Movieland

Chapter 9

Starlight Drive-In Theater had been around since 1951.

At their peak, over 4,000 drive-in theaters spread around the states. Families liked the cozy atmosphere. Children could run around outside. Parents could bring babies. People smoked and drank. Rather than being stuck inside a theater, audiences had more flexibility. However, movies can't start until dark, so showings were limited, which meant lower ticket sales. The flexibility of cars also meant many people brought their own food and beverages. Everyone knows the real moneymaker is concessions. Over time most drive-ins closed, and giant lonely screens loomed over barren fields and parking lots like forgotten legends. Numbers dwindled until only 300 existed across America.

Starlight was set to make it 299 last year when a hefty donation came in from an anonymous donor. No one knew the exact amount, only that it would keep Lindley folks happy for years to come. Carolina could finally take down her op-ed titled "Save Our Clock Tower" from The Lindley Daily News.

People around town assumed the anonymous donor was local celebrity and former B-Movie Star Standard Lane. He grew up in Lindley, excelling in football and baseball and hotdog eating contests on the beach. A random fact many fans don't know: he should be credited for inspiring Jean Claude Van-Damme's perm mullet. During the 80s and early 90s he'd starred in a handful of explosive action hits, most of them with three-word titles like Heading to War, Death for All, Death to the Dead, and Blow it Up.

Out of boredom or shoddy advice, he pivoted into rom coms like Marry Me Twice and Lovesick Nick. His filmography fizzled. Apart from action movie marathons on cable, you could spot him as the concerned husband in televised ads for eczema medication.

Nowadays people talked about encountering him like Nessie tall tales. As far as anyone knew, he never left his mansion out in the hills west of town. Recluse or not, we were all happy he saved Starlight.

We drove up in Frankie's bone white '99 Chevy Impala that trembled like a frightened mouse. The glowing letters of Starlight descended the left side of the marquee. To the right of that it read Twin Drive-In Theater. The signs below that read CONTEST DRAWING TONIGHT, and below that, MOVIES EVER NIHT, and below that, FLEA MARKET SUN, 6 AM. A flashing arrow marked ENTRANCE pointed towards the field which neared capacity.

"I saw Standard Lane once," Frankie said, steering into the field.

"I don't believe you."

"What? I did."

"You also claimed you ate your weight in pizza at Fratelli's."

"Because I did!"

"And that you saw a freak lightning storm out here during the flea market. Totally blue skies and the sky opens up like a blackhole."

"Also true."

He found an empty spot near the end of the back row. Now that I was at the event, I was overthinking our location. Normally we parked midway down a center row for an optimal viewing experience. At least once it ended, we could make a quick getaway. Unless Carolina wanted to hang out. Unless what? Where was my head at?

Frankie looked at me funny. "You alright?"

"Lot going on up here," I said.

"You had a month to enter. No reason to beat yourself up over it now. Let's enjoy the show."

He rolled the windows down and hung his hand out. I did the same with my cast, admiring the drawings and messages.

"I'm serious," he said. "I went to that Indian grocery store over by the laundromat to cook a meal for my mom. There was Standard Lane, shopping for curry powder."