The Devil's Cinema by Steve Lillebuen

Author:Steve Lillebuen [Lillebuen, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-7710-5034-3
Publisher: McClelland & Stewart
Published: 2012-03-26T16:00:00+00:00

SILENCE

DALE RETURNED TO HIS computer later on Friday evening. He used it far less frequently than his friend Johnny, but he would fire off a short message in reply whenever he did get an email.

Checking his inbox, Dale noticed Johnny had sent him an email a few minutes after 7:00 p.m. Johnny had relayed how he was going back to the woman’s place since she was finally at home. But why hadn’t he sent on the address when he got there? He regretted not asking again for the woman’s address during their brief phone call a few hours ago.

Dale headed to his house phone and dialled Johnny’s number. It rang five or six times. Finally, the line was answered: “I listen to Joe! This is John. Altinger. I am not here right now, so leave a name, phone number, and I will get back to you soon.”

Dale hung up. He tried again a few minutes later and at least once more before he went to bed. There was no answer each time, the silence adding to his heightened concerns.

THINKING OF THE WORKWEEK ahead, Hans wished Johnny a “Happy Thanksgiving” as he sent an email in anticipation of a new possibility. “On Tuesday I’m going to view two condos in your block,” Hans wrote. “You know what that means: let’s set up a car pool!”

ARRIVING BACK AT HOME from a Saturday-morning funeral, Dale dialled Johnny’s number once more. Still nothing. Every call went to his voicemail. Dale called one of his friends and told him the strange news. His concerns were mounting.

By Sunday, he was even more worried. Johnny had failed to show up for their planned motorcycle lesson. He would never have cancelled without an explanation. Dale sent him emails and phoned him a few more times but received no reply. He phoned another friend with a feeling of dread. “I think Johnny is missing.”

WILLY NOTICED JOHNNY HADN’T logged in to MSN Messenger all weekend. He could only imagine what his buddy had been up to instead. He began typing an offline message Johnny could read the next time he signed in. “How’s it going? You still at the chick’s place?”

DALE JOINED HIS FAMILY for Thanksgiving dinner on the evening of Sunday, October 12, but he found himself in the lowest of spirits. His mind kept drifting back to Johnny. Where was he? What could possibly be preventing him from returning his calls? Who was the filmmaker in the garage Johnny had mentioned? It had been two days since their last phone call. His anxiety increasing, Dale abruptly cancelled plans to visit with a few friends after dinner. Instead, he called another friend and his wife for support. He was determined to begin searching for Johnny.

Under an autumn sunset, the three of them parked at Johnny’s condo tower and headed for the main door. The metal door latch popped open with a big tug. Dale hurried down the hallway and arrived at Johnny’s front door. He knocked. He waited. There was no response.

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