Every Wednesday through Saturday evening the Star drive-in showed movies which Phillip and I watched from the ditch bank. Although we could see everything clearly we couldn’t hear a word being said. One Wednesday night the drive-in was playing a cowboy movie and it looked like a good one. We were tired of watching without sound so Phillip decided to do something about it. I followed him as he went along the ditch bank looking for an opening in the theatre's back fence which had No Trespassing signs posted all along it. We ignored the signs, which I couldn't read anyway, and crawled under. Only two or three cars were parked that far back and inside each one was a teenage couple too involved with each other to notice us. At an unused parking space Phillip turned on one of the speakers and as soon as he did the movie came alive. We sat happily on the ground finally able to listen and watch at the same time.
Sitting at the very back of the drive-in the growing darkness it seemed impossible we could be spotted but we were. A beam of light moved toward us from the concession stand building. The projectionist had seen us from the second story window. and was moving toward us fast.
“Hey, you!” he yelled pointing the flashlight in our direction.
Phillip grabbed my hand and we took off running. The drive-in was filling with parked cars. We dashed behind one and crawled under. The man ran up to the car and flashed his light on the steamed window. A startled couple stared back at him.
“Did you see those boys?” he panted.
“What? Who? Get outta here!”
A pair of huge work boots were too close for comfort. We backed out and crouched by the side of the car next to the rear wheel just as the man bent down and waved his flashlight back and forth. From the passenger side mirror the driver could see us hiding but didn't give us away. After getting angry responses at one car after another the dejected projectionist left without locating a single trespasser.
Phillip was ready to try our luck again, determined as usual to do what he wanted. Seeing that all the car spaces had filled up he explained that we could either go back home or sit in the plastic seats in front of the concession stand.
“That guy won’t see us if we sit right below him,” he whispered.
"You're crazy! That's how he'll catch us!" I whispered back. Sitting in front of a charging bull seemed like a bad idea to me.
"No, he'll think we're from a car. Kids sit in front of the popcorn stand all the time. Follow me."
As usual, his two votes to my one decided what we would do. We moved stealthily from one car to the next making our way toward the front of the drive-in. A couple left their car to get drinks and popcorn. We fell in behind them and without their realizing it we walked to the concession stand together, a family of four. Finally Phillip and I reached the front and pulled ourselves onto the seats. It was a relief because we'd grown tired and dusty trying to enjoy the movie. With the loudspeaker directly above us we could hear everything perfectly but since it was getting late Phillip decided during the intermission that we needed to go home. We made it to the back of the lot and crawled under the fence, then froze-someone or something was moving around in the dark nearby.
“What’s that?” Phillip whispered loudly.
“Shhh!” I said, wanting to hear more before we climbed onto the ditch bank. Dad was always warning that the bogey man might get us if we stayed out late at night. As quietly as possible we crawled onto the ditch bank. Flashes of light swung back and forth over the water.
First we heard angry muttering, "Fregaditos!" then yelling, "Felipe, Feliiipe! Leeee!"
It was Dad. He was walking up and down the ditch calling for us. He’d stop and try to hear over the sounds of running water, frogs and crickets which wasn’t easy.
Phillip moved directly behind him. “Dad!” he shouted
Dad jumped a mile and dropped his flashlight. “Aghhh! What the hell!” he exclaimed angrily. “Where've you been!"
Phillip shrugged. “Just watching the movie,” he said.
“From here,” I added. I knew Mom and Dad would be really upset if they found out we sneaked into the Star.
Dad looked upset. He wiped perspiration off his face with his sleeve. “Don’t you know how late it is?" His voice was up an octave or two. "Your mama and I thought you fell in the ditch. Come on, let’s go.”
Mom looked so relieved when we walked in that I felt guilty. “Where did you find them?” she asked.
“On the big ditch watching the movie.”
So we wouldn’t cause our parents any more anxiety Dad decreed we had to be home by 8:00 at night.
“How do we know when it’s eight?” Phillip asked. He liked to have things spelled out, so Dad did.
“When it gets dark, come in the house,” he replied irritably.
