Magic

I breathe deeply in and out, my eyes squeezed tightly shut and my heart pounding in my chest as I try to calm myself. My hands tightly grip the steering wheel while I sit in the parking lot of the Greenmark Theater. I hate this feeling. Every moment, my stomach feels as if it’s twisting into knots. Even when there is not a thing to be anxious about, my body doesn’t seem to know it. 

Despite feeling it all my life, I can’t seem to explain it to anyone else. My anxieties are constant and always painful. But in the everyday they sort of become a dull throbbing pain. It fades to the background, not as glaring, but never forgotten. It is only in the unfamiliar and dreaded moments that the throbbing becomes piercing. Like right now. My stomach continues to do somersaults while spots cloud my vision, my nauseousness becoming more severe with every minute that ticks closer to 3:30.  

“Suck it up”, I tell myself, “You can do this. You’re going to be okay. Plenty of people do this everyday no problem. Any idiot can do a part time job.” 

You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re going to screw up and they’ll all laugh at you. Look at that group of teenage girls over there. They’re laughing at you right now because you’re sitting in a parking lot by yourself.

My breath hitches in my throat as my breathing becomes faster with uneasiness. I press my forefingers into my temples, trying to drown out the voices in my head. The clock hits 3:25 and I slowly unbuckle my seatbelt, working up the nerve to open the door. I know I need to go inside. I don’t want to be late. 

They probably already hate you anyway. You know what’s more embarrassing than being late is being early. Then you’re just sitting there like a loser while you wait for the interviewer to come out.

I pull my knees up to my chest, gently rocking myself back and forth. I didn’t even want this job. I didn’t want to do this. But two weeks ago my mom had sat me down and given me a lecture on how being an adult came with responsibilities. If I wanted to afford things in college, I was going to have to start making my own money. I knew she was right. But how could I possibly explain to her that it wasn’t that simple. I had tried once before. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been sympathetic. She just didn’t understand. 

“Everybody feels like that as a teenager”, she had said to me. “It's a completely normal feeling, baby. Don’t you worry. You’ll grow out of it.” 

I love my mama. She has the kindest heart in the world. And as she sat there and comforted me with that thick southern drawl, I nodded and smiled, pretending that her words were helping. I knew she was only trying to help. And I knew she loved me. But I also knew this feeling wasn’t normal. It just wasn’t possible. There was no way everybody my age felt like a bug under a microscope every moment. There was no way they felt as if they were chained underwater, with no escape. It was as if I was drowning but I couldn’t die. 

Sometimes I feel okay when I pray. In those moments, no matter how rare, I am sure that God is real and loving, in spite of my brokenness. My doubts. My flaws.

But in moments like this one, sitting in my car, I forget so easily. It’s like I can’t hear Him over the noise of the world. 

I am jerked out of my thoughts as my phone timer goes off. I had set it earlier to go off at the time of my interview. Just in case anything happened and I somehow forgot. 

“Ready or not, here I go”, I mutter to myself as I open the car door. I hurry up to the brown brick building across the lot, averting my eyes from the group of girls sitting on the fountain adjacent to the theater. 

They’re probably talking about how stupid you look. 

I quicken my pace as I glance up at the large neon letters that read “Greenmark Theater”. After awkwardly holding open the door for a tiny elderly woman with a walker, I amble inside the theater, trying to look as if I’m not about to crap my pants with nervousness. Approaching the ticket booth, I see that a young girl around my age is manning it. Her golden name tag reads Alexis.

“Excuse me?” I say trepidatiously. She looks up at me with a sweet smile. Some of my nervousness fades. She looks kind. “I’m just here for a job interview. I’m supposed to meet with Bill.” 

Her eyes light up with excitement. “Awesome! You have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting another girl to work here. I’ll go grab him. Just give me a sec.”

A few moments later she returns followed by a tall man with graying hair. He walks up to me and firmly grasps my hand. 

“Julie Mangley?” he asks.

“Yes sir,” I reply with faux confidence. 

“Well it is a pleasure to meet you. Why don’t we go sit down so we can talk?” 

I follow him behind a large counter that reads Snacks and Refreshments. We walk through a hallway down to a small office. He gestures to a fold out chair across from the desk as he settles into a plush swivel chair. I shakily sit down and  give him a smile while casually wiping my sweating palms on my slacks. 

“Well Julie, I’m not gonna lie to you, we’re really desperate for some employees right now. I’ve been short staffed all year and we’re about to head into the summer, which can get real busy. We’d love to have you on. I’d just like to ask a couple of questions first if that’s okay?” 

I nod my head in assurance. “Of course, sir.” 

“Great. So what made you wanna work at Greenmark?”

I swallow nervously. “Well…if I’m being honest sir, I’m completely broke and I’m about to head off to college. I just really need a job. Any job.” 

Bill looks at me for a moment and my heart begins to race. That was definitely the wrong thing to say. 

You are such an idiot.

Of course the person that’s employing me doesn’t want to hear “I need a job. Any job.” I probably should have made up something about liking the atmosphere of the place or some other cookie cutter interview answer. Just as I am about to begin profusely apologizing, Bill bursts into laughter. 

“That might be the most honest answer I’ve ever gotten. Most of you teenagers start rambling about serving the community when I ask you that question. I just ask it ‘cause I like hearing what y’all come up with. You already had the job the moment you applied. Like I said, I’m desperate for employees. But hey, I already think I like you Julie Mangley.” 

I chuckle as the knot of nerves unfurls in my chest. The people here seem so friendly that I feel slightly less nauseous about working for the first time. 

