Chapter 35

Connoisseurs of the cinema in the South Jersey suburbs do not patronize the Loews 24-plex across from the Berry Hill Mall. They prefer the Ritz, in spite of its obscure location in Voorhees Township. Although the selection of movies is probably 80% identical in the two places, the ambience at the Ritz is not designed to attract mall rats, as it is at the 24-plex. The floors in the auditorium do not feel sticky from spilled soft drinks. And the lobby does not have a carnival atmosphere like the one at Loews with garish lighting, plenty of mirrors, action/adventure games lining the walls, and junk food. As it lacks the elements that teenagers find so appealing, it also lacks teenagers. Which has a certain appeal for serious moviegoers.

Bruno didn’t realize this when they decided to catch the movie at the 24-plex. But as soon as he saw the lobby, he knew they’d come to the right place. Biff seemed to be in his natural element. His already formidable chest and shoulders seemed even more pumped up than usual, and his eyes darted greedily from shooting games to car chase games to intergalactic strategy and warfare games.

Biff waited in one line for popcorn. Bruno stood at the opposite end of the counter and purchased about a half-dozen giant-sized boxes of candy. Something made him choose two boxes of Milk Duds, one gigantic box of Almond Joy, and an equally large package of Dots. He quickly stuffed these into his pants and jacket pockets, before Biff could see what he was doing.

When the film finally started rolling, Biff seemed edgy and restless. The historical setup took a while. There was too much jawing and court etiquette, too many funny costumes. But when an unprincipled warlord sent his thugs to waylay the sage and his entourage, a gigantic battle ensued. Bruno could tell that Biff was studying each and every move. Even the impossible ones that were obviously generated by computer. Like when the sage jumped vertically 20 feet in the air and then started delivering a flurry of kicks and sword thrusts as he corkscrewed softly to the ground.

And this is a guy who thinks psychics are cons, thought Bruno to himself. He waited a bit, however, until the story reached present-day L.A. and the sage was going to have to take on an entire street gang single-handedly. “Gotta pee,” he mumbled and got up to go as though it were the most normal thing in the world. Biff almost fell for it, but then recovered in time. He tore himself away from the movie and accompanied Bruno to the men’s room.

They had the place to themselves, and Bruno took his time, talking to Biff about this and that while he performed at the urinal. Biff went as well, but didn’t try to keep up his end of the conversation. Bruno thought that was a good sign.

When they found their places again, the street gang had been subjugated and, naturally, had decided to adopt the Chinese sage/martial artist as their leader. Then there was some confusing business about evil corporate types, who were deliberately selling faulty GFI outlets to orphanages in the Third World. Then the sage rescued K-Mart from a gangbang, but he had to fight her, too, before he could win her heart. They engaged in a dramatic confrontation, which, according to some critics, borrowed choreography from Swan Lake, substituting jabs and kicks for relevés and entrechats.

Bruno knew this was the moment. He uttered a low groan, “unnnhhhh,” and punched Biff on the shoulder. “Sorry, man. When you gotta go …”

“You just went,” Biff protested.

“C’mon,” Bruno grabbed at his arm to hurry him along. “Gotta go now.”

In the bathroom, there was a small group of 13- to 15-year-olds, combing their hair, talking trash, and practicing their own karate moves. They were dressed in the latest rapper-approved fashion, but they were clearly harmless suburban kids.

Bruno hurried into one of the stalls and locked the door. The kids laughed that he’d come with his own armed guard. They also razzed Biff, who was not amused.

The psychic went to work. He started moaning and grunting like someone struggling to move his bowels. Then he made a noise like thunder as he dropped the entire package of Almond Joy into the toilet bowl.

“Diss-gusting!” cried one of the teenagers in a doo-rag and a green jersey with the name McCoy across the shoulders. His face wrinkled in pain, then broke out in a huge grin.

Inexplicably a stench filled the bathroom, as Bruno primed himself for the next bombing run. Was someone else in here, using another stall? Or was it a psychic artifact? Encouraged, Bruno revved up the sound effects for an even bigger strain. This time he emptied two giant boxes of Milk Duds into the bowl simultaneously. After the splashes, he moaned piteously. “I think it was the jalapeño poppers back there at the saloon.”

The boys roared with laughter—even as their faces reflected total nausea. “You better go in there and help him, bro,” they said to Biff, who couldn’t believe his misfortune. He sensed that Katarina Martinez was about to get naked and here he was in the bathroom, keeping an eye on—what—a colleague with dysentery? What was he doing here?

Bruno started winding up for a new round of moans. Everybody knew what was coming. In fact, Bruno was getting the Dots ready for a strafing run. He muttered piteously, “This could take a while.”

That did it for the kids. “Total gross-out, man. Let’s go back and see what Emily and Natilda are doing. Even they ain’t so disgusting as this is.”

That left Biff standing there by his lonesome. He looked at Bruno’s scrawny legs under the stall door with his pants pulled down around his ankles. Where was the psychic going to go in his condition? It was stupid to wait around. “Can I trust you?” he asked softly. “I think you need your privacy and I’d just as soon go back to the movie.”

A handful of Dots splashed like machine gun fire peppering the surface of a placid lake. Bruno’s moan had become a high-pitched sob. “I’ll be OK. I’ll be lucky if I’m not here all night.”

“OK,” said Biff, running for the door. “I’ll look for you back in the theater.”

It was all Bruno could do to force himself to wait a full minute, to make sure the coast was clear. Then he ran like hell. He figured he had about 45 minutes to get to Mimi’s house and talk to her before Biff realized what had happened and called in the report.