Number Six (Part 2)

“What do you think Rosie,” Tom said, “should we let him tell his story or move on without him?”

Rosemary thought for a minute.  “Let him have his say,” she said, “but let’s at least go inside.  My toes are cold, and I’m not wearing my feetie pajamas.  I’m sure with your testosterone flowing you’re both warm but my estrogen’s doing nothing for me.”

“Okay with you Baby Huey?” Tom said to Phil.

“Cut the crap,” Phil said, pushing Tom aside to try and open the door.  “I don’t even know who Baby Huey is.”

Working together Tom and Phil had no trouble prying open the door.  It opened with a protesting screech.  Looking inside they could see only blackness, especially in contrast to the pure snow all around them.

“When you go inside, close your eyes and keep them closed for a full minute,” Tom said.

“Why?” Phil asked.

“It will help your eyes adjust quicker,” Tom said, smiling at Phil’s discomforting look.  “An old cinema trick my dad taught me.”

Tom took Rosemary’s hand and the three entered.  Once inside Phil closed his eyes.  Through his closed eyelids he could see all light disappear as Tom closed the door.

“Okay,” Tom said after about half a minute had passed.  “Everybody open.”

Phil opened his eyes and still saw almost nothing.  What little he could see was from the miniscule light seeping in from around the doorway.  He thought he could make out another doorway across the theater.

“Nope,” Rosemary said.  “The closing-your-eyes trick did nothing for me.”

“You always joke around like this?” Phil said.

“I’m just trying to put you at ease,” Rosemary said.  “Some people are uncomfortable around the disabled.”

“Yeah,” Phil said, “well maybe you should take off your sunglasses.  Maybe that would help.”

After a moment both Tom and Rosemary exploded with laughter.

“Phil, that was a good one,” Tom said.  “Nice to see you start to lighten up.”

“Where are we?” Phil said.

“We’re in one of the old theaters,” Tom said.  “Here,”  Tom reached in and pulled something out of his backpack.  A click, and then there was light.

“Phew!” Rosemary said.  “It smells like a drive-through dumpster!”

“Interesting comparison,” Phil said.  He inhaled.  There was a smell of decay and mold in here, but he caught a whiff of perfume as well.  Some sort of flowery scent.  He looked at Rosemary for a second, then looked away.

Tom’s flashlight panned across the empty auditorium.  All the seats had been removed.  The floor along the walls was lined with refuse and remnants of homeless people – clothes, sleeping bags, food containers.

“What if someone’s in here with us?” Phil said.  “You know, like a homeless person.”

“Relax,” Tom said.  “I brought my dad’s gun.”

“You what?” Phil said.

“What?” Tom said.  “You think I would come unprepared in case of something like that?  He doesn’t think I know about his hiding spot on top of the bookcase, but I do.”  Tom looked at Phil, smiling.  “Have you ever even seen a gun?”

“No, and I don’t want to,” Phil said.

“Are we going to check this place out?  Explore a little?” Rosemary said.

“Nah.  This place’ll do,” Tom said.  He put his backpack down, surveying the area.  “See that curtain?” he said, pointing to a big draped curtain covering the movie screen.  “That curtain used to come up when the movie started and go down when it was over.  There’s a big metal bar at the bottom, runs the length of the curtain.  For fun I used to hold onto the bar and my dad would raise the curtain and I’d ride it all the way to the top of the screen and the all the way down again.”

“Weren’t you ever worried about falling, or your dad leaving you hanging up there or something?” Phil said.

Tom shook his head, still looking at the curtain.

“Let me see,” Rosemary said.

Tom took her hand and walked her over to the curtain.  Phil stayed and watched from where he was.  Tom took her hand and placed it on the curtain.  Her fingers explored the fabric.

“See?” Tom said.  “This is a red velvet.  It’s probably got a lot of dust on it, especially in the folds, but the velvet’s still nice and smooth.  Watching the curtain go up just before the picture started, the anticipation it created, it was a little bit of magic.”

Rosemary continued to feel the curtain.  When she was done she wiped her hand on her pants and turned to Tom.

“Nice,” she said.

Tom led Rosemary back over to where Phil was.  All three were silent, lost in their thoughts.

“So,” Rosemary said.  “What now?”

“Now,” Tom said, “I break out the candles and the Ouija board and we get down to business.”

“Hell no,” Phil said.  “You didn’t tell be about that.  There’s no way you’re getting me to use that thing!”

“Easy now,” Tom said.  “You don’t have to use it.  Rosemary and I will.  How’s that?”

“How’s about we all go home, all the better for not knowing what happened when you held your seance,” Phil said.  “That sounds good to me.”

“Look,” Tom said.  “I’m going through with this, all right?  You don’t have to.”

“You’re going through with it?” Phil said.  “What about Rosemary?  Doesn’t sound like you’re giving her a choice!”

“Of course I have a choice,” Rosemary said.  “And I want to do this too.  I want to know just as much as he does.”

“You think using that thing to talk to dead people is going to help you?” Phil said.  “I’m telling you it’s nothing but trouble, not to mention the fact that I’m bad luck.”

“Fine,” Tom said.  “Before you go off on another rant, tell me then, why shouldn’t we do this, and why are you bad luck.  Convince me.”

“Okay,” Phil said.