Valley Stream, November 1985

The theatre lobby was dark as we left our movie early Sunday morning. Now this wasn't too unusual as I had been at plenty of movie theatres at closing time. But it was a bit too quiet. A police officer walked up to us.

"Theatre's closed, kid," the officer told us with a slight affect. "Go home and be safe."

I guess he didn't mind that we snuck into another movie without paying after the first one ended. That was the great thing about the Sunrise Multiplex, so many screens and so little security. Same thing with the Sunrise Mall in Massapequa. But anyway, why were they so concerned about our safety?

We walked out to the parking lot to his car. Though I was older than him, I didn't drive (I was always afraid of crashing) so he took his car. I felt more comfortable as the passenger anyway. The night was cold and the only glow came from the sirens of the Ford police cars situated in the parking lot.

"What do you think happened?" I was asked as the car was being started.

"How should I know, Daren?" I replied. "We were watching Herbert West conquer brain death when it happened."

"I was only wondering, Kristina." Daren started the car. His Toyota hatchback was small but it had a good heating system. 30 seconds flat and I would go from shivering to burning up. I shouldn't have worn my sweatshirt with my jean jacket.

"If my parents found out and someone died," I began as he drove. "I don't think they'll ever let me out of the house again."

"Nonsense," he told me. "You've got school and your job at the art supply place. They'll have to let you out."

"You know," I continued. "I think they're worried about how things will be after I leave."

"How so?" he asked.

"Well, I'm the youngest and everyone else has left. Doreen's in Chicago and Jack and Sam are in Westbury. Mom and Dad probably thought I was always going to be their little girl. I bet they're scared that all five foot and two and a half inches of me will be going to NYU alone."

"You'll be fine. You're getting a full ride scholarship, aren't you?"

"That's what I recall. The University people told me it was waiting for me after that competition. They couldn't believe I only had the second best entry in the state."

"Maybe they were right."

"Please, there's a lot better than me. I may have been practicing since second grade but that doesn't mean I'm one of the best teenage artists in the state. Or in Roslyn High for that matter."

"You're in the best in Roslyn. I've seen the other artists on display in the cafeteria and they don't compare."

"Maybe I'm too critical of myself. Six years of ballet can do that."

"I just think your teacher was convinced puberty wasn't a thing."

"Nah, I'm sure she does. Some girls are flat as a board, but not me. Or my mother. Or my sister. Many generations of ballet and many generations of breasts."

Daren got quiet for a second. "You want to know what I think happened in there."

"What?" I asked.

"Let's say there was a line at the snack bar and some fat bastard wanted a refill on jumbo size popcorn or bladder busting diet soda. And let's assume he cut in line and proceeded to knock three people down."

"That's impossible," I interrupted. "No one could possibly be that wide."

"You would think, but no." Daren kept on. "I was looking at the Guinness Book of World Records and read about this guy from Seattle who weighed 1,200 pounds. It's possible. Anyway, one of the three people gets a gash from the back of their head. He just wanted to see Back to the Future for the twelfth time, not get knocked down by someone's large girth. The other two people meanwhile are understandably pissed. They notice the fat guy getting his refill and having his popcorn tub drenched in that fake butter that looks like motor oil. Pretty soon, they proceed to punch his gut but he's not going down. Not long after, the entire line joins the punchers. It's like that game on "The Price is Right" except with a 500 pound man instead of a wall of money. Finally, twelve, fourteen people are able to lift the fat one and throw him through the window. The lobby people cheer and the fighters get free popcorn."

"But if he was so big," I replied. "Then how could he possibly fit in the seats? Couldn't he have just gone to the drive-in in Westbury and adjusted his car accordingly. You can make your own popcorn and bring food."

"Maybe he just likes surround sound," Daren answered. "You have any ideas?"

I thought for a moment as I noticed we were about to go on the Cross Island Parkway. Due to the lateness, traffic was light so it would be quicker than usual. Daren was lighting himself a cigarette.

"You want one?" he asked.

"I quit," I answered. "You know how sick I got the first two times."

"Right," Daren remembered as he lightly smacked himself on his forehead.

I then thought up a theory. "You remember that party a while back at the Bartalotti Sisters' place?"

"Yeah, Adriana and Claudia. Those girls who are always trying to look like Madonna's character in Desperately Seeking Susan."

"Remember how many windows got broken because a bunch of the lightweights in ninth grade couldn't hold their liquor and kept running into the walls and sliding windows? Let's say those same girls…or maybe even some sorority girls at one of the colleges or even people in our grade got ridiculously piss drunk and began to run into walls and doors and windows and even people as if they were pinballs or something. Maybe if they were metal then they could have gone "ping-ping-ping" as they hit other patrons or the concession stand. So anyway, maybe they ended up breaking the window and that's why things were so weird."

"That's kind of farfetched," Daren told me as puffed on his cigarette. "Why would a bunch of drunk kids have such speed? Shouldn't they be kind of lumbering from the alcohol?"

"I'm only speculating," I answered. "We didn't see it go down so no answer from us is a definitive one."

