The Death of 1977 (Book 3)

Chapter 29

The Porter Theater proudly presents:

Halloween Horror Hijinks

Our classic Horrorfest Matinee this evening: Dracula, The Mummy, The Creature from the Black Lagoon. And our special engagement, Fritz The Cat.

Jeremiah, along with a host of perhaps several others sporadically spread throughout the theater, sat quietly and watched as the cartoon cat and his girlfriend caroused and frolicked before engaging in an orgy of cartoon sex. Jeremiah was seated in the second to the last row.

Jeremiah, with his right hand inside his pants, massaged his organ from side to side, all the while keeping a watchful eye on anyone who may have been passing by in his vicinity. The man wasn't all too troubled by the fact that he was inside a movie theater pleasuring himself; all that mattered to him was the climax. As far as Jeremiah was concerned he was the only person there. His attention was rattled, but not to where he felt the need to tear himself away from the screen ahead. He jerked and pulled faster until the orgasm struck his entire body, causing him to jolt slightly in his seat and shut his eyes.

Once Jeremiah was through with the elation, he opened his eyes and pulled his hand out of his pants before composing himself. He then looked at the other men inside the theater to find them all either steadily watching the film or slumped over asleep.

Jeremiah nervously took off his glasses and wiped the lenses before placing them back onto his face. He then happened to glance behind him at the empty row which even in the darkness he could see was still unoccupied.

The moment his curiosity was sated he turned back around to spot a man coming back into the theater from the lobby with a box of popcorn in hand. The man kept on walking until he found his seat clear

down at the very front row. Behind Jeremiah, however, someone so stealthy materialized in the very last seat in the row. It was none other than Isaac Mercer, dressed in an all-black suit and tie. The man's face was downcast in the darkness as he stared straight over at an unassuming Jeremiah, and only Jeremiah.

Jeremiah kept watching the screen with a blank lethargy, as if his eternal time was being wasted. On the back of his neck he could feel a sudden brush of cool air caressing him. He budged only an inch or two without taking a glance behind him. Soon enough, however, his own boredom got the best of him. The cool air on his neck was gradually becoming a nuisance, along with the idiocies of an animated hippie cat and his misadventures.

Jeremiah stood up from his seat and simply dragged his body out of the row and eventually out of the theater altogether. He passed the concession stand in the lobby on his way out the door and into the night to find some white and black teenagers standing around laughing and hanging out.

Jeremiah zipped up his jacket and carried on past the young ones on the way to his Camaro that was parked in the lot. The very instant Jeremiah got inside a heavy blanket of quiet stroked his body. He sat and soaked in its luster for as long as he could before the boisterous noises of the kids from across the parking lot laughing out loud disrupted his calm. That was when the cool air began to creep inside the vehicle. Jeremiah turned on the ignition before giving the theater one final glimpse. He did what he had to do inside; he was pleased with himself, if not for only a few minutes. And with that, the man pulled out of the lot and onto the road.

The section of town he was driving in wasn't exactly the most desirable, even though there were far worse. He was only five minutes away from Downtown, which meant that he wasn't all too far from his own home; the very last place on earth he wanted to end up.

As he tooled along Jeremiah couldn't help but to be whipped across the back of his neck by more cool air. Rather than turn around he simply cut on the heat inside the car and allowed its warm breath to

whisper into his face. But still, the stifling coolness from the backseat continued to press against his skin.

Jeremiah came to a stop at a traffic light. Just as he was about to spin around his eyes suddenly caught a collection of brightly clad women all standing together in a huddle at a nearby corner. The very second Jeremiah spotted one particular lady he immediately flicked his headlights off and on before looking all around and carefully pulling over towards the curb. He reached over and rolled down the window. Checking from left to right Gwen came over dressed in a pair of red, high-heeled boots and a black fur coat.

"Hey, buddy, can you get me outta here?" She poked her blushing red face through the open window.

"You betcha," Jeremiah replied while unlocking the door.

Gwen swiftly jumped into the car and slammed the door shut. "You remember what we talked about the other night about going to your place, right?"

Pulling back onto the road, Jeremiah hesitantly replied with a gulp, "Uh...yeah, I remember. That's not a problem."

"Good, because it's getting too hot even out here," Gwen griped while taking a tube of lipstick from out of her purse and marking her lips with it in the rearview mirror. "Just last night, a girlfriend of mine was taken in."

