Rayne & Delilah's Midnite Matinee(33)

???

Jack Divine’s website looks super homemade. I don’t love that, but hey, our website is a free homemade WordPress site, so we can’t talk. Plus, there are all sorts of stories about people in showbiz who hate technology. I read somewhere that Jack White doesn’t have a cell phone. It’s fine. It probably would have intimidated me if Jack Divine’s website was too good. I like that he’s okay with unpolished things. I poke around until I find a contact email address.

Dear Mr. Divine: I have to breathe through a jolt of adrenaline that feels like leaning up against a hot car. I start typing again after it subsides.

My name is Delia Wilkes. My friend Josie Howard and I host a show called Midnite Matinee on TV Six, the public access station in Jackson, Tennessee. We show old horror and sci-fi movies like you did when you were doing Jack-O-Lantern’s Fright-Day Night Revue. We’re already syndicated in seven other markets, and we haven’t even been on the air for two years.

We’re huge fans of yours. I grew up watching your show with my dad. Josie and I are going to be at ShiverCon next month, and we were hoping we could meet you.

This is stupid. You’re nobodies, says the cartoon devil Delia that appears on my shoulder. This is how you make the show good enough that Josie won’t leave, says the cartoon angel Delia that appears on my other shoulder. This is how you keep the best thing in your life going and make it better. This is how you don’t get left behind.

We’d maybe like to talk to you about possibly working together.

I delete the line. I try again.

We’d like to talk to you about working together.

It feels so presumptuous. But I don’t want to sound too tentative either. I start to delete it but change my mind, mainly because I have nothing better to replace it with. This sucks.

Here are a couple of links to YouTube videos showing clips of our show. We know we have room to improve, but we feel that we need someone with the experience to help take the show to the next level and reach more markets.

The clips aren’t my favorite and each only has about 350 views, but I don’t know how to capture better clips from the show. At least these are convenient.

If you’re interested in seeing more, please send me an address and I can send you a DVD with a couple of episodes of the show.

Sincerely, Delia Wilkes (aka Delilah Darkwood) I hold my breath for a beat or two before letting it out in a rush and hitting send. Don’t get your hopes up, I tell myself. Nobody with a website that janky checks email very often. It feels very strange to be sending a message to someone I used to watch on TV with Dad. Sorry, I mean Derek Armstrong.

Me, to Josie: Ok, I emailed Jack Divine. Fingers crossed.

Josie: Cool. What did you say?

Me: We were big fans and wanted to meet him at ShiverCon. Sent him a couple of YouTube clips. Asked if we could send him a DVD with episodes.

Josie: Nice. Sounds like you weren’t too weird.

Me: Nope. Now you gotta ask your parents about ShiverCon.

Josie: I will. What if Divine says no?

Well, Josie, if he says no, I still need to go and track down one Derek Armstrong, so…

Me: I think we should still go. Maybe someone else there can help us.

Josie: If we don’t know if he’s going to help us, I’d rather visit my aunt.

Me: But I really wanna go and I can’t afford to if you don’t drive. I don’t have money for a plane ticket or whatever.

Josie: DeeeeeeeeDeeeeeeeee.

Me: If you want a career in TV we gotta start doing stuff like this.

Josie: I mean, let’s feel out the vibe.

Me: I never know exactly what it means when you say that.

Josie: It means there’s maybe a vibe, and we’re going to feel it out.

Me: Ok it seems like you’re literally just saying words when you say that.

Josie: It’s hard to define.

Me: I noticed. BTW Jack Divine’s website is hilariously low rent.

Josie: Uh-oh.

Me: I think it’s fine? It kinda makes him seem more legit in a weird way?

Josie: If you say so. K, I gotta go eat. Love you, DeeDeeBooBoo.

Me: Ask about ShiverCon. Love you, JoJoBee.

???

I turn on the TV and idly drift until I land on a half-finished showing of Jason X on the Syfy channel. I’ve seen it a couple of times, but I can’t resist. It’s like Alien, if Alien were written on an Arby’s napkin in a Camaro doing donuts in a parking lot.

I have a gray uncentered feeling of unease. Like when you know you’ve forgotten something important, but you can’t remember what it was. And you try to tell yourself that it must not have been that important if you forgot it, but you can’t quite persuade yourself. I keep checking my phone, as though Jack Divine is going to answer an email from a random high school girl on a Friday night—or at all.

And then my brain makes a connection. Emailing Jack Divine reminded me of my dad. And if I’m brave enough to randomly email Jack Divine, then I’