Now Seating…
I
The tall-tale of the Road Kill Girl
“…so the girl wanted to go to the carnival behind Bates Cinema. Her mom was against it. Around midnight, while everyone in the house was asleep, the girl snuck out of the house (not realizing the carnival was already closed for the night). She walked across Voorhees Road. As she got closer to the curb, a speeding car came barreling down the street and ran her over. It was not a pleasant sight, as you can imagine, and it ended up being a closed casket service because the girl was just not recognizable by any means. The mother was distraught beyond reckoning. She ended up committing suicide several months after the poor girl’s funeral. The husband committed suicide weeks after his wife’s funeral. It was years before everything was forgotten, though, hauntings in this area still are present,” Norm Cain, general manager of EYS Buena Cinema, said. Norm was clean cut with a short haircut, baby shaven face, and dressed well with Dockers and a blue button shirt tucked-in. He was the type that would press his clothes on a daily basis.
He was sitting across from Michael Loomis, who was taking notes of everything Norm was saying. Michael was the polar opposite of Norm. Michael had a scruffy face with a beard he would upkeep every other week (if lucky). He would get a haircut maybe every six months or so. His attire ranged from concert shirts to novelty shirts like The Goonies Never Say Die or The Beatles Abbey Road. He currently had a Dream Theater 2010 tour T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans that he wore two days prior.
They both were in Norm’s office, which was more like a security room with video feeds of various cameras in the multiplex. But Norm liked to think of it as his office, nonetheless. Norm noticed a fly buzzing around. His eyes followed the fly’s movements. Michael also noticed the fly. He extended his arm, and with his hand, tried to hit the fly. He managed to hit the fly real hard, causing the
help me, HELP ME!
fly to crash into the ground. Michael then stomped the fly out of its tiny misery.
“Thanks,” Norm said.
“You’re welcome, I guess,” Michael replied, unsure why he was being thanked for killing a fly Norm could have easily swatted at himself. Michael then asked: “Ummm…so if the girl didn’t die at the theater, why is she haunting the theater?”
“You have to understand, EYS wasn’t around then. Bates was. Where EYS stands now, it was all tall grass.”
“Okay, then, why haunt this theater when this was nothing but Kermit’s crib?” Norm's mouth remained tight-lipped despite the quip, leading Michael to conclude that Norm lacked a sense of humor.
“Maybe she likes this property. Maybe she is getting even with the fact that she couldn’t go to the carnival. How the hell should I know? I was reluctant to talk to you about this. This theater certainly doesn’t need a reputation of being ‘haunted’,” Norm used his fingers as quotations as he said haunted.
“I appreciate the fact that you are talking to me. You are aware who I am, right?”
“Yes. You are that blogger that writes about ghost hauntings. I've heard of you. I haven’t read any of your stuff. Not my cup of tea. But yeah, I heard of you. You were even spoofed in that Cure Michigan parody website, right?”
Although it bothered Michael at first when Curemichigan.com, decided to do a parody of Michael’s blog, “They’re Here,” except, Curemichigan did a spin, “They’re Not Here.” Michael figured since his local fame of traveling through Michigan, investigating ghost hauntings, that he would get some ridicule as well as some praise. Instead of being bothered, Michael laughed it off.
“Yeah, they did a good number on me. But I still have my followers!” Michael said, with pride.
Norm looked straight at him. Michael got the first impression of Norm as the type who chooses his words carefully. After a few moments, Norm broke the silence.
“I suspect you want to camp here for a night?” Norm asked.
“If it isn’t too much trouble.”
“Arrangements can be made tomorrow night. After everyone, including the employees, leave for the night.”
“Have you actually seen the Road Kill Girl here?” Michael asked. Norm did not like Michael’s sarcasm. But Norm responded back without feeling offended.
“I’ve seen some strange occurrences, simply because I’m here more often than the rest of the staff. I haven’t heard anyone else experiencing…”
“What have you actually seen?” Michael asked, interrupting Norm. Norm started fidgeting with an EYS ink-pen nearby on his desk by clicking it.
“Uhhhh…just different things, like projectors in vacant theaters turning on, without anyone turning them on. Flickering house lights. Faint voices in an empty theater. I think the weirdest occurrence is one time in theater 4, the projector turned on with clear light, and I’d see a shadowy image of a little girl on the celluloid screen. I ran upstairs to the booth, and it all seemed normal, like nothing happened. The projector was off, and there was no sign of anyone playing with it,” Norm answered.
“Hmmm…and you say no else has ever reported occurrences. Mind if I ask…”
“I don’t want to create a disturbance among my staff here. I don’t mind you staying here over night. I will even give you access to all the rooms, including the booth. You can do your investigation, and even write your blog. But please don’t speak with any of my people. No one knows this place is haunted. And I don’t want to make it public. Sure, once you write your blog, there will be some attention here. But not before, do you understand?”
“Sure. Well then. I shall see you tomorrow. I might actually catch a show before hand.”
“See you tomorrow then, Mr. Loomis,” Norm said, extending his hand for a proper handshake.
