The bright red painted walls at the back are decorated with old movie posters in black frames. There’s DennisHopper inEasy Rider, the cast of the 1960sLost in Spaceseries, and my favourite, Steve McQueen’sBullitt. Pa and Jace would watch that on repeat when I was little. That’s how Jace got his nickname.
The register is on the left wall. Across the foyer is the cinema section, with its ticket booth and stairs leading up to the theatre. It’s not open yet, but there’s someone behind the concession counter, tipping corn kernels into a machine. This place has been around almost as long as the old speedway, even surviving the arrival of bigger cinemas in Empire City. The owner, Mr Nessic, had to get creative though, with midnight showings of classic movies and dress-up events. And everyone knows if you want the best homemade cookies, courtesy of Mrs Nessic, you come to the six o’clock showing, whatever it is. You come for the cookies and stay for the movie.
Even though the cinema is in a separate section to the record store, the scent of buttered popcorn wafts over and mixes with the vintage vinyl records to create the smell of childhood nostalgia.
I peek out the window to make sure Chuckie is okay. I’m usually allowed to bring him everywhere I go, but when he was a puppy, he peed on a stack of records and Mr Nessic hasn’t let me forget it.
I still have Pa’s old record player at home, and it feels so good to hear it playing around the house. Chuckie loves it.
I flick through some of the newer records, loving the feel of the hard cardboard spines against my fingertips. Dire Straits … Red Hot Chili Peppers … Pink Floyd … Fleetwood Mac …
‘I know coming here reminds you of your dad.’ Monique appears, holding a coffee cup in each hand. ‘But can you hurry?This place stinks and I want to hit the fabric store.’ After placing a reusable ceramic cup in my hand, she dramatically covers her nostrils with her index and middle fingers.
I chuckle, still flipping through the records. She’s right, there’s always a hint of must in the air from the old carpets and dusty red velvet curtains. ‘But Monz, have you noticed? The guy at the ticket booth has been eyeing you off ever since we walked in.’ I nod across the foyer to the tanned man with dark hair.
‘Yeah?’ Monique’s eyes light up and she sneaks a glance. The guy smiles and that’s all the invitation she needs.
Monique twirls and heads his way. ‘Take your time, babes,’ she calls back over her shoulder.
My phone buzzes and I pull it out of my pocket, sighing when I see the contact name. She’s being persistent this week. Deciding I can’t prolong the inevitable any longer, I swipe to accept the call.
‘Hi, Ma.’
‘Anak, honey,’ she chirps, ‘I thought I was going to get your voicemail again. You must be busy?’
‘I’m actually at Paradiso.’
‘Just too busy for me then?’
I roll my eyes upward, trying to find patience in the sun-stained ceiling. The shadows of leaves dance with the golden rays filtering through the front window.
‘I’m with Monz,’ I retort dryly.
‘Oh good, what a darling. I love that girl. I won’t keep you then, I was just wanting to let you know I haveBullittready for this week.’
Every year, the same damn tradition. It tears my chest in two to sit down and commemorate everything we lost in the form of a two-hour movie. It’s fucking heartbreaking.
‘Did you forget?’ she questions as the silence drags on.
A snarl twists my face. ‘You’re kidding, right? How can I forget, Ma?’
‘So, you’ll be here?’
The thought of her sobbing on the couch next to me digs into my brain, scratching at the same wound, never letting it heal.
‘I don’t think watching a movie every year is going to heal us, Ma. If it was, it would have worked any of the last three times. I’d rather spend the time planning. I almost have enough money to buy the speedway—’
‘The speedway? Gia …’ Ma’s disappointment bleeds into the smoothness of her velvety tone.
All the big developers from Empire City and beyond have tried purchasing that block of land. They all want to tear everything down and build apartments. It’s currently looked after by the Heritage Society – rumour has it that it’s under conditional bequest – but I have a gut feeling whoever now owns this site would want to see it back to its former glory. Which is exactly my plan.
Ma’s always shut down my plans for the speedway, though for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.
‘You’re still chasing this pipedream? The speedway is a waste of time. If it wasn’t a heritage site, it would have been torn down by now. Everyone in the community knows how much pollution it causes, too. It will never be reopened.’
‘But it’s stillthere, and that’s the point. It could be something great. The emissions aren’t even a problem, there are so many car options now. The speedway could be restored to the place Pa fell in love with and—’
‘That’s enough,’ Ma snaps. ‘You don’t know what your father would want.’
