle of the show

smiling  hotdogs and popcorn boxes danced for you at the intermission.

 

The Drive Ins are gone now

there are a few corpses scattered here and there

in fields, behind warehouses

giant screens, rusted swing sets, sometimes a slide painted red and white

 

But do you know what I think?

If you stand there   you can feel the Drive In holding   it’s breath

and I think that as the sunsets the monsters and pirates and aliens from outer space

still climb down from the screens, at least I think they do.

 

 

 

 

Family Reunion

For Fandango’s Flashback Friday

” Family Reunion “

First Published  May 23, 2011

 Grahame Taskill was sitting at his Grandmother’s kitchen table; he was rubbing his left eye to stop it from twitching.

Grahame’s eye always  began to twitch a full week before  he went home to see his family for his annual week long visit and for the entire visit his eye never stopped twitching for longer than a few minutes.

He spent so much time rubbing his left eye that he would have nightmares about it popping out of its socket and running down his face where horror upon horror it would run into his mouth and when he woke up he would practically  break his neck ( he had already broken his big toe ) because for some strange reason when he would dream about his runny eye he would run straight for his bathroom to get a towel to put on his face to keep his other eye from popping and without fail in a desperate effort to save his eyes  he always ran into the wall right next to the bathroom door.

“So Nan, you want this ghost guy-“

“ His name is Mr Bibas and he’s a very talented psychic Grahame, he can actually reach ghosts. They understand him. They listen to him.”

“Okay. You want this psychic to come out here on Saturday to talk to Aunt Leatha “

“That’s right.”

” Because she refuses to talk to you now. “

Grahame took his finger away from his eye and it actually stopped twitching, for about an entire minute. “Uh-huh. Nan, you and Aunt Leatha never really talked when she was alive. So. I’m just wondering why you want to talk to her now. If I remember right you put a bird bath up next to her grave.”

“ So?”

“ Wasn’t she deathly afraid of birds?”

Nan was the picture of innocence itself. “ You’re acting like I danced on her grave Grahame.”

“ I’m thinking the only reason you haven’t done that is because of the poison ivy that’s growing all over it. It’s funny Nan, nobody can figure out where it came from. Nobody remembered there ever being poison ivy up here until it showed up on  Aunt Leatha’s grave.”

“ You don’t say.”

“ I just did.”

“ Well. I just want her to know that we need to let all this silliness between us go. The entire family will be up this weekend and I think it would be good for everyone to see me and Leatha bury the hatchet-“

Grahame ignored the way his Grandmother forced herself to keep from grinning  when she mentioned her sister and the word ” hatchet” .

“ It really is as simple as that Crackers.” She said calling Grahame by his childhood nickname.

“ Let it go Nan, let her go. If not for yourself then for the rest of us. It’s bad enough you and Aunt Leatha hated each other, but you two enjoyed hating each other way too much. Does it bother you even just a little that most of us know how to poison, dismember and hide a body because of the way the two of you used to talk about each other? “

Nan nodded . A wave of gentle sympathy and empathy showed up on her face and too bad they didn’t bring a map and a camera  because , as Grahame would tell you, Nan’s face was unfamiliar territory to those two particular emotions.

“ It was a disgrace the way me and Leatha carried on in life. Besides, look at what that did to you kids. You’re all a bunch of twitching eyes and stutterers and  when the family gets together the pharmacy in town runs out of antacids and I have a sneaky feeling I know where it’s all going.”

“  So. Mr. Bibas is going to come out on Friday night and have dinner with us and after desert he’s going to hold a little séance in the library and me and Leatha are going to patch things up.”

“  There is nothing to patch up. She has moved beyond this stuff and you should too. “

” Mr Bibas knows what he’s doing. He talks to ghosts all the time and they listen to him. ” Nan argued.

To emphasize her point, she slammed her hand on the kitchen table. In the old days Nan could have made he plates and cups dance, but of course all her hand did now was pass through the table.

“ Forget it. “ Aunt Leatha said from the hallway as she strolled by the kitchen door and through the wall next to it to the dining room . ” Tell your Nan I have nothing to say to her.”

Both of Grahame’s eyes began to twitch uncontrollably.