Movieland

Chapter 14

School chattered about the glory of completed finals and summer plans and Free Bird being voted as class song over Time of Your Life. No one noticed Frankie wasn't there because no one ever noticed Frankie. I could tell anyone he had been kidnapped and was being held hostage in an unknown movie in a movieverse as dense as an exploding star and they would say, "Cool, but like, do you know if KFC is still open?"

In some high schools you were Ferris; in others you were Frankie.

"Play it again."

The opening scene from The Dark Knight unfolded. The Joker played it cool, anonymous. His henchmen zip-lined to the rooftop. The simulation was spot on. The white sky. The look and texture of the masks. The soundtrack of screaming strings that no one heard but me. Just like seeing Frankie in the scene when no one else did.

"Stop. There. Rewind. Behind the deposit desk. Look. It's him!"

Carolina didn't see him. Neither did JP. Maybe I didn't either.

"I'm not going crazy. He's there."

We bunched together on the benches outside the Home Econ kitchen. Someone was thirty seconds from burning brownies. The smell flared up another wave of brain pain. The intensity had pulsed since I'd woken up in my bed with a sense that I wasn't alone anymore.

"Pay attention. Play it again."

"We believe you," Carolina said. She looked at a distracted JP, who used the edge of his straw as dental floss. "Well, I believe you."

I forgot how impressively annoying JP's smile was. While appearing perfectly natural, he managed to convey a subtle and unintentional condescension borne completely out of naïveté. In other words, he meant well but came off as a dick.

"Got it," JP said, setting his cup down. "Thing is, buddy, no one else will buy it. I barely do. You don't even remember getting home. Or in new clothes. Did they take you home, change your clothes, and put you to bed?"

"Maybe. Probably. Yes."

"Your parents just ignore all of that? Strangers from the lab dropping their son off in the middle of the day?"

Carolina rested her palm on my twitching hands.

"My mom closes," I said. "Goes in at 2. My dad's out at 5, normally later on Wednesdays. There's a good window. How long does it take to change someone's clothes anyway? Look: believe me or not, but I'm going back out there."

"Why don't we go to A/V and get some editing done," Carolina said. "After that I'll drive you. It's only an hour until end of day. If Frankie really is stuck, what difference is an hour going to make?"

JP said, "Depends on what part of the movie it is."

I said, "Or how fast time moves in there."

Carolina's hair was a post-shower mess of red curls. Whatever it was called, I liked it. Messy hair, French braids. French braids and the shimmer woman and a glimpse of striped fabric and fire detonated behind my eyes. I pushed Carolina's hand off but had already vomited on it. The second detonation ended with a grainy gray splat on the floor.

"Buddy," JP said, already into the Home Econ class, shutting the door behind him.

"I'm sorry," I said, tears stinging my eyes. I no longer smelled brownies.

She held her hand out like a statue with bird poop on its hand. "I anticipate many firsts in the days and weeks to come," she said. "But I hope this is the first and last time either one of us does this. This is disgusting."