Old Movies

Ernie sat cross-legged on the tattered powder blue carpet, a VHS copy of "Some Like it Hot" in one hand, and a can of warm, flat Mr. Pibb in the other. Her dad hoarded Mr. Pibb like some folks hoard cats. Speaking of which, she noticed a glob of dried cat puke near her right ankle, and absent-mindedly began to pick at it. How long had THAT been there, she wondered?

A timid knock on the front door startled her enough so that she spilled a bit of soda on the already stained carpet. No need to clean it up. Let it dry like the cat puke.

At the door stood Chrissy, her dad's young next door neighbor, and her little girl, Fancy. Chrissy had moved in a few years ago when Mr. Kaiser passed away and his family decided to rent the place out rather than sell it. It was a tiny little mid-century house, probably not more than 900 square feet, just like most of the houses on this block. And like most of the houses on the block -- including Ernie's dad's -- it was badly in need of some TLC.

"I saw your car and thought I'd come by and offer my condolences. Your dad was always so nice to us. Fancy loved coming over here to see the kitties, didn't you?" Chrissy smoothed Fancy's tousled hair. Fancy picked her nose and nodded her head.

"Thanks. You were a big help to my dad in his last months, I know. It was hard for me and my brother to be here. I really appreciate all you did for him." Ernie said this lie out loud for the first time. She told herself she had her work and her life back East and couldn't just drop it all to be here for an unknown quantity of time. She had never heard herself say it before. She cringed.

"Oh, it wasn't any problem at all. I'm not working right now, and taking your dad to doctor appointments and grocery shopping were no big deal. He always insisted on paying me for gas, and took us out to lunch, too. Fancy doesn't have a grandpa -- Mr. B was the closest thing she had. We miss him."

"Ummm..." Ernie felt her throat begin to tighten. "Would you both like to come in for a minute? Maybe there's something here you might like to keep? You know, like as a... I don't know..."

"Like a souvenir?" Fancy said, surprising both Ernie and Chrissy, who laughed.

"How do you know that word?" Chrissy said as she hoisted Fancy onto her hip, and planted a kiss on her head. " I swear, she surprises me all the time with what she comes up with!"

"Can I have Tammy?" Fancy asked with a shy smile. Tammy was one of Ernie's dad's three cats, all of which were hiding somewhere in the house.

"Fancy, no. You know we can't have any animals. The Kaisers might kick us out if they found out we had cats."

Fancy looked on the verge of crying, which Ernie knew she couldn't handle at the moment.

"Hey, Fancy. Do you want one of my dad's -- Mr. B's -- movies? I know sometimes you and your mom came over here and watched movies with him." Ernie dreaded having to go through her dad's almost 500 movies, deciding which to keep, which to get rid of. Next to his cats, her dad loved his movies most of all.

"Can I have 'The Music Man'?" Fancy turned to ask her mom. Chrissy looked at Ernie.

"You can have any movie you want -- as long as your mom says it's okay. Come on in." Ernie held open the screen door and Fancy ran in the house, knowing right where to go. Chrissy followed, smelling of cigarettes and some kind of flowery perfume.

Ernie felt her back pocket vibrate and took her cellphone out of her pocket. It was her brother, Frank. If it had been months since Ernie had seen her dad, it had been years for Frank. He held grudges.

"Chrissy, Fancy -- you two can go right ahead and start looking through the movies. My brother's calling -- I'll be with you in a minute." Ernie decided to stay out on the front porch for this conversation, knowing it would probably be brief.

"Hey Frankenstein, what's up."

"Nothing, Ernestein. I'm just calling to let you know that I probably won't be able to get there until the weekend. The kids have a lot going on -- some concerts or recitals or games or something. I don't know. Their mom keeps track of that shit. I just show up and look supportive." Frank's voice sounded a lot like their dad's. Right now, it also sounded like it was on speaker-phone. He was probably driving.

"So, do you want me to wait until you get here to start going through stuff? I'm at dad's house now. I haven't even seen the cats -- I think they're hiding somewhere. And I'm drinking a can of warm, flat Mr. Pibb. I didn't know soda could go flat if it was still in a can."

"I bet those cans are 5 years old. Drinking flat Mr. Pibb is probably what did the old bastard in. I'd be careful if I were you." Frank chuckled. "Anyway -- gotta go. I'm almost home. Start going through everything -- throw it all away for all I care. I'll see you this weekend." And he was gone. No "good-bye", of course. Frank hated good-byes.

Ernie went back into the house, which suddenly felt smaller and dingier and stuffier than she remembered as a child. Country-themed wallpaper her mother had put up in the kitchen sometime in the 70's made her want to cry. Chrissy and Fancy sat on the floor of the living room, going through stacks of VHS tapes, making little piles of favorites. Fancy suddenly stood up and ran to Ernie, holding a little black notebook.

"This was Mr. B's Magic Book of Movies!" Fancy said excitedly, handing the notebook to Ernie.

Ernie flipped through the pages. They were full of lists, mostly of movies. Lists organized under a variety of headings, according to genres, or directors, or favorite movie stars, all in her dad's meticulous handwriting. Some had asterisks in red ink next to them. Probably her dad's favorites. "Some Like it Hot" was one of them. Ernie remembered watching that with her dad whenever she came home from college. She'd seen it so many times, sometimes she'd fall asleep on the plaid, scratchy sofa, hearing the voices of Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon and Marilyn Monroe mingled with her dad's laughter as she drifted off to sleep. She never felt so safe as she did during those times.

Ernie bent over and picked up the copy of "Some Like it Hot" she had been holding when Chrissy knocked on the door. As she took the tape out of it's sleeve, something fluttered to the floor. She looked down and noticed two, one-hundred dollar bills had landed on the stained carpet. They looked so crisp and clean -- so completely out of place in this old house with the old carpet and the flat soda pop.

"Money!" Fancy yelled, as she held up two more crisp, hundred dollar bills she had obviously found in the tape she was holding of "Bambi". Chrissy grabbed the bills out of Fancy's hands.

"Those aren't ours, Fancy. Mr. B must have hid them there. You can have the movie, but you have to give the money to Miss Ernestine." Chrissy got up and walked over to Ernie, handing her the $200.00.

Ernie picked up her dad's black notebook again and looked for the asterisks -- there was one next to "Bambi", and one next to "Some Like it Hot". And there were lots and lots of other movies marked with red asterisks. Not necessarily her dad's favorites. She took a moment to count them all. Out of 500 movie titles, there were 100 red asterisks. If each of these tapes had $200 hidden in them, her dad -- her thrifty, tight-wad father who once scolded her for asking for $50 to help pay a doctor bill -- had hidden a total of $20,000.00 in VHS tapes.

"Keep it, Chrissy. Seriously, you deserve it." Ernie paused for a moment. She wasn't here when her dad was diagnosed with cancer. She wasn't here to take him to doctor appointments, or feed his cats, or watch "Some Like it Hot" with him.

"And you know what? Help me go through this book. Look for the movies with the asterisks by them. I think they might have money in them. And whatever you find, you can keep. For being such a kind neighbor to my dad. For being there when his daughter couldn't." Or wouldn't, she thought.

Chrissy refused at first, of course. That is what kind people do. But Ernie knew she needed the money, and knew that it wouldn't take much coaxing for Chrissy to finally, happily accept.

Ernie's back pocket vibrated again. Frank, again. She answered, unsure of what to say.

"Hey Ernestein. Just got home and remembered that I wanted that sculpture I bought for dad in Rome. You know, the one that looks like Ben-Hur in his chariot?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"Find anything else good while you're rooting around? I doubt it. Probably just stacks of useless movies. About the only thing the old man spent money on."

Ernie stood there. She felt her heart breaking. She felt her knees shaking.

"No, didn't find anything, really. Just a bunch of old movies. See you when you get here."