B-Movie Reels Read Online Free Page A
Author: Alan Spencer
brim of his hat. “Ned said he detested the house. It broke up his marriage, he said. I’m sure you know about it. The cops kept interrogating them, and the reporters were worse, and poor Angie couldn’t take it anymore. Anyway, this house can’t be sold. Never seen a house go to shit so fast. This used to be worth close to two-hundred and thirty thousand. Now—”
“Dad!” Mary-Sue scolded, talking over him. “You’re being rude.”
Andy flagged both of their attentions. “The house isn’t mine as of yet. Ned said I could live in it for two weeks and try it on for size first.”
“Nah.” The man spat out a stream of brown juice. The wad between his yellowed teeth was the shape of a thumb pressing against the inside of his cheek. “Ned claimed you were the new owner indefinitely.”
“Well, I’m not. I haven’t signed papers or paid any bills. Who knows where I’ll be months from now?”
“For now, you’re in Anderson Mills,” the man said. “I’m Jimmy Jennings, and you’ve met my daughter. My wife’s not here. Divorced my old ass and moved to Maryland with some tow-truck driver. Mary-Sue wasn’t even eight at the time.”
Mary-Sue jabbed him in the gut with her elbow. “He doesn’t want to know that.” She apologized to Andy under her breath. “He’s not always like this.”
Andy smiled at her. “Hey, thanks for the basket. You guys know this town very well. How do you get around? I’m sure you guys know what’s fun around here. I know I could use some.”
Her eyes brightened at the opportunity. “I’ll show you around Anderson Mills, if you have time?”
Jimmy spat, the circle of tobacco juice striking a cobble in the path with a pat sound. “You want dinner tonight? We don’t eat until eight o’clock. Any Ryerson is welcome in my home. I knew your poor Uncle James, and he got a bad rap. He’s a good man. None of the shit they say about him is true.”
“Eight o’clock, huh?” Andy asked. “Sure, which way down the street do you live?”
“Make a left out onto the road outside your house, and you’ll find our red farmhouse pretty easily,” she explained. “It’ll be nice to have a guest. You can see our farm from your back yard.”
She winked at him again, and he felt himself blush. Was she flirting with him? Maybe she has a thing for college boys , he thought. I don’t mind. Sandy broke up with me two weeks ago.
Sandy Brown was a film student like him, and they dated four years during their stint at Iowa State. When she received an offer to film a Sonic fast food commercial in Milwaukee, Sandy broke off their relationship. The break-up ruined his graduation day. His parents coerced him to walk the stage despite his gloomy mood. Then Ned called him up shortly afterward to come down and check out the house. It was actually a good idea. He could complete Professor Maxwell’s job and move on to the next gig, whenever and whatever that would be.
“Thanks for the invite,” Andy said. “I’ll see you guys at eight sharp. Sorry, I don’t have any groceries or I’d bring something.”
“Just yourself is fine,” Jimmy said, his eyes coasting up and down the closed shutters and the perimeter of the house. “I guess Mary-Sue will show you around after we eat. Town’s pretty simple. Small too.”
They waved goodbye and drove off in their red Toyota truck, a model from the eighties, Andy guessed, the bed corroded with rust and stocked with hay bales.
With the neighbors gone, Andy marched back into the house and decided it was time to work.
3
He plugged in the single-reel sixteen millimeter film projector and stood it up on a TV tray beside the lone reclining chair. The audio system was two speakers and a sub-woofer; nothing that could facilitate a movie theater, but instead a class room, or in his case, a living room. The Orion projector was on loan from Iowa State’s film tech laboratory. The rental fee was waved due to Professor Edwin
“Dad!” Mary-Sue scolded, talking over him. “You’re being rude.”
Andy flagged both of their attentions. “The house isn’t mine as of yet. Ned said I could live in it for two weeks and try it on for size first.”
“Nah.” The man spat out a stream of brown juice. The wad between his yellowed teeth was the shape of a thumb pressing against the inside of his cheek. “Ned claimed you were the new owner indefinitely.”
“Well, I’m not. I haven’t signed papers or paid any bills. Who knows where I’ll be months from now?”
“For now, you’re in Anderson Mills,” the man said. “I’m Jimmy Jennings, and you’ve met my daughter. My wife’s not here. Divorced my old ass and moved to Maryland with some tow-truck driver. Mary-Sue wasn’t even eight at the time.”
Mary-Sue jabbed him in the gut with her elbow. “He doesn’t want to know that.” She apologized to Andy under her breath. “He’s not always like this.”
Andy smiled at her. “Hey, thanks for the basket. You guys know this town very well. How do you get around? I’m sure you guys know what’s fun around here. I know I could use some.”
Her eyes brightened at the opportunity. “I’ll show you around Anderson Mills, if you have time?”
Jimmy spat, the circle of tobacco juice striking a cobble in the path with a pat sound. “You want dinner tonight? We don’t eat until eight o’clock. Any Ryerson is welcome in my home. I knew your poor Uncle James, and he got a bad rap. He’s a good man. None of the shit they say about him is true.”
“Eight o’clock, huh?” Andy asked. “Sure, which way down the street do you live?”
“Make a left out onto the road outside your house, and you’ll find our red farmhouse pretty easily,” she explained. “It’ll be nice to have a guest. You can see our farm from your back yard.”
She winked at him again, and he felt himself blush. Was she flirting with him? Maybe she has a thing for college boys , he thought. I don’t mind. Sandy broke up with me two weeks ago.
Sandy Brown was a film student like him, and they dated four years during their stint at Iowa State. When she received an offer to film a Sonic fast food commercial in Milwaukee, Sandy broke off their relationship. The break-up ruined his graduation day. His parents coerced him to walk the stage despite his gloomy mood. Then Ned called him up shortly afterward to come down and check out the house. It was actually a good idea. He could complete Professor Maxwell’s job and move on to the next gig, whenever and whatever that would be.
“Thanks for the invite,” Andy said. “I’ll see you guys at eight sharp. Sorry, I don’t have any groceries or I’d bring something.”
“Just yourself is fine,” Jimmy said, his eyes coasting up and down the closed shutters and the perimeter of the house. “I guess Mary-Sue will show you around after we eat. Town’s pretty simple. Small too.”
They waved goodbye and drove off in their red Toyota truck, a model from the eighties, Andy guessed, the bed corroded with rust and stocked with hay bales.
With the neighbors gone, Andy marched back into the house and decided it was time to work.
3
He plugged in the single-reel sixteen millimeter film projector and stood it up on a TV tray beside the lone reclining chair. The audio system was two speakers and a sub-woofer; nothing that could facilitate a movie theater, but instead a class room, or in his case, a living room. The Orion projector was on loan from Iowa State’s film tech laboratory. The rental fee was waved due to Professor Edwin