The end result of my grandfather’s efforts was a smashing success, in my opinion – especially in terms of upgrading the home theater. It had been one of the few rooms in the house where I hadn’t had to teleport a bunch of archaic furniture into storage. Looking around the room now as Myshtal and I entered, I couldn’t help but think – and not for the first time – that Gramps had probably updated everything in here as part of a plan to use the embassy as his secret man-cave.
I let Myshtal pick the movie, and she chose a crime drama about a Robin Hood-esque gang trying to pull off a major heist. I felt it was a good choice, but Myshtal had probably picked it for reasons other than its entertainment value. While she understood that there was a lack of realism in films, she saw them as a way to learn more about Earth culture. There was a similar art form on Caeles, but it lacked the variation on themes that our movies embraced.
For instance, in a Caelesian “film,” a thief would always be a bad guy. There would never be a situation whereby the audience’s sympathies would be aligned with the person trying to commit a crime. It simply wasn’t done. Likewise with other motifs; for example, a Caelesian movie about an arranged marriage would never lead viewers to wishing that, say, the prospective bride break off the engagement in order to marry her true love. (Not to say that those things never happened; they were just never represented in Caelesian films.) Bearing all that in mind, it’s not surprising that Myshtal found this particular form of entertainment fascinating.
I started the movie, then spent a moment firing up the popcorn maker. A few minutes later, we were seated in the front row recliners with a bowl of popcorn between us, as well as a couple of sodas from the mini fridge.
I had to admit that watching a movie with Myshtal was a treat. Almost as soon as the film started, she began making droll little comments about the on-screen action. For instance, one early scene showed a woman in a massive walk-in closet that was full of men’s attire.
“That entire wardrobe is hideous,” Myshtal declared. “She should just burn it.”
Almost immediately, the woman on the screen pulled out a lighter and then walked through the closet, setting various articles of clothing on fire. (It turned out the woman was burning her husband’s things after discovering he had a mistress.)
In another scene, a street musician was playing a guitar and singing, trying to entice passersby to place money in a tin cup.
“That instrument is completely out of tune,” Myshtal stated. “Someone should smash it.”
Within thirty seconds, a hard-nosed character snatched the guitar from the musician and smashed it into the ground several times until it broke into pieces.
After Myshtal made several more observations of this nature (and essentially predicted what the characters were going to do), I paused the movie.
“Stop. Just stop,” I said, laughing. “You’ve obviously seen this film before.”
“Moi?” she intoned mockingly, placing a hand innocently on her chest – a gesture that showed she was much more familiar with Earth culture than she occasionally let on.
“Yes, you,” I stressed with a smile. “You’re predicting every scene like you wrote the script.”
“It’s not my fault that Earth behavior is completely predictable.”
“It isn’t, due to the fact that we’re a complex species.”
“Of course you are,” she said condescendingly. “I’m sure amoebas consider themselves a complex species as well.”
I stared at her for a moment, and then we both burst out laughing. I’d been so wrapped up in other things lately, that I’d actually forgotten that Myshtal had a great sense of humor.
“Okay, you’re right,” she admitted after her laughter subsided. “I did see that film before. I’ve been watching a lot of them lately in my spare time in order to get more acclimated to Earth culture.”
I thought for a moment. “Is that where you picked up a couple of the gestures you’ve used lately – like sticking out your tongue?”
“Yes,” she said, grinning sheepishly.
“Well, keep up the good work.”
She smiled at my words of encouragement, and I sensed something like pride coming from her in relation to a job well done.
With Myshtal promising not to foretell any more of the action, we went back to the movie. However, we’d only been watching a few minutes when the phone rang. There was a cordless extension in the theater room, and – knowing that Mom was working and that my grandparents were probably in bed – I teleported the phone into my hand.
I switched the phone on and gave a perfunctory “Hello.”
“Hey, handsome,” said a honeyed feminine voice on the other end of the line.
“Hey,” I replied as I came to my feet, smiling at hearing my girlfriend’s voice. I gestured to Myshtal that I needed to take this call, then began walking towards the door after she nodded in acknowledgment.
“What are you doing?” Electra asked.
“Thinking about you, of course.” I stepped out of the theater room and closed the door behind me.
“Good answer,” Electra said, giggling. As always, her laughter was intoxicating and infectious, making me chuckle along with her. “Seriously though, are you busy?”
“No – just watching a movie.”
“Feel like hanging out?”
“Is that a trick question?” I asked, causing her to laugh again. I had rarely, if ever, turned down a chance to spend time with her. “Should I
