Boo (23 page)

Ainsley’s bright eyes dimmed a little. “Um. It sounds kind of familiar. Is it a war movie?”

“No,” he admitted. He was second and third and fourth guessing himself, though something inside told him to stay on course. It was going to be painful, but it had to be done.

“Oh. Well, it sounds a little … bloody.”

“Not so much. A little, perhaps.”

“Wolfe, what’s going on?”

He steered her toward the ticket booth. Only a few people mingled around. “It’s the first movie they’ve ever made out of one of my books. I haven’t seen it yet. I thought …” He glanced at her startled eyes. “I just want you to see what it is I do. You have an impression of me. I understand that. But aside from the horror and the ghosts and monsters, I love to tell a good story. My imagination is so much a part of who I am. And I want you to know every part of me. Even the darker sides.”

Wolfe tried to read her, but it was hard. Her lips had frozen in a smile, and her eyes seemed to dance with indecision. He tried again.

“I understand this wouldn’t be your first pick for a movie. But would you share it with me? This is a special time for me, and I didn’t want to go alone.”

Her eyes finally seemed to focus on him, and though there wasn’t a trace of delight in them, they seemed to reflect trust. She nodded, and this time a genuine smile crossed her lips. “Okay. Sure. Why not?” She laughed a little. “As long as you’re buying.”

Wolfe grinned and stepped up to the ticket booth. “You’d think they’d send me a free pass or something.” He paid for the tickets.

“Didn’t you get to go to the premiere?”

“Oh, yeah, I was invited. But I’ve never much liked the Hollywood scene. Too many masks. You never really know who you’re talking to, and why they’re talking to you.”

“So the mysterious writer becomes even more mysterious by not attending the premiere of his own movie.”

Wolfe shrugged as he opened the theater door for her. “I guess that would be one spin.”

They paused inside to adjust to the darkened room. Wolfe hoped he hadn’t crossed the line with Ainsley, but she had to know who he was to understand who he had become.

It seemed that the closer she hovered next to him, the more relaxed she became. He tried to stand close to her. Looking up at him, she said, “Well, I can’t guarantee I’m going to like the movie, but I’d be more than happy to try some popcorn and candy.”

This was the weirdest thing that had ever happened to her. Here she was with the man she had once despised, on a date that up to this point had been magical, sitting in a dark theater waiting for his movie
Bloody Thursday to
start. What was he trying to prove? Why did she need to see this to understand him? His books were known for being dark and suspenseful. Is that who he was? Had she gotten the wrong impression of him? Her muscles ached at the idea of all this, and she found even light chitchat now painfully strained.

“Look,” he finally said, after they’d made their third attempt at talking about the weather, “I know this is awkward.”

“You’re not kidding.”

“And I’d hate to ruin our day. I’m not trying to ruin it. I’m just trying to show you every side of me. So you won’t have any surprises.”

Ainsley stared at the movie screen in front of her. She had to admit, the guy had a lot of guts. He had to know how she felt about him, about what he wrote. Why would he put himself in such a vulnerable position now? She was about to try to reassure both him and herself with a polite nod when the lights went down and the music began.
Dear Lord
 … she prayed. But there were no other words to fill in the rest of the prayer.

An hour and a half into the movie, Ainsley’s hand reached the bottom of the popcorn sack. She tossed it aside and stared at the screen. Elaina,
the main character, was about to walk into a deadly trap. Where was Thomas? Where
was
he? Didn’t he know how much danger she was in?

Ainsley sat back, trying to focus both on the movie and the irrational thoughts that were playing through her mind. She didn’t realize there would be a love story in this … and such an intense one. She was captivated by Elaina, her passion, her vulnerability, her bravery. And Thomas was so complex, a hero in his own right, yet mysterious. His love for Elaina had spanned more than a decade, but until now she was unaware. If they could just get rid of that horrific ghost that haunted the mansion they both loved so much, their love could find each other! In the same thought, Ainsley marveled at how Wolfe’s mind had come up with all these twists and turns. Her head throbbed as she was tossed between the thrills of the movie and the realities of her own thoughts.

“Don’t open the door!” Ainsley whispered. “Don’t do it!”

She could feel the tension of everyone in the theater as the door creaked open and Elaina found herself stepping into unknown places. “No! No! Don’t you know what’s there?” Ainsley’s heart pounded with anticipation.

A man with a knife leapt from behind the shadows. Ainsley screamed, along with the rest of the audience. But Elaina was quick on her feet and grabbed a letter opener on the desk next to the door. In a violent struggle, Elaina managed to stab the man in the shoulder. He stumbled backward, wincing in pain, blood dripping down his arm. He hollered at the top of his lungs, and Ainsley screamed again, this time grabbing Wolfe’s arm. But something felt weird. His muscles were completely relaxed. Ainsley could barely take her eye off the screen to glance over at Wolfe, but when she did, she gasped.

