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You are reading from:
HORROR ON RIVER ROAD
(BOOK 14)
by Roy MacGregor
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"THANKS A LOT, PAL!"
Travis Lindsay's voice shook. He could feel the blood rising in his face, his
throat stinging from the sharp rasp of his own words. He couldn't remember ever
being so angry at his best friend, Wayne Nishikawa.
They were standing outside the Bluebird Theatre, Tamarack's only movie house, and
Travis had his fists stabbed down as far as possible in the pockets of his
Screech Owls team jacket. He was surprised at how tightly clenched they felt,
like they needed to be contained before something terrible happened.
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Travis had never hit anyone in his life - not even in a hockey game - but he
knew, in an instant, how easily it could happen. If Nish had been standing there
in his full hockey equipment, helmet included, instead of in a T-shirt and shorts
with that stupid sheepish look on his face, Travis might have tried to hammer him
into the ground to make his point. But all he could do was yell.
"You stupid idiot! What were you thinking?"
Travis knew he was headed down a useless road with that question. Nish didn't
think. Nish just acted. And he had acted the perfect fool this evening.
Travis had waited all week for this movie. He and Nish had seen parts I, II, III,
IV, V, VI, and VII of The Blood Children - "Most Frightening Hollywood Sequels
Ever Made!" "Two Stumps Up!" - and finally Part VIIII had arrived in Tamarack on
a Saturday night in early June. They were determined to be there for the very
first showing of what was sure to be a long run.
The two friends - make that former friends - had watched the first seven movies
in the blood-curdling series in the comfort of Nish's living room. Nish had
somehow convinced his long-suffering mother that there was something
"educational" in movies that featured one-eyed, slimy aliens from outer space,
haunted graveyards, flashing blood-stained scythes, rolling heads, exploding
eyes, hideous zombies, and spine-tingling, horrific screams.
"Trav and I believe," Nish had told his poor mother, all the while winking behind
her back at Travis, "that all such movies should be banned."
Mrs. Nishikawa, one of the sweetest, most naive human beings Travis had ever
known, had nodded slowly as she stacked the dishes, a small smile on her face
showing how proud she was of her well-meaning son.
"What we want to do," Nish had continued, as if making a speech, "is work on a
school project on how harmful horror movies can be to kids." He neglected to
mention that the movies were all rated AA.
Mrs. Nishikawa had thought it an excellent idea and congratulated Nish on showing
such maturity. But Travis knew differently. He couldn't believe how trusting Mrs.
Nishikawa could be. Did she not realize school was almost out for the summer
holidays and that no one would be doing school work? He wondered if she would
ever ask to see their project after they had supposedly written it up.
But Mrs. Nishikawa had never asked to see anything. She even made them popcorn
and brought in cold pop as Nish and Travis happily watched one rented Blood
Children movie after the other - something the Lindsays would never permit Travis
to do - until they had enjoyed all seven.
Travis could never decide whether he really liked horror movies. He liked to be
frightened, but not terrified. He liked being scared, so long as he was certain
it would quickly pass. At Nish's house, Travis was able to make sure he had every
safety device at his disposal: the pause button on the remote control, the
washroom, bright lights in the Nishikawa living room, and, if necessary, Mrs.
Nishikawa's happy, comforting face seeing him to the front door before the
frantic race home - preferably before dark.
Never, however, had the boys seen a horror movie in a real theatre. It was
something Travis had often imagined, with a shudder. The lights would be down.
The screen would be huge. Other viewers - strangers, their faces hidden in the
dark - would be screaming. Travis wanted desperately to go, but didn't know for
sure if he could handle it.
"We'll get cigars," Nish said. "Light 'em up before we hit the box office and
they'll figure we're adults."
Sure, Travis thought, a couple of miniature adults wearing peewee hockey jackets
and smoking huge cigars. That'll fool them for sure.
Nish pushed, but Travis refused to detour past his grandparents' so they could
"borrow" a couple of his grandfather's big, stinking old Corona cigars. Travis
didn't steal. He didn't smoke. And he had no intention of looking like an idiot.
What next? he wondered. False beards? Canes? Hearing aids? The two of them in
walkers and wearing adult diapers?
In the end, they tagged along with Mario Terziano's older brother, who was taking
his date to the new movie and thought it a lark to pay for the boys' tickets and
sneak them in, as long as Nish and Travis didn't actually sit with them.
