Halloween Ends: the Official Movie Novelization by Paul Brad Logan

Author:Paul Brad Logan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags:  
Publisher: Titan

ELVIS ROSS

Velkovsky’s, Halloween Night, 1982

Back when Velkovsky’s was mainly a cop bar, Frank Hawkins nursed a seltzer water with a group of officer buddies who were sucking down cans of beer. Frank had been working up the nerve to approach Laurie, who’d come in alone just a minute earlier. Frank had never developed a taste for alcohol, but he’d have loved to have had some liquid courage flowing through his veins to give him enough nerve to tell Laurie all the things he wished to tell her.

Laurie stood at the other end of the bar and ordered three double Scotches. She downed one there and took the other two to an empty booth, where she proceeded to down them in quick succession. Laurie’s eyes anxiously moved around the bar, waiting for someone to join her.

Laurie looked achingly beautiful beneath the neon light of the sign hanging in the window. Frank just thought she was the sweetest, brightest, and most beautiful girl in all of Haddonfield. And Frank wanted nothing more than to heal her heartbreak, which you could see in every look she gave. Any time you saw Laurie’s eyes after that night, you could also see her pain.

Laurie finished her third drink, and Frank worried what might happen in her intoxicated state.

He decided to approach and make sure she was all right. But just before reaching her booth, all the words he wanted to tell her got tangled up in his head, and Frank retreated to the bathroom to arrange them into something more coherent.

Frank stood in front of the cracked mirror of the bathroom, staring at his nervous expression. He wet his hands and patted down a few unruly strands of hair that crossed his part line. Then he practiced, “Hey, there, Laurie, how’ve you been? It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Frank smirked. “‘Hasn’t it?’ Get real, man.”

Frank shook it off and began again. “Laurie, it’s good to see you. How are you holding up? Are you doin’ all right?”

“Oh, Frank, I’ve been waiting for this moment for years. Kiss me, you big ole stud.” A faux-femme voice teased from within a bathroom stall. A second later, the door swung open, and Elvis Ross rolled out laughing his butt off.

“I was just messing around. I knew you were in there, Elvis,” Frank said with a humiliated chuckle.

Elvis Ross shoved his way past Frank to get in front of the mirror. He dragged a comb across his jet-black head of hair and then ran it down his sideburns and handlebar mustache.

“You want some tips, Casanova? Study the master,” Elvis Ross advised him.

“Oh, you’re the master now? Is that right?” Frank joked; his cheeks were bright red with embarrassment. He prayed Elvis Ross wouldn’t tell the fellas what he’d heard.

Frank watched Elvis strut out of the bathroom, envious of his swagger.

Elvis might have been beer-bloated and always stunk of cheap cologne, but he never seemed to have a problem finding female company. He’d been fortunate enough to be born without any self-doubt, which gave him plenty of fuel for his conquests.

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