Wolfe was unconscious.

“Please, I’m fine,” Wolfe said as two hefty men in theater uniforms helped him to a nearby bench in the theater hallway.

“I’ll get you some water,” one man said. The other had stepped away
to find the manager. Wolfe had regained consciousness as soon as Ainsley returned with the men to help him, and at once he let them usher him out of the dark theater to try not to draw too much attention to himself. The movie, apparently, was much more interesting than Wolfe’s plight, because not too many people took notice.

Wolfe leaned his head against the wall and stared at the ceiling. Ainsley sat next to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” he said with a short smile. “I promise.”

“You scared me to death!”

“That was what
the movie
was supposed to do.”

Ainsley couldn’t help but smile. “Well, it was doing a fine job of it too.”

The man returned with a cup of water and lingered for a moment until Wolfe indicated with a nod that he would be okay. The man stepped aside and tended to the trash.

“What happened?” Ainsley asked.

Wolfe grinned, then laughed out loud and could barely look at her. He shook his head, managed to glance at her for a second, and then said, “I pass out at the sight of blood.”

“You
do?
”

He nodded. “It was really bad when I was young, and then I guess in the last few years I haven’t seen much blood, and I don’t really go to the movies that much. I thought I’d outgrown it. I guess not!”

Ainsley started laughing so hard the manager and the man with him turned to see if everything was okay. She gave them a quick wave of assurance but couldn’t stop laughing. Wolfe joined in, and for a moment all they could do was laugh, look at each other, and laugh even more.

Finally Ainsley managed to say between breaths, “You’re a horror novelist and you pass out at the sight of blood!”

He nodded and laughed again, finally able to speak himself. “I can write about it all day long, but if I see it, I drop. I even use an electric shaver, when I use one at all.”

They laughed a few moments longer until Ainsley’s sides hurt, and then they finally managed to gain their composure.

“That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Wolfe smiled and stared into his water cup. “Yeah, I guess it is pretty funny, isn’t it?” Silence replaced the laughter for a moment. Then Wolfe said, “Ainsley, I know these movies and books aren’t good. I’m not trying to say they are. I just wanted you to see. I’ll never write anything like it again. I see how dark it is. I see what’s wrong with it. But I’m not ashamed of it either. It’s as much a part of my life as—well, as this moment is. That’s all.”

The doors to the movie theater swung open and the crowd dispersed, each one chatting as they went by. Suddenly Ainsley felt disappointed that she didn’t know how the movie ended. She looked at Wolfe.

“What happens?”

“What happens?”

“At the end of the movie? Does Thomas save Elaina?”

He smiled. “What do you think?”

“I hope so.” She looked at him. “Do horror stories have good endings?”

“Sometimes.”

“So what happens?”

“The man at the graveyard—”

“Finds the box!”

“And puts it in the …”

“House?”

“No. The car. Because, remember—”

“Thomas can’t drive a stick shift!”

“But Elaina can.”

“And she finds the—?”

“Yes, and unlocks the secret to give to the—”

“So Thomas can save her!” Ainsley stared at the ceiling in amusement. “What a great ending!”

“Thank you.”

She leaned against the wall next to him. “I have to say, I’m pretty astonished.”

“Oh?”

“The characters—they were interesting. I was fascinated by them both.”

“What fascinated you?”

“Elaina … so much has been expected of her all her life, yet underneath all those layers of expectations is a vulnerable woman. She’s so together, but she doesn’t have all the answers, and she needs a hero.”

Wolfe was silent as he studied her. Ainsley continued. “And Thomas. An unlikely hero, I have to say. He’s mysterious, he’s got a past. But it seems in the end, Thomas has more of the answers, more stability, than she does.” She shrugged. “I just thought horror novels were about seeing people’s insides ripped out.”

“Some are.”

“So nobody’s insides get ripped out at the end of the movie?”

Wolfe laughed. “Well, unfortunately the butler gets it.”

“Oh. Well, he wasn’t that fascinating of a character anyway.” Ainsley watched as Wolfe sipped his water. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“There was one thing that didn’t make sense to me in the movie.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s about Thomas. And his love for Elaina. How could anyone be in love with someone for fourteen years and never say anything?”

Wolfe crunched his cup in his hand and tossed it in the wastebasket beside him. Then he looked at her and with a meager smile said, “Well, I guess that’s why they call it fiction.”

On the way back to her house, Ainsley learned Wolfe wore his hair long because his ears were crooked, and that for the first six months of Goose and Bunny’s life he called them Dog and Girl because he couldn’t come up with anything more creative. He finally got better names for them by watching Saturday morning cartoons.

Ainsley told Wolfe more about the death of her mother, the relationship
she had with her father. She talked about how she’d gone to church her whole life and what it meant for her to be a Christian. Wolfe listened intently, and Ainsley wasn’t sure she’d ever met anyone who seemed more interested in what she had to say. It thrilled her.