Passing for fourteen seemed to do something to Nish. He was even more outrageous
than usual. Instead of sitting quietly in a corner of the theatre where they
might go unnoticed, Nish insisted they sit dead center. While they waited for the
previews to begin, he made animal sounds, shouted out "KAW-WA-BUNGA!" and
"EEE-AWWW-KEEE!" and once even passed wind loudly before holding his nose with
one hand and raising the other high to point straight down at Travis.
Travis slid lower and lower in his seat.
The previews did nothing to settle Nish down. He whistled and stomped and clapped
his hands. He began cracking jokes about the action on screen, and when some of
the audience laughed, he got even louder.
Travis hoped desperately that Nish would settle down once the main feature began,
but he was out of luck. The Blood Children: Part VIII started, and as Travis sank
ever lower into his seat, Nish seemed to grow in his.
First head that got lopped off, Nish shouted out, "That was a no-brainer!"
First alien that popped out of a graveyard, Nish blew a bugle charge as if the
cavalry were coming.
The aliens moved on some sort of jet boots that enabled them to float just above
ground, and they carried vicious scythe-type weapons that twisted at the end like
an illegally curved hockey stick.
It was too much for Nish to resist. When the aliens moved in for their first
civilian massacre, he leaped to his feet, cupped his hands around his mouth, and
yelled, "Go Leafs Go!"
Once he hit on this hockey theme, Nish was lost. In the movie's very first
"romantic" scene - a long, passionate kiss between a gorgeous blonde actress and
a handsome soldier who turned out to be a vampire - he shouted, "Two minutes for
no neck protector!"
Instead of screaming in terror, the theatre was howling with laughter. Nish had
become part of the entertainment.
But not everyone was delighted by his contribution. At one point the theatre
manager, Mr. Dinsmore, had walked slowly up and down the aisles, flashing his
light along the seats. But when he passed by Nish, Mr. Dinsmore saw only what
every adult in a position of authority saw: Wayne Nishikawa sitting up straight,
innocent as a choirboy, hands politely folded in his lap.
The Blood Children: Part VIII was particularly gross. Severed heads flew about
the screen. Arms and legs were chopped off by a madman with a chainsaw. Aliens
blew up. Blood splattered against the camera, dripping down the screen.
"Where's Tie Domi when you need him?" Nish shouted.
When the movie slowed for some dull romantic development, Nish scooted out of his
seat and made for the refreshment counter. He came back with two tall drinks and
handed one to Travis, who took it and sighed deep into his seat. Perhaps the
drink would shut Nish up; at least he wouldn't be able to shout with his mouth
wrapped around a straw.
But Nish had no intention of drinking his huge pop. He pulled out the straw and
dropped it on the floor. He twisted off the plastic lid and dropped that, too.
Then, to Travis's astonishment, Nish began spilling out his drink. Travis
cringed, hearing the liquid splash onto the floor.
The theatre floor, made of polished concrete, slanted downward towards the
screen, so the liquid immediately ran away under the rows of seats in front.
Is he nuts? Travis wondered.
Nish began splashing in the liquid with his feet, picking up his sneakers and
slapping them down hard. It sounded like he was running through a deep puddle.
"Gross!" Nish called out.
A couple sitting up ahead turned and stared. Nish splashed again, faking that he
was disgusted. He turned around and angrily faced an innocent-looking young man
sitting alone about three seats directly behind.
"What's the matter with you?" Nish called. "Can't you use the bathroom?"
The young man blinked, not comprehending. Up ahead, the young couple began
scrambling. The pop had washed up as far as their feet now, and they made squishy
sounds as they left their seats and hurried for the safety of the aisle. The
young man reached for his girlfriend's hand and pulled her. She slipped and went
down, screaming. Her boyfriend raised his fist at the startled young man sitting
behind Nish.
"You pig!" he screamed. "Use the washroom!"
Travis sank even lower in his seat. He could feel the body beside him shaking:
Nish, in full giggle. The young man up front, after helping his girlfriend to her
feet, charged up the aisle.
Not knowing what was going on, but sure something bad was about to happen, the
man behind Nish scurried out of his seat as the boyfriend came at him. There was
the sound of clothes ripping.
"Fight!" Nish shouted. "FIGHT! FIGHT!"
The theatre erupted in whistles and shouts. The movie ground to a halt, the
lights came on, and Mr. Dinsmore and several attendants hurried down the aisle
closest to Travis and Nish. It took only a few moments to break up the fight. It
took slightly longer, with the lights full on, to find out that the whole thing
was a misunderstanding, that the disgusting liquid was nothing more than Sprite.
Nish's Sprite.
"Get out!" Mr. Dinsmore shouted at Travis and Nish. "Get out of my theatre - both
of you!"
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