Free Murder at the Art & Craft Fair by Steve Demaree Page A

after taking a vote, it was unanimous that we
continue to eat something our doctors would not recommend, but only on that
weekend, and another weekend in the distant future. There were only a handful
of cars when we arrived at the drive-in, and most of those had chosen to park
near the front and the playground equipment or close to the concession stand.
Only one other car had parked on the back row, and Lou pulled into a spot near
the middle of that row. We got out of the car to check out what the concession
stand had to offer, as if we were expecting something new, or anticipated
listening to someone tell us about the chef’s specials. One look behind me told
me that we wouldn’t be all that alone. While October temperatures can
fluctuate, this particular night was comfortable, but that probably didn’t
matter to the two boys hiding out in the trees behind the drive-in, waiting to
see a couple of scary movies for free. I wondered how many other freeloaders
would arrive to watch the movies under cover of those trees. I also wondered if
a drive-in employee would walk the grounds to discourage this practice.
    We stalked off to claim our grubstake, or was it
merely our grub? A few minutes later, the four of us returned, all of us loaded
down with hot dogs, potato chips, popcorn, pizza, soft drinks, and candy bars.
After we polished off all of that, we’d consider a return trip to pick up some
ice cream bars. I had a feeling that my Wii wouldn’t recognize me on Monday
morning. I knew it would shout at me and call me obese, but I was used to that.
I wondered if some day I could lose enough weight that it would merely call me
fat, or overweight.
    While we ate, Jennifer used her index finger to remove
a dab of mustard from the edge of my mouth and reposition it on the tip of my
nose. Immediately, I leaned forward to rub noses with her, and she laughed. I
took advantage of the situation and gently pressed my lips to hers. I concluded
that going to the drive-in with her exceeded any previous drive-in memories
with Lou. Lou and I never put our lips together, and the last time we shared
the back seat at the drive-in was when either his parents or my parents took us
to the drive-in when we were young.
    After the four of us polished off a pepperoni pizza,
which followed the hot dogs and chips, we slowed down and settled back, fluffed
our pillows, so to speak. Jennifer dipped her hand into the popcorn bag and
motioned for me to scoot away from her. Then she tossed a kernel of popcorn at
me, which I tried to catch in my mouth. It bounced off my upper lip, and I
grabbed it as it bounded off my shirt. I stuffed it in my mouth. It had been
quite some time since I had eaten only one kernel of popcorn at a time. I
grabbed the popcorn bag from Jennifer, selected one popped kernel and aimed for
her open mouth. She snapped at it like a turtle, but was no more successful
than I. We continued to take turns until Lou, without turning around, said, “Whoever
gets popcorn all over my car has to clean it up.” Some people are just no fun.
    After we finished eating and cleaning up, and I had
wiped my hands on a napkin and followed that with a wet nap, I reached down to
the floorboard in front of the back seat, plucked a bag and handed it to
Jennifer. Realizing that it was much too large to hold an engagement ring, she
opened it to find the scarf I had bought for her. She wrapped it around my neck
and hers, and then reeled me in. This caused Lou to part lips from Thelma Lou
long enough to say, “No P.D.A.” as he pointed at the contingent of boys who
were a mere thirty feet or so away from us, and were watching the show that
preceded the movie. That was okay. It would be dark soon. I received a short
wish list from Jennifer which contained a few inexpensive items she might like,
but I was negligent when she requested a similar list from me. She asked me
what I’d bought for myself that day, and after taking a moment to backtrack
down three aisles