There were new movies at the drive-in every Thursday so when Dad got home from work the next day Phillip asked him for a dime.
“What do you need a dime for?” Dad wanted to know.
“I’m saving to buy a baseball at the second hand store,” Phillip replied. It was an acceptable answer because there was a shop at the beginning of the block called the Second Street Second Hand Store, owned by a tobacco spitting Okie selling everything from baseball bats and balls to bicycles and furniture, all of it used. Our parents couldn't afford to buy us new play stuff except during Christmas or birthdays so my brother’s request for a dime made sense to them. But from previous Phillip experiences Dad was certain there was more to this than met the eye and of course, there was. Phillip had a secret plan which would allow us to fully enjoy something forbidden by both common sense and our parents.
“Dad, can we stay out a little later tonight so we can see most of the movie?” Phil asked, changing the subject.
Dad looked at Phillip with one eyebrow raised. “As long as I know where you are,” he said finally. He knew Phillip was very adventurous but I wasn’t, so if we were both on the ditch bank together it should be okay.
“It's a deal, Dad." Phillip gave him a brisk handshake. “Now where’s my dime?” he said and stuck out his hand.
Keeping an eye fixed on Phillip, Dad put his hand in a pocket and dug one out.
That night Phillip and I returned to the drive-in via our back fence entrance. We made our way to the seats in front of the concession stand and with the dime we bought a bag of buttered popcorn and a soda. From the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of the projectionist. He was leaning against the concession stand doorway a few feet away. With a sweeping glance he scrutinized the entire drive-in looking for trespassers like us. He looked satisfied there weren’t any until his eyes fell on Phillip and me. We had taken seats next to a family so I felt pretty sure we looked like legitimate movie goers but still the projectionist gave us a long, hard stare before going upstairs.
The movie was about a dog and his owner, an English soldier captured by the Nazis in Germany. The soldier managed to escape the prison camp but the dog was not so lucky. The Nazis used the poor pooch to find the man who had to run through barns and forest always hiding, hiding, hiding. I began to feel paranoid watching the movie, worrying Phil and I would be found out, captured and thrown into a Nazi prison camp.
Friday afternoon Dad came home from work and announced he was taking the family to the movies next door. Right after dinner we piled into the car and took off down the block. Two quick right turns brought us into the drive-in. Dad drove to a space in the third row. Phillip and I jumped out and ran over to the playground below the screen. We played on the swings and the merry go round with the other kids. When the previews started we ran back to the car so we wouldn’t miss the cartoons which always came next.
“Hey Dad,” Phillip asked. “Can Lee and I sit by the popcorn stand up front?”
Mom rolled down the window and squinted into the dark. “Do they have seats there?” she asked.
“Yeah, I can see them from here,” Phillip answered.
We headed toward our favorite seats and happily sat there watching cartoons. When the main feature got underway the projectionist walked downstairs and took up his usual spot in the doorway. He looked around, saw us and scowled. Gulp. I nudged Phillip.
“Whaat?” he asked irritably.
“It’s that big guy,” I whispered. “He’s coming over here.”
“Let him.”
The projectionist parked himself in front of us with his hands on his hips. He towered over us. “Say, weren't you here last night?” Phillip gave a non-committal shrug, not bothering to look up.
“How'd you get in here?” he demanded.
“My mom and dad brought us.” Phillip sounded annoyed that his cartoon watching was being interrupted. I sat fearfully waiting for what came next, possibly prison camp for the rest of my life.
The projectionist folded his big arms and laughed sarcastically. “Sure they did.”
“They’re over there,” I said, pointing to our car.
“Yeah, sure.”
Just then Dad walked up to the concession stand. I ran over to him.
“Dad," I said loudly. "Can we have popcorn?” I turned around to look at Phillip. He had his arms folded, staring down the projectionist.
"See?" he told him.
That evening the big guy left us alone but Phillip decided we should lay low for a while. Eventually the drive-in hired a guard who patrolled the entire lot. There were just too many kids from the neighborhood coming under the fence. The company started charging ten cents a piece for walk-ins. Since we didn't have any money that was the end of our movie going.