At Death's Door, Chapter 6
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: manipulation, slight gaslighting, little bit of angst, mentions of suicide.
Dean’s POV
“Get your head in the game Sammy,” I said, heading over to the library. He looked at me sideways, “ever since we left the hotel, you’ve been acting strange. You were hardly paying attention when we were talking to the girlfriend. You need to be in on this with me, not back at school.”
“I’m fine,” he sighed, not all there. My brow cocked but Sammy tried to shake me off, “What? I’m here Dean. I’m fine!”
“Did something happen between you and Dahlia when I left the hotel earlier?”
He looked at me shiftily before picking up the pace, “I’m fine, Dean. Drop it!”
“Sammy-“ I said, catching his arm. He stopped on a dime and ripped his arm from me. I held my hands up defensively, “alright. I won’t ask anymore. But you got to start getting in the game, or this spirit will kill us both. And you won’t make it home to your little sorority girlfriend.”
“Fine,” he said, gritting his teeth. We made our way into the library and got a computer. I started heading towards the Jericho Herald’s online archive. I tried typing in female, murder, and hitchhiking, but nothing came up. I removed Hitchhiking and put in Centennial Highway. Still nothing.
“Let me try.”
I smacked his hand away from the mouse, “I got it.” I got a ‘dude’ out, as he pushed my chair away and began typing. I growled out something about him being a control freak and he sighed.
“So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Well maybe it’s not murder,” he said, removing the word in the search bar, and replacing it with suicide. A result came up, “this is 1981. Constance Welch, 24 years old. Jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river.”
“Does it say why she did it?”
“Yeah.”
“What?”
“An hour before they found her, she called 911. Her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute and when she comes back, they aren’t breathing. Both die. There’s your violent death!”
“Hmm,” I said, thinking about it. It seemed about right. It was violent enough that it made sense, “what else does the article say?”
“Our babies were both gone, and Constance just couldn’t bear it said husband Joseph Welch,” Sammy said, reading the article, “well this guy sounds real torn up about it.”
“That bridge look familiar to you?” I asked, pointing to the picture on the computer. Sam nodded. It was of the bridge we’d been at when we’d first gotten into town.
We logged off the computer and made our way outside, “we going there now?”
I nodded, pulling out my cell phone, “just going to call your girlfriend.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Sam muttered. He visibly cringed as he said the word. I couldn’t help but feel bad about the joke. It did hit a little too close to home, “the girl I’m dating is Jess…and she happens to be friends with me and Dahlia…so don’t joke about that!”
“Whatever,” I grunted, holding the phone up to my ear. It rang twice before she answered, “hello?”
“It’s Dean,” I said briefly, “Sammy and I just got done doing some research. We’re heading back to the bridge. “
“Be careful,” she asked across the phone, “I did some research of my own when you guys were out. Constance Welch. Mother of 2, committed suic-“
“Suicide,” I said, cutting her off, “I know. We stopped by the library and read a few articles.”
“You…reading,” she laughed, “that’s rich. Who knew that you actually knew how to read!”
“Hey,” I said, stopping before getting into the Impala, “I read sometimes.”
“Oh, you’ve moved on from Busty Asian Beauties?” she taunted.
I smiled. I could practically see her standing, hand on hip, eyebrows raised at me. The tone of her voice expressed that very emotion. I put my hand on top of the Impala and looked at Sam.
“She’s insulting you, isn’t she?”
I nodded. He reached over for the phone, and I shook my head, “I’ll have you know, that magazine has great editorials.”
“Spell editorial, Dean,” she laughed, “go ahead. Spell it!”
“I don’t need to prove myself to you,” I laughed. Sam laughed from the other side of the car and got in. I did the same and passed the phone to him, “talk to her while I drive. See if she got more information.”
“Hey Dahl,” he said, taking the phone, “Dean’s driving.”
He laughed before looking down and shaking his head, “no, I’m sure that he can do more than one thing at a time. He gave me the phone because you were probably insulting him.”
He chuckled again before things got quiet.
“Ask her if she got anything else!” I said. Sam nodded.
“So, did you find out anything else?” He sighed before looking at me for a second. He shifted an inch or two away before muttering, “you know…we have to talk about it.”
“I heard that,” I said slowly. Sam looked at me, “What do you two have to talk about?”
“Nothing,” he said quickly. I reached for the phone, but he held it just out of reach, “Dahl, I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
When I got the phone, they both had disconnected the call, “What was that, Sammy?”
“Nothing.”
“Didn’t sound like nothing.”
“It’s none of your business,” he replied, “don’t worry about it, Dean.”