“Call me Michael. I am a writer. Not a professor!” Michael said with a little bit of a sarcastic tone. He took Norm’s hand, and shook it firmly.
“Okay then, Michael. Have a good day”
Norm escorted Michael out of the office and into the theater lobby. Michael wanted to explore the theater a bit, so he walked to his right toward the first ten theaters of the multiplex. The purple/orange carpet he was walking on reminded him of a third-rate casino. He also noted how half-ass the theater looked from the inside. The painting on the walls looked rushed.
He admired the outside of the theater, with that feel of a classy theater from the 40s/50s. He even smirked at the marquee in front. Everything today is digital. He missed the old days of cinemas back when. But who was he to comment about it? He was a ghost haunter/writer; he was not a movie theater critic.
“Everything all right, sir?” a young female usher asked. He was snooping in one of the theaters, and was caught.
“I am fine. Thanks. Just looking around. Say,” Michael could not resist asking.
“…have you ever experienced anything…I don’t know…strange…here?”
The young female, maybe 16 at the most, giggled, and said: “Except the pay here, no!”
“Thanks anyway.” Michael said. He walked passed the young girl, and toward the lobby. A projector in the middle of the lobby was projecting movie trailers on the wall on top of the concession stand. He thought this was a great addition to the theater, adding nostalgia.
But he had to stop thinking critical about the actual theater. He remembered he had that same problem when he stayed at the Grand Hotel, located at the Mackinac Island, to investigate a well known haunting. Instead of the alleged haunting he never experienced, he was over thinking about the layout of the hotel.
He walked out of the theater, and stood outside for a moment. He used to live in this area many moons ago.
How it has all changed over the years.
He remembered the Bates Cinema at the edge of Voorhees and Krueger Road. Now, it was just an empty plot. He looked to his right. The Target store in the plaza w
as still there. All the other stores, including F & M (which was a type of Walgreens) is non-existent. He knew this would be a memory trip for him, which was why he took the anonymous email that was sent to him about this theater, serious enough.
In most cases, he rejected anonymous sources. He preferred hearing from the actual management of an establishment, or the owner, to check out the so-called, ‘haunting.’ Judging by Norm’s reaction when Michael approached Norm, Norm certainly was not the one who sent Michael the email. Michael was always skeptical about these hauntings. He really has not come across a real haunting. He even had temptations from time to time of pulling his blog. He felt he was just simply a fiction writer, and should actually write books instead blogs.
Michael walked away from the theater, and toward where Bates used to be. He had fond memories as a kid, going to that run down piece of shit theater. He then turned around and looked over to EYS. He had a feeling this could be the one. This could be the be-all, end-all. The fact that Norm was reluctant to talk to Michael indicated that something was going on with this theater. He had some doubts. The story seemed a bit farfetched. He remembered a similar story on Schoenherr Road; a young girl that got ran over by a speeding vehicle, across the school’s soccer field. There are accounts on the Internet, proclaiming that at midnight during a full moon, you can actually see this girl walk across the road, waiting for that car that hit her. Michael went ahead and camped right there near the soccer field. No cigar after midnight. But that is not what he wrote, of course. He wrote a scary tall tale of him, seeing a faint road kill girl walk from the field to the road, and then reenact the whole being run over scene.
It was strange that there is a similar story here. But how often do kids get run over? That is certainly not a statistic AAA has investigated recently, but Michael assumed the number was pretty high.
Michael still could not ignore how Norm acted. First reluctant, then with open arms. But this was not the first time he had a manager-type like Norm. He remembered a few years ago, investigating reports of hauntings surrounding the SS Edmund Fitzgerald Memorial in Belle Isle. At first, no one wanted to talk about it. Finally, a few of the locals came up to him as he was walking around the area, and confessed that the hauntings were true. He camped right in front of the anchor that night. And would you believe it? Nothing happened. But he wrote a cute little piece about the crewmen that had a conversation that night with Michael, discussing about the infamous ship sinking and how they loathe that song about it. Michael always had a unique craft of twisting fiction with reality, just to please the reader’s thirst! He was a great bartender for words.
Michael walked back to his KIA Sportage that was parked in the EYS parking lot. The KIA was only a few years old and had decent mileage. It was olive color and had a Wastin’ Away license plate he bought when he took a trip to Key West few years back, attached to the front. Michael got in and drove away. He went back to the hotel he was staying at (Buena Inn, just down the road from the theater), and relaxed. He opened his backpack, got out his Dell laptop, turned it on, and checked his email. The usual emails from readers, suggesting various places for him to check out. He skimmed through it, and then deleted every single email. He then checked his blog; ‘They’re Here.’
The last blog he wrote: the area where Edgewater Amusement Park used to be on 7 mile and Berg, did not get that many hits like his previous blogs. His novelty was starting to wear off on readers. He hoped this theater would ignite the fans out there again. In fact, he hoped he picked an actual winner this time. What he did not realized then, but would soon enough, was how much joy he would have at EYS…
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