Page 10 of Edge

Ooh, he’d get a hot dogfrom Barry’s booth, he mused, mouth salivating at the thought of abockwurst, ketchup, mustard, and sweet onions sandwiched between asoft bun. He’d nip out into the busy city and leg it down to thenext corner to visit the hot dog stand.

He felt a quick sense ofguilt—he was sure he still owed Barry for the last two dogs he’deaten—but suppressed it as quickly as it arrived. He’d given Barrya couple of free passes into his uncle’s cinema and Damian figuredthey were even. His tummy rumbled and he grinned and patted hisbelly. “I’ll feed you, I promise. You know I like to watch everyonetake their seats first so the show can begin. Then I’ll take careof you.”

Damian finished hisdrink, stood, then peered through the viewing slot again. Peoplewere beginning to mill about and find their seats as the auditoriumgrew in noise levels with children laughing and the odd teenagerbeing foolish. Damian loved this part of his day: watching peoplecome in to enjoy a film. Looking without a care in the world andall heavily laden with popcorn, huge cups of drink, and theoccasional hotdog. Which made him think of his futuremeal.

The film todaywas a kiddie’s one. A new animated movie called Marvellous Moo, a sweet film about asuperhero cow and her bunch of farm animal sidekicks. Damian foundthe whole storyline charming and knew he’d watch it by himself, ifhe got the chance. There was no way any of his Grindr “dates” wouldwant to watch a cow in a cape solving mysteries.

Thinking of dates…Damian’s brain took him back to the chance meeting with the veryhot, tattooed, grumpy so-called rock star he’d met in Starbucks twoweeks ago. The slim, sexy man with bright blue eyes, full, kissablelips, and coal-black hair begging for someone to run their handsthrough it hadn’t been far from his thoughts since.

And pillock he was,Damian hadn’t even managed to get his name or find out which grouphe was with. He knew it was something to do with rock music,because the guy’s reaction when Damian had ever so slightly dissedit had been rather passionate. Damian preferred house musichimself, and dance beats you could get down and dirty to on thedance floor.

He imagined the guy waspart of a local attraction, perhaps a tribute band. Damian hadnever met a real celebrity in all his life, and he doubted his luckhad changed much lately.

“He was sofucking hot,” he murmured to himself as he got ready to turn downthe lights and leave the audience to their flying cow. “Needed abit of fattening up, though. He looked as if he could do with atasty family meal. Probably more used to drink and pills.” Hegrimaced at the thought, and then felt ashamed because, wow,stereotype much?

He was always placed inthe cute geek or nerd category because he wore glasses, he readgraphic novels, not comics, and worked in an old cinema. Little didpeople know he also loved jujitsu, a sport that kept him fit, andtinkering with old motorbikes. His trusted 1969 Honda 175,nicknamed Sally, residing in his garage might be a work inprogress, but she ran well. When she was finally all done up, helooked forward to taking her on longer runs into thecountryside.

A sudden knock on theprojection booth door startled his musings, and he turned to seethe smiling face of his uncle at the entrance.

“All done,mate? Everything okay?”

Damian nodded. “Yep, allsorted. The patrons are currently enjoying the antics of a kick-asscow. How were the refreshment sales?”

Dave heaved a heavy sigh.“Not as good as I’d hoped, but not bad. I found one young couplewith kids trying to smuggle in a whole load of sweets and crispsunder their jackets, and another old lady had a whole bloody coldroast chicken stuffed under her jumper. I ask you. A whole damnchicken!”

“You let hertake it in, didn’t you, Dibbs?” Damian teased, the nickname rollingeasily of his tongue. He knew his uncle. As much as he rued thefact he wasn’t making a small profit on the food and drink hesupplied, Damian had never known him to confiscate anything fromanyone.

Dave looked shamefaced.“She was about ninety. I didn’t have the heart to take it away fromher. I asked her to sit in the back and keep it quiet, though. Nobones cracking and sucking sounds to interrupt the otherpeople.”

Damian sniggered.“Sucking? Do you know the other night I found a young lady givingher boyfriend a blow job in the front row? You couldhear—”

“Enough,” Davepleaded. “You’re twenty-six years old, lad, not a teenager. Thesethings shouldn’t give you as much pleasure as they do.” His facecrinkled into a crafty grin. “Now, if you’d seen two blokes at it,I could imagine you’d have gotten a lot more fun out ofit.”

Damianpretended to be scandalised, but deep inside, his heart warmed. Hisuncle had been such a trooper when he’d come out at seventeen, andeven now, he made Damian being gay nothing out of the norm. “I begyour pardon. I’m no window peeper. I don’t watch thatstuff.” Though I have my subscription toPornhub.

Dave guffawed. “Oh, sothose porn magazines I found under your bed when you were a youthwere someone else’s, yeah? Don’t pull the wool over an old man’seyes, youngster.”

Damian chuckled.“Busted.” He gazed fondly at the spry, middle-aged man in front ofhim. His uncle still looked younger than he was, and his carefullytousled silver hair gave him an air of sophistication. “I’ve beendying for a hotdog, so I’m going to go buy a couple. Do you fancyone?”

“Go on then.I’ll even pay for it,” Dave said as he reached into the pocket ofthe loose chinos he liked to wear. “My treat.”

Damian wasn’t going toargue because it was still a week to payday and he was on the barebones of his arse money-wise. Motorcycle parts for Sally had soakedup all his cash, but he didn’t begrudge her it. He was also hopinghis weekly drink date tonight might be sponsored by his bestie,Scott. “Cool. I’ll pop out now.”

He picked up his wallet,brushed past Dave, and flew down the rickety metalstairs.

***

An hour later, repletewith two hotdogs under his belt and a large fizzy drink, Damianleaned back in his chair with a satisfied grunt. He sat in thecorner of the cosy cafeteria at the front of house. This was whatmade The Animus special. Patrons could enjoy snacks and coffee,even a beer or a glass of wine, while waiting for their show tostart. Then, of course, there were the more modern but highlypopular offerings at The Animus Restaurant, coupled with the quainthistory of film museum his uncle took pride in updating as theyears moved on.

Uncle Dave had been withthis theatre for over thirty years and had seen many changes. Fromone film studio to another as the years went by, even a couple oftheatre closures, picketing action, and a mysterious death back inthe 1950s, he claimed the theatre had a unique story to tell.Damian loved history, so for him this place held as much magic asit had when he was a kid and his parents had taken him to see thefilms he loved.

“Excuse me, doyou work here?” A soft voice interrupted his reminiscing. Damianlooked up at the cute ten-year-old standing before him.

“Yeah, I do.How can I help you?” He stood and brushed the crumbs off hist-shirt, groaning inwardly at the splash of mustard on hiswaistcoat. This wasn’t quite the image he wanted to represent asfront-of-house manager.

The little girl pointedover to the toilet area. “My brother locked himself in the toiletand he’s crying because he can’t get out.” Her face grew serious.“He’s littler than me and I was s’posed to look after him. Do youthink I’ll be in trouble?” She looked ready to burst into tears andDamian hastened to reassure her.

“Oh no. I’msure no one will blame you. Little boys do silly things all thetime, don’t they? Let’s go rescue him.”