"Really," Jeremiah sounded concerned.

"Yep, she has two kids she has to feed, too. Poor girl, this is all she needs, the fuzz breathing down her neck for working."

Jeremiah just shamefully shook his head from side to side while relishing in his mind what he needed to do later on. The thought of going back to his apartment again had been lingering about inside his head for days. And sitting there right next to Gwen's warm and willing body didn't make his decision any more desirable.

Sighing, Gwen blurted out, "Look, about the other night, I didn't mean to come off so rude."

Coming back to life, Jeremiah smirked, "Oh...don't worry about it."

"No, no, I know I can be a real asshole sometimes, but you just have to understand that I'm not used to nice guys in this business."

"Don't mention it. I guess we Jewish folk have a knack for running our mouths a little too much."

"You're Jewish?" Gwen looked over astonished.

"Uh, yeah," Jeremiah replied in a rather apprehensive way.

"Geez," Gwen giggled. "Don't take offense to this, but I honestly thought you were German at first."

Jeremiah laughed out loud before saying, "That's a trip!"

"Yeah, tell me about it!" Gwen laughed right back. "So tell me, how did you end up finding me out here of all places? What, do you have one of those Lost in Space trackers or something?"

Jeremiah continued to smile. "Actually, I was at The Porter catching a couple of films."

"Oh, I forgot that wasn't too far from where I was."

"I don't want you to think that I'm following you or keeping tabs on you. I guess I just enjoy talking to someone every now and then."

Nodding her head, Gwen asked, "So are you saying that I'm your favorite?"

"I guess you could say that." Jeremiah glanced her way. "You've put up with me this long."

Patting him on his knee, Gwen replied, "Well, if it makes you feel any better, you're my favorite, too. But don't let that go to your head. I mean, we won't be having Thanksgiving dinner together anytime soon."

Jeremiah laughed again. "I understand.

"Damn, I swear I love this time of the year." Gwen clasped her hands together in a rubbing motion. "Halloween and cool nights. C'mon, let's turn on the radio and have some fun!"

Jeremiah was more than eager to grant her wish as he reached forward and cut on the radio. Instantly, Queen's, 'We are the Champions,' blasted out on the speakers.

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Gwen burst out in enthusiasm. "At least they're not playing that stupid Star Wars song for the umpteenth time! God, I've had it up to here with that shit!"

Jeremiah just kept on down the road that eventually led to the highway while keeping an anxious eye on the portion of Gwen's legs that wasn't covered by her knee high boots.

"I've never been much of a fan of British rock, but these guys aren't too bad." Gwen stated. "Listening to this while standing around on the corner could definitely keep a person in a warm state of mind."

"I can see how you mean." Jeremiah stared a moment at Gwen.

"Speaking of warm, how is it that you have the heat on in here and it still feels cold?" She looked all around the car.

Jeremiah as well was awestruck at the occurrence, but all he could think of doing was turning the heater up one more notch and saying, "I'm no car expert, but something tells me that this thing may be

on the fritz."

The more he fiddled with the heater, the cooler it seemed to become inside the vehicle until he just gave up.

"How much further do you live from here?" From NôvelDrama.Org.

"Uh, about ten more miles," Jeremiah responded.

"Good, because it feels almost like winter in here," Gwen blew into her hands.

Jeremiah felt it as well...it was far too cold.

***

"So, if you were a shrink, why did you leave your practice?" Gwen asked while climbing out of Jeremiah's car. "I mean, you seem like a really smart guy. Was it too hard for you anymore?"

Getting out and locking his door behind him, Jeremiah reluctantly sighed, "Sometimes we become so overwhelmed to where listening to other people's problems becomes a burden."

"Well, I guess that would explain the nice car." Gwen surmised as she followed Jeremiah towards the four story condominium up ahead.

Jeremiah simply disregarded the statement and focused all of his jittery attention on the building which he was drawing closer and closer to with every passing second.

There were several people coming out of the front door laughing and joking around. Both Jeremiah and Gwen passed them on the way inside. Jeremiah dropped his head and made sure they were just simple blurs in the night. As they entered into the clean building and stood at the elevator, Gwen couldn't help but to scan the lobby area in marvelous wonder.

"This place is gorgeous. Why haven't we been coming here all the time? What, are you too embarrassed?" She smirked.

Jeremiah blushed before saying, "No, no, it's not that. They've just been doing some...construction around here. The paint smell tends to make a person real sick after a while."

The elevator doors opened. Jeremiah and Gwen both boarded and rode all the way up to the fourth floor. Even before the doors opened once more, Jeremiah's stomach took an uphill flight right into his throat. The doors flung open so quickly that he thought the elevator itself wasn't operating properly. Stepping out and onto the floor, Gwen continued to be overtaken by the grandeur of the unspoiled white walls and newly shampooed carpet.

"This place is a palace." Her eyes bugged out. "I guess shrinks really do good for themselves."

Dragging his feet with his hands inside his jacket pockets, Jeremiah bashfully murmured, "Yeah, but I won't be here too much longer."

"Why not," Gwen asked.

"I'm unemployed." He shrugged his shoulders. "I kinda left my other practice abruptly. If I don't find something by the end of this month, then I can kiss this place goodbye."

Snickering, Gwen replied, "Then that means you don't have much longer to go, buddy."

Glancing back, Jeremiah haplessly remarked, "Yeah, tell me about it."

Jeremiah stopped at a door and pulled a key from out of his back pocket. He then unlocked the door and flicked on the light switch that was found on the left side of the wall. Instantly the entire living room was illuminated in a dull, soothing light from corner to corner. Jeremiah allowed Gwen inside before closing the door behind him.

"Why don't you give me your coat?" Jeremiah offered, taking her fur off.

"Thanks." Gwen drifted away as she toured the sizable living room which was furnished with a big screen television, two couches and a recliner.

"Go ahead and have a seat." Jeremiah pointed at one of the couches. "Would you like something to drink?"

Sitting herself down, Gwen responded, "You got a beer?"

"Yeah," Jeremiah said as he laid her fur down onto the other couch and took off towards the kitchen. "I've got Michelob and Budweiser!" He announced from the refrigerator.

"Budweiser will do!"

Jeremiah took out one bottle and brought it back into the living room where Gwen was comfortably seated.

"Thanks." She took the bottle. "Hey, I know it's late, but do you think I can catch the news real quick? I promise I won't charge you extra." She smiled.

Smiling back, Jeremiah responded, "Sure, go ahead. I gotta go and clean up a bit in the bathroom. I'll be right back."

Jeremiah scooted on into the bathroom. He turned on the light inside the tiny room and quickly took a leak inside the toilet before stepping over to the sink, grabbing a dry rag and scrubbing his midsection. Once he was through cleansing himself, he tossed the wet rag into a nearby basket and turned to catch the one thing in the mirror that had seized him so violently...his reflection. The man stood at the sink and studied himself for the longest time. His overgrown beard and red eyes made him appear as though he hadn't taken a wink of rest in weeks. Ever so sullenly he reached into his back pocket to pull

out a photo of Julie. All he could do was stand and stare at the woman. He expected emotion; whether good or bad. But nothing registered inside of him, not even a hint or tingle, just complete and utter stillness.

A cat's meow all of the sudden disrupted Jeremiah's brooding. Immediately he dropped Julie's picture into the sink and picked up the black and white feline.

"Hey there, little guy." Jeremiah petted the purring animal. "Sorry I was gone for so long."

"I think there's a short with your kitchen lights!" Gwen said out loud.

Subtly alarmed, Jeremiah, with his cat in his arms, came back into the living room to see exactly what she was talking about.

"Hey, I didn't know you had a cat." Gwen jumped up from off the couch. She immediately took the cat out of Jeremiah's arms and embraced it in her own. "My grandkids want a cat for Christmas. If things keep going well for me then they just may get their wish."

"What were you saying about the kitchen again?"

"Oh, I was just sitting here watching TV and then the lights in there started coming off and on."

Jeremiah looked straight into the kitchen to see the lights remain stationary. "I just changed the bulb last month. I can't imagine what it could be." He shrugged.

"Oh," Gwen looked up as she drew close to Jeremiah's ear, "and just so you know, threesomes will be extra."

Jeremiah took a quaint step back with a puzzled look on his face. "Come again?"

"I said, threesomes will be extra," Gwen continued to caress the cat.

Jeremiah's facial expression never went away, as a matter of fact it only deepened the more nonchalant Gwen was in explaining herself. "I...you've got me at a loss." He stammered.

"It's okay, I've done black guys before." Gwen lowered her voice. "Just let your roommate know that I don't like it rough. Those guys can get a little aggressive, if you know what I mean."

Jeremiah pulled away from Gwen and stormed into the kitchen to find it completely void of any other individual. Racing back into the living room, Jeremiah grabbed Gwen by the arm before pulling her towards the hallway.

"What's the matter?" She struggled.

"Uh...never mind, let's just come in here."

"But what about your roommate," Gwen dropped the cat to the floor.

Yanking Gwen into his bedroom, Jeremiah slammed the door shut and looked the woman dead in the eye. "Look, I don't know what you think you saw, but I don't have a roommate." He gasped for air.

"So who was the guy in—

Without allowing her to complete her sentence, Jeremiah immediately grabbed Gwen and planted a big, wet kiss on her lips.

"Are you okay?" She jerked herself away from the man's grip.

Just then, Jeremiah's cat began to hiss at the closed closet door. Jeremiah spun around to see what was unsettling it.

"Do you wanna tell me just what the hell is going on?" Gwen became restless.

No sooner had she said that, the closet door's knob began to rattle and twist, making it sound as if the door itself were about to come right off its own hinges.

"Who's in there?" Gwen skittishly began to back up.

Jeremiah held his breath while nervously racing from the door to Gwen and back again in complete confusion. The cat assumed an attack position at that point, looking as if it were about two seconds from pouncing.

"Look, I'm not into all this strange shit!" Gwen began to open the bedroom door.

Jeremiah managed to grab Gwen by the arm. "Just wait!" He impatiently yelled.

Gwen reached into her purse and whipped out a switchblade before pointing its tip at Jeremiah's face. "Stay away from me! I just wanna get outta here! And as a matter of fact, stay away from me from here on out or I'll get my pimp on you!"

Gwen flung open the bedroom door and sailed out as quickly as she could. But Jeremiah didn't seem to possess the will to chase after her, he instead remained inside his bedroom, just five feet away from the closet door that was still trying it's best to open.

"Isaac...Isaac, if that's you, please, I'm sorry!" He hollered with tears in his eyes. "I'm not the one who—

Right then, the closet door stopped rattling just before a beastly growl sounded from the other end. Jeremiah ceased to breathe at that very instant. He just stood with his mouth opened wide and watched along with his cat as the door slowly cracked open. It remained open for a few seconds before a large, hairy arm quickly reached out and snatched the cat inside with the door slamming shut behind it.

"Isaac, no," Jeremiah screamed his lungs out.

The beast inside the closet roared and bumped up against the door, sounding as if it were fighting something as huge and monstrous as itself. For Jeremiah, he couldn't tell if he were awake or asleep at that stage. All he was aware of was that he couldn't budge an inch. Just standing in place and shaking seemed to be the only movement he could register. He couldn't even hear his cat inside the closet; just the larger animal rampaging inside a small enclosure as if it were a cage.

Then, without any warning, the rage came to an abrupt end. All was silent for a moment or two before the door opened and Jeremiah's cat, or better yet, what was left of his cat, came hurtling out of the closet and onto the floor before his feet. Jeremiah managed to tear his eyes away from the closet door that remained open to look down at his mutilated pet in sheer horror. Beyond all the blood he couldn't tell the front end from the back. It looked like it had been run over two or three times by a truck.

"What in the hell is going on in here?" A balding, middle-aged white man came into the bedroom in his pajamas.

Jeremiah heard the man, but responding to his question was nearly impossible. The man gawked at Jeremiah for a moment before stepping past him and gazing down at the dead thing on the floor in disgust.

"Are you kidding me?" He looked back at Jeremiah with jolting shock in his brown eyes. "You just killed your own cat." He then gasped before taking Jeremiah by the shoulders. "Look at me, fella! What the hell happened in here?

Jeremiah took one more glance at the closet before tearing himself away from the man's hold and running out of his bedroom and out the front door where other neighbors were standing and staring in wonder.

"Hey, come back here!" The man yelled.

But Jeremiah kept on running. He raced and tripped down the back stairs until he made it outside to his car, which he promptly got inside and took off down the road in.

"I didn't do it, Isaac." He mumbled to himself over and over again without ceasing. "Fuck you, too!" He then squealed as he pressed harder down onto the gas.

Before he knew it, he was well past 120mph.