February 11th, 1981

When I was growing up, I lived in the country. The only neighbor my family had was an old man named Arthur Foreman. I called him “Charlie” because that was his dog’s name and for some reason I thought it was his name, too. We can all be a bit goofy as children, huh?

Anyway, each summer his granddaughter, Carrie, would come to visit him. Living out in the sticks as I did, I had no other children to mess around with, so it all came down to playing with Carrie. We had a lot of fun, but boy oh boy she sure did cry a lot. I remember one time we were going to eat lunch and her hands got a bit dirty. The girl cried over it! Why? I honestly have no idea, and neither did my mother, but we got her quieted down and eventually ate. Jeez.

So, we all finally grew up. I didn’t see Carrie as much during my teenage years, but knew that she was around. She was basically another face in the high school hallways. I’m sure you know what I mean. We didn’t talk like we did when we were children, though we remained friendly.

Eventually, after high school, I got married. My wife went to college and became a school teacher. And wouldn’t you know it? One of her fellow teachers turned out to be Carrie. So my relationship with her continued once my wife befriended her, too. Was Carrie still a crier? At the time, I was unsure. Honestly, I didn’t give it much thought. But one thing that I did know was that she was going to turn into an old spinster if she didn’t find herself a man. And it wasn’t that she was ugly (she was rather quite attractive); I think it was simply because she was afraid.

Anyway, my wife got her a date with another teacher. Personally, I couldn’t stand Bob. I’m not really sure why, but something about him always rankled me. And wouldn’t you know it, but my wife had arranged for a double-date with them. Oh brother. At least I got lucky and was allowed to pick the movie we were going to watch. Yes, it was My Bloody Valentine.

My wife didn’t like the idea of going to a slasher film as a first date for Bob and Carrie, but I was relentless. If I was going to be subjected to this, at least I should be able to have some fun with it. And what better way for a new couple to attend a horror film? Bob would have his hands full with Carrie. The poor girl was practically afraid of her own shadow, so he should have his hands all over her by the end of the night. It was a win-win situation. I would get to see a new slasher film, and Bob might get lucky. Everybody’s happy.

The day we decided to go, which was opening night, was extremely wintery. I can’t remember how many inches of snow had fallen, but the roads were icy. I had to drive us over to pick up Carrie who, once in the car, barely muttered a word. I can recall thinking that she was scared to death. Why? Was it simply because she was going out with a geek like Bob? I couldn’t believe it. When we got around to Bob’s apartment, at least he was a little chattier once he climbed into the backseat. Still, you could feel the ice that coated Carrie.

I was so glad once we reached the theater. It had been an arduous trek. Not only was it in the next city over (which was a fifteen-minute drive), but the roads had been very slippery. Add all that to Bob’s inane ramblings and Carrie looking like she wanted to hang her head out the window like a sick dog and well... You have the beginnings of a great night, huh? I did my best to smile and act cordial, but once we were in the auditorium and the lights dimmed, thank God. I could finally lose myself in the film.

However, midway through My Bloody Valentine, Carrie simply couldn’t take it anymore. She’d already screamed at the appropriate times in the movie, and I thought she was having a great time. I know I was. My Bloody Valentine is an excellent slasher. Carrie, though, had seen enough. Crying (yes, dear God, the girl was crying), she got up and left the auditorium. Bob, a bit stunned, followed her outside to the lobby. My wife got up, too. She wanted me to come with her, but no way, buddy. I’m watching the movie. So I was left being the villain as my wife went out to the lobby to be with Bob and Carrie. Personally, I felt as if she should’ve left them to their own devices, but who am I?

After the movie, we all climbed back into the car. Carrie had finally gotten over her crying jag and Bob, who had once been so talkative, had now been diminished to simply sitting there looking bewildered. I couldn’t blame him. His date had freaked out at a movie. What else was she capable of? To say I was elated to drop both of them off at their respective homes is an understatement.

And yeah, I got read the riot act from my wife. But I didn’t care. My Bloody Valentine had been great! It was a small price to pay to hear a bit of bitching.

Whatever became of Carrie? Unless I’m mistaken, she never went out with Bob, again. I do know that a few years after the movie incident, she moved to California. From the bit of information I could gleam from Charlie, she married and had a few kids. Good for Carrie! Of course, I’m still left to wonder whether she cries at the drop of a hat.

All I know is that I’m damned glad I’m not going to be around to see it.


Written by Trever Palmer

No comments

The author does not allow comments to this entry