After filling out some paperwork, Bill writes down when I can work and says he’ll email me my schedule for next week in the next couple days. As I head out the door, I look back at Alexis in the booth and see her giving me a thumbs up while grinning. I smile back and make my way to my car, taking a breath for the first time that day. 

The next Monday, I walk through the front door of Greenmark feeling as if I’m about to puke. I’m guessing yakking on my first day probably wouldn’t be the best first impression. It had still been dark as I had driven here; But as I enter the building, rays of sunlight begin peeking through the glass windows, showering the whole lobby in a golden hue. I stop for a moment, my stomach settling.

A loud, “Hey there!” breaks my silence.

Bill walks up with a large grin on his face. 

“Beautiful, ain’t it?” he says, looking in awe at the lobby showered in sunlight. “Sorry I had you come in so early on your first day but I wanted to give you some time to get settled and learn the ropes. You ready to get started?”

As I nod, Bill leads me toward his office again to show me the area to clock in. He gives me a full tour of the building, showing me every theater room, the arcade off to the right of the concession stand, and the stockroom in the back. By the time we head back out to the lobby, Alexis has arrived, as well as a young male employee I don’t know the name of. The smell of fresh popcorn fills the air and I notice they have opened up the ticket booth and front doors.

“Our early crowd’s gonna start filtering in about 10 minutes from now,” he says.

“Now,” he says, placing his hands on my shoulders, “I’m about to show you my favorite place in the whole building.” 

He guides me into the first theater, and then up a hidden stairwell I hadn’t previously noticed. As we enter a small room, I see a large rectangular box, spanning from the floor to the ceiling, with a multitude of controls and wires. And next to it is the projector for the movie.

“Most people don’t realize that the majority of theaters are using digital projectors now. Once we switch on the projector, we pretty much don’t have to do anything, barring any mechanical malfunctions.” 

“So no one has to be up here?” I ask.

“Well, no, not technically.” 

I look back at him, confused.

“This place is magic,” he says. “I don’t know that I can explain it. But any time there’s a lull and we have less people coming in, take your breaks in here. Trust me.” 

With that, he switches on the first projector; it begins emitting a loud, fan-like noise. I watch the pictures being projected onto the screen in the theater below. 

He leads me back down to the concessions stand where I am introduced to the other employee, named Joshua. He flashes me a gorgeous smile and my heart begins pounding. Trying to adjust to working in an unfamiliar place is certainly a challenge, but one I knew I could ultimately handle. But working with a guy? Absolutely not. I have no skill in talking to guys in general, let alone an extremely good looking one. 

Regardless of my nerves, I maintain my composure as Joshua shows me how to tender payments on the register and how to make the popcorn. 

“You’re doing great,” he says. “Why don’t you work on snacks and drinks and I’ll take orders.” 

“Sounds good,” I say a little too cheerily. 

“I am completely out of my depth here,” I mutter as I struggle to figure out the controls to the various machines. I’m pretty sure I have about the same level of skill as a 3-year old, but after several spilled drinks and popcorn containers, I was finally starting to get the hang of it. And Joshua’s proud smile when I finally was able to operate the slushy machine entirely on my own helped a little too. I take a short break to scarf some food down before getting back to work. 

Even though I am feeling a little better about my job duties, a sigh of relief escapes my lips when customers finally stop streaming in at around 3:00. 

Taking advantage of the lull, Alexis walks over and links her arm through mine. “Jules and I are gonna take a break Josh. Could you cover our last hour before the next shift comes in?” 

“Fine, but only because it’s Julie’s first day,” he says, sending a flirtatious look my way. 

She rolls her eyes before steering me toward the nearest theater. 

“Jules?” I ask.

“Yes,” she says seriously. “Nicknames are my thing. And you need one immediately on account of me deciding you’re my new best friend.”

She then launches into a story about the weird middle-aged dude with blue hair that came through the line asking for her number. Even though I had planned not to get too attached to anyone since I’m about to leave for college, I can't help but like Alexis. 

“I mean, you saw him right? Total weirdo. No one whose hairline is receding should be going to see Terminator 3. Your glory days are over Melvin. Probably going through some kind of mid-life crisis…”

Alexis chatters on as I realize we’re in the projector room. The loud noise coming from the projector drowns out her voice as we take a seat in the chairs sitting in front of the small window that overlooks the theater. 

“Why are we up here?” I ask.

“Didn’t Bill show you this place earlier?”

“Well yeah…but–”

“You thought he was talking crazy when he said it was–well how did he put it?–‘magic?’,” she says while wiggling her eyebrows dramatically. 

“Not crazy,” I say. “But sometimes adults tend to have a different idea of what’s fun.”

“Totally get it,” she says. “But I happen to agree with Bill about this. Yes, he’s like practically in the grave, but this room is special. Every time I’m in here, I feel, like, weirdly calm. Just trust me, girl. We have to wait for the next movie to start. Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

A few minutes later, Alexis walks back into the room laden down with popcorn, chocolate, and drinks. I jump up and help her, placing them on the floor in front of the chairs. Just as we’re sitting back down, the lights in the theater and the projection room turn off automatically. We sit in silence as the movie begins, both of us mesmerized by the reflecting pictures on the screen. 

About 30 minutes into the movie, I look over at my new friend, who has somehow managed to fall asleep face first in the popcorn bowl. I laugh quietly for a moment before closing my eyes and waiting for the feeling. The crushing weight. 

But it isn’t there. 

The voice isn’t there either. Normally, when I make a new friend, I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop. For that person to realize they don’t want to be around me anymore. 

 But none of those worries fill my head. It feels completely clear for maybe the first time in my life. 

Magic, I think, a small smile spreading across my face.