We remained quiet as we got onto Grand Central Parkway to enter Northern State Parkway. A bootleg Clan of Xymox tape was playing in Daren's tape player. It's probably gone for two weeks straight because I now know all the lyrics to "A Day". I sure hope that doesn't make me a sellout to the people who know me for watching Dance Fever religiously. I ejected the tape and the radio came on to a Kate Bush song. Not the great one named after the book they always seem to assign in 10th grade English, her new one.

"Yeah," Daren spoke up as he put his cigarette out. "I guess I have been listening to that tape too much. Besides, radio seems be at its best at 1:30 in the morning."

We continued to listen to the radio playlist of New Wave and UK-based songs as we approached Roslyn. A few minutes later, I knew I was home as I saw a light on near the front door.

"I'd kiss you," Daren told me as he stopped. "But I just smoked and you wouldn't appreciate it."

"Thanks," I told him, somewhat confused. "See you Monday."

I got out of the car and got my house key from my jacket pocket. I came in and saw Mom watching an old Spencer Tracy movie on the TV. She noticed me coming in.

"How was the movie, Krissy-doll?" she asked.

"Mom, don't call me Krissy-doll," I answered.

"Okay, Kristina. What did you see again?"

"We saw A Nightmare on Elm Street 2 and after, we decided to see Re-Animator. Re-Animator was better but you'd hate them both."

"Scary movies, huh?"

"Yeah." I walked over to Mom and got a better look at the TV. "Which Spencer Tracy movie is this?"

"The Last Hurrah. He's a politician up for re-election but faces his biggest challenger. I saw it in the theatre with your father years ago. Speaking of your father, I should be joining him upstairs. Goodnight, Kristina."

Mom turned off the TV, I kissed her goodnight, and we parted ways after we went upstairs. I changed into my pajamas, brushed my teeth, and crashed into my bed.

The next morning, I woke up and took a shower. After putting on some clothes, I went downstairs for breakfast. As I was pouring myself a glass of orange juice to take my anti-anxiety medication with, Mom asked me something about last night.

"Which theatre did you go to last night?" she asked.

"Oh shit," I thought to myself. I came down for pancakes and to watch the episode of Tales from the Darkside I taped and Mom's grilling me.

"I…don't remember," I answered as I poured syrup onto my chocolate chip pancakes.

"Because last night, there was a riot at the Sunrise Multiplex in Valley Stream. They were all going to see that movie, what was it, Krush Groove. Have you seen that one yet?"

"I saw it with Daren last week after work."

"At the mall in Massapequa?"

"Yeah."

"Apparently, someone got shot. Kristina, be safe next time you and Daren go to the movies together. And you might want to stay away from that theatre. Now eat your pancakes. They're getting cold."

Dad didn't enter the conversation as he was reading the sports page of Newsday on the Giants game. Now, I love my dad but it's probably for the best he didn't enter. He probably would have suggested arming myself or something. Who knows?

At school on Monday, a few people were talking about the incident. The story had now evolved into three deaths and a food fight. How the hell does this stuff evolve? Long Island, man. I can't wait to leave. Right before I left to go to work, I saw Daren and he had told a few people we were there. I told them I knew nothing, which was the truth.

Later at the art store, I was manning the register when a longtime customer who was heavily into horror movie designs began chatting about the Nightmare on Elm Street movies.

"You see the new one?" he asked.

"Yeah," I answered. "You?"

"Not yet."

"You hear about the theatre in Valley Stream showing it?"

"I was there."

"Was it true somehow got decapitated with a machete? I would have loved to been there was but I was making a short movie."

"I didn't see anything. Sorry."

"Bummer. How much for the paints?"

"$15.29."

He set a $20 down, I gave him change, and he left. I poured myself some coffee from the back and wondered where the hell people come up with these stories. You hear one thing and something else morphs out of it. Sure, you can create your own bizarre story but when it gets out, all bets are off.

Eventually, the story died down and everyone moved on. I went to the theatre on a few more dates before I left in August 1986 for Manhattan and college. I come back to Roslyn every year but I last saw Daren in January 1987. He was finishing his senior year and we spent a Saturday night together, seeing a movie (Sid and Nancy) and talking until dawn about our lives and how things would be in the next few years. He was planning on going to engineering school and working with the rock bands and he asked me how NYU was. That's the last time I saw Daren. He went missing in June 1987 while in Oregon and never returned. He was declared dead in June 1994. By then, I was still in Manhattan with my seven-year old daughter Talia. No funeral was held due to the hope he was still alive but I doubt it. It's been too long and he wasn't the type to just disappear and live incognito.

The Sunrise Multiplex Cinemas closed on January 19th, 2015. By that time, it had been just over 29 years since that night in November. I was not there on the last night as I would have been in Manhattan, preparing for the new semester for my job. The last time I was there was Christmas Eve 1996, when my daughter, my brother, and I saw a double feature of 101 Dalmatians and Mars Attacks!. Talia and I were visiting for the school holidays as Hanukkah came too early for the holiday break and my brother Sam wanted to get away for a few hours while his wife took care of their three-month old. I think we went there for the sound system but my memory hasn't been as good since I was nineteen. I remember there were a lot of kids for the first movie and almost no one for the second. I guess no one was really fazed by what happened in Valley Stream on November 3rd, 1985, no matter how the story went.