“I will worry about it,” I answered, “now tell me what’s going on between you two…because I didn’t catch the sexual tension vibe on the way here, but ever since we got to the hotel it’s been worse…did something happen between you two?”
“No.”
I looked at him as I parked the car, “NO?”
“Nothing happened Dean?”
“Why don’t I believe you?” I asked. He shook his head and got out of the car.
“I don’t know, but let’s just focus on the case.”
“Sure Sammy, I sighed, making my way down the bridge. I looked around on the empty bridge, “So this is where Constance took the swan dive. See anything important?”
I sighed, bracing myself against the edge of the bridge.
Sammy leaned over it, “so you think dad would have been here?”
“Well he’s chasing the same story and we’re chasing him,” I said, going back to the bridge, “I think he had to have been here!”
“Okay, so now what?” Sammy asked, following me.
“Now we keep digging til we find him. It might take a while.”
“Dean, I told you I’ve got to get back by-“
“Monday,” I replied, cutting him off, “right. The interview.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah. I forgot,” I lied, “you’re really serious about this aren’t you? You think you’re just gonna become some lawyer. Marry your girl.”
“Maybe, why not?”
“Does Jessica know the truth about you?” I asked, “does she know about the things that you’ve done?”
“No, and she’s not ever going to know.”
“Well, that’s healthy. You can pretend all you want Sammy, but sooner or later you’re gonna have to face up to who you really are.”
“Who’s that?”
“One of us,” I replied, turning back to the car, “a hunter. I may not care for demon girl in all reality, but she knows all of our secrets. Just like Hannah does.”
“No,” he said, catching up, “I’m not like you. This is not going to be my life.”
“Well, you have a responsibility.”
“To dad, and his crusade? If it weren’t for pictures, I wouldn’t even know what mom looks like. What difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, mom’s gone and she’s not coming back.”
I felt anger in the pit of my stomach. I grabbed Sammy and threw him against the support bar of the bridge, “don’t talk about her like that.”
I let him go and faced away from him. He didn’t need to go that route.
He didn’t need to speak about mom like that. My mind was half preoccupied when I saw a woman in a white nightgown down the bridge, “SAM!”
He cut in front of me, and we both stared down the spirit. She looked us dead in the eyes before letting herself go over the edge. We both ran to the edge of the bridge, but nothing was there.
“Where’d she go?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
The Impala turned over and her lights went on. I looked at it, “what the-.”
“Who’s driving your car?”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the keys. No one.
SHIT.
The tires squealed and the car made its way towards us. We both turned and began to run, “come on. Dean. Let’s go. GO!”
My baby sped towards us, and we jumped over the side of the bridge. I found myself going headfirst into the water. When I made my way to shore, I saw Sammy had caught himself on the ledge, “DEAN. DEAN. Are you alright?”
I held a hand up to him, “I’m super.”
Chapter 7
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Uma Noite em Casablanca
EUA, 1946
Archie Mayo
7/10
Loucura em Casablanca
Um dos últimos filmes dos irmãos Marx onde, apesar de nada acrescentarem de relevante à sua rotina cinematográfica, também não destoam, construindo uma obra coerente e onde há espaço para, cada um deles, expressar o seu enorme talento humorístico.
A temática do hotel gerido pelos caóticos irmãos é recorrente na sua obra (Os quatro cocos, Um dia nas Corridas (aqui um hotel sanatório), Um Criado ao seu Dispor) e quando não é um hotel é uma companhia de ópera ou de circo, uma universidade ou até um país imaginário chamado Sylvania. O importante é criar o caos, onde a saudável loucura dos irmãos Marx impera, para o inegável prazer do espectador.
Este filme constitui ainda uma simpática paródia ao clássico Casablanca, ao tempo no pico da popularidade.
Um filme que nenhum fan dos irmãos Marx quererá deixar de ver.
Madness in Casablanca
One of the last films by the Marx brothers where, despite adding nothing relevant to their cinematic routine, they also don't clash, building a coherent work and where there is space for each of them to express their enormous humorous talent.
The theme of the hotel managed by the chaotic brothers is recurrent in their work (the four coconuts, a day até the rsces (here a sanatorium hotel), room service) and when it is not a hotel it is an opera or a circus company, a university or even an imaginary country called Sylvania. The important thing is to create chaos, where the healthy madness of the Marx brothers prevails, to the undeniable pleasure of the viewer.
This film is also a nice parody of the classic Casablanca, at the time at the peak of popularity.
A film that no Marx Brothers fan will want to miss.
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