The Haydn Theatre sat in the middle of downtown at the halfway point of Main Street. It was an old-fashioned, two-screen moviehouse constructed back in the thirties. It was built by Theodore Haydn and named in honor of his ancestor, Nikolai Haydn, the founder of Vienna. The business stayed “in the family,” and it was now run by his grandson, Stuart Haydn.
The crowds had thickened since Calvin left downtown earlier, so he had to park nearly two blocks away from the theatre. This left him, he felt, dangerously close to where he last saw “her,” but he did a quick survey of the scene as he exited his car and saw she was nowhere around. He breathed a sigh of relief. With that, he grabbed the bag, closed the car door, and hurried down the sidewalk. The theatre’s big sign and flashing lights proclaimed this week’s attractions: The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey and, as Calvin had been told, Superman: The Movie. The words “Special Anniversary Shows” were written under the latter title. Stuart Haydn was a huge fan of the character and had managed to acquire a print of the film, which he showed every year at Christmas since it was originally released in December 1978. The smell of over-buttered popcorn wafted through the air.
Calvin felt a healthy dose of “Christmas spirit” welling up inside him despite his Grinch-like attitude earlier that evening. Perhaps my heart grew a size or two. He laughed.
Calvin ran up to the movie posters on display and checked the times. The first showing for Superman was at six-thirty. He glanced at his watch: 7:30. The next showing was not until 9:15 p.m.
I can’t just barge in. I’ll give the cape to a worker and he can give it to them. Hopefully, they know her. He snickered. This is Vienna. Everybody knows everybody!
Calvin politely waited for a few people to buy their tickets, and then he walked up to the ticket office, where he was greeted by a brunette high school girl. “Would you like a student discount?” she asked.
People always think I look young, thought Calvin.
“No, I’m here because a couple who came to see ‘Superman’lost this item,” he said, holding up the bag.
The ticket-taker’s eyes widened. “That’s the cape the girl who had a fight with her boyfriend was carrying.”
Calvin’s jaw dropped. “They had a fight?”
“Yes. About two hours ago. She came and bought tickets right before he arrived. But he came with another girl and then dumped the first girl right there in front of everybody. I think her name was Jen because that’s what it said on her credit card. Anyway, she started crying and ran off down an alley a few blocks down the street. Then her ex-boyfriend bought tickets for himself and his new girl for The Hobbit.” Her face contorted into a scowl. “I almost didn’t sell him tickets, the cad. If I wasn’t working, I’d’ve slugged him on behalf of girls everywhere.”
Anger scrunched Calvin’s face. “I would’ve done it, too. That punk! Did he say why he did it?”
“Just said he found someone better and ‘didn’t love’ Jen anymore.”
“Some Superman he turned out to be,” Calvin whispered to himself.
“What was that?” asked the ticket girl.
Calvin glanced up and said, “Nothing. Sorry to bother you.”
“No problem.”
Calvin began his long walk back to his car.
What should I do now? I doubt she’ll want this back after that jerk did this to her. But I can’t keep it in good conscience. I guess I’ll take it back to the Valhalla’s Vault tomorrow and mail her a check anonymously. She deserves to have her money back, at least. Poor girl.
He reflexively glanced at his watch again when he reached his car: 7:45.
Most of the downtown shops are closed. I may as well head back home. He sighed deeply. He was not looking forward to another lonely Friday night, especially during the holidays. The images of “her” happily running around town stabbed his brain. Calvin shook his head to shove them out. “I hate Christmas,” he said, pulling the car door open and tossing the bag onto the passenger seat. He got in, slammed the door, and drove off.
Did you find this information helpful? If you did, consider donating.