Monday, Dec 23, 2021
I woke up with a sense of purpose. I knew I had a job to do, and I knew I was the man for the job. It wasn’t for those faint of heart, but destiny had chosen me.
I had to convince Sara about Die Hard being the next movie in our Christmas movie marathon. It came down to Die Hard and Scrooged and I desperately wanted to save Scrooged as the last movie of the marathon, and not least because Pete had played the lead role in the school play just a few days earlier.
There was a symmetry in it. I didn’t know exactly what it was but surely it was there.
“Listen, Sara,” I began, as we sat at the kitchen table at breakfast. She was reading the newspaper and sipping her tea absentmindedly.
She looked up.
“What is it?” she said. “You never say ‘listen, Sara’ when it’s about something good.”
“It’s one of those funny good news – bad news situations. Which ones would you like to hear first?”
She sighed.
“Give me the good news first.”
“I have solved our problem with the Christmas movies. Ta-tah!” I said and spread my arms.
“Wait, we have a problem with the Christmas movies?”
“We had a problem. Past tense, thanks to moi,” I said, keeping it light.
“And the bad news…?”
“Well, it’s really a good news – good news situation, if you think about it…”
“What is it?”
“We’ll have to run Die Hard tonight.”
Not only did Sara not say anything, she didn’t even make a noise. She must’ve been holding her breath and with it, the rage she felt, also hidden deep inside her. It was dead silent in the kitchen, even Einstein froze in place. It was so quiet in our apartment that I heard Sara’s next movement, the batting of her eyelashes, as she blinked.
Her next move was easier to hear.
“IT’S NOT A CHRISTMAS MOVIE!” she shouted.
“Well, technical–“
“Technically, my ass,” she said. I knew she was really upset. Even though Sara was a straight shooter who spoke her mind, she only used foul language when she was furious .
“Does it have a Santa Claus?”
“No, but the–“
“The answer is no? Just what I thought. Are there any cute little monsters in it?”
“Well, Alan Rickm–“
“No? Exactly. Magic?”
“No, no magic,” I said.
“Three strikes, and it’s out. So, we don’t have a Christmas movie for tonight? Or tomorrow night?”
“We have Scrooged, but I really do think it works best on Christmas Eve.”
“And that’s it? No Miracle on 34th Street?”
“You know the remake’s a Nineties movie. So, no. We have Gremlins, Ghostbusters II, Scrooged … and … Die Hard,” I said.
Sara let out a long sigh and pulled her hair back.
“OK. Well,” she said, got up and poured herself another cup of coffee.
“But Die Hard’s really not that bad, is it?” I tried.
“Do you honestly think it spreads happiness, holiday spirit, and all that?” Sara said and looked me in the eye.
“Yippee-ki-yay?” I said.
“No,” Sara said, and that was the end of it.
I walked to Atlas that morning. Sara would take the Beetle when she came to the theatre later on. Antti was selling trees on the market square again. He seemed to be doing a good job, he only had a few trees left. Again, he asked about Dad and lamented the fact that he hadn’t been to their poker nights lately.
As I continued my walk toward Atlas, I noticed the same woman who had been to Kim’s Basement the day before walking slowly about twenty paces in front of me. When she had walked about ten meters past Kim’s, she suddenly turned around and walked slowly the other way. I met her just outside the record store, and saw how she looked inside, and fixed her hair in the reflection of the store window.
And right there, like a bolt of lightning, it hit me. I ran to Atlas as fast as I could and called Pete. I needed a favour. No, Cyrano needed a favour.
➡️ More on Someday Jennifer (HarperCollins Canada 2019)