Mysterious Movie Man by Sarah Leeper
I really like to go to the movies. My friends always laugh when I recite the star ratings for each movie in alphabetical order playing at the Showcase Cinema. Whenever we play “Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon” with movie actors, I win.
My friends and I were all sitting in our seats at the theater one evening, waiting for the 7:30 pm showing of The Illusionist to begin (I don’t know how they got me to pay for that ticket- the movie got a four out of ten!) As usual, we were playing the Kevin Bacon game to kill time as the boring pre-show ads flashed on the screen.
“Alright,” my friend Amy started, “Helena Bonham Carter to Bruce Willis. Go!”
I sped through my mental repertoire of names; Helena Bonham Carter to Johnny Depp in Corpse Bride to Orlando Bloom in Pirates of the Caribbean to Kirsten Dunst in Elizabethtown… But what next?
“Come on, Jenny!” urged Jason, “You’re on world record pace!”
I was stumped. This hadn’t happened in a while! I racked my brain, grasping for a light in the dark, any name…
“…to Josh Hartnett in Virgin Suicides,” a gravely male voice from somewhere behind me rasped the answer.
“Ohhhhh!” Amy shouted, her hand cupped over her mouth in imitation of the audience on every ghetto rap showdown I’d ever seen.
“Shut up!” I was a bit frustrated at first. I should have known that. Who the heck is that guy anyway? I brushed it all off with a giggle.
“You just got schooled!” Jason told me. As if I didn’t know.
Just then, the lights dimmed and brightened, signaling the start of the
movie.
“Preview time-yes!” exclaimed Amy as she and Jason
shifted in their seats to get comfy and grabbed for the Raisinets. I
turned around just a bit when no one was looking, and peered back into
the darkness. There was only one other person in the theater, sitting
right behind us- he must be the guy! A Mystery Man. As the lights
were going down, a dark cast spread over him like the setting sun on a
grave stone. Shadow crept down from under the brim of his fedora,
obscuring a wrinkled face. I watched as his gnarled hands pulled a bag
of store-bought popcorn from the inside of his weathered trench coat.
I glanced back one more time at him as the opening credits began their
slow march across the screen.
I turned again, “What comes
after Josh Hartnett?” I whispered to him, curious to know the last
piece in our puzzle. He tilted his wobbly chin up a bit so he could
see me through the shadows under his hat brim.
“Who is it?” I
persisted. A surprisingly toothy grin spread across his weathered
face. Okay that’s more than a little creepy…
“What’s the answer?” I was really perplexed now. What did this guy find so funny? Why was he still smiling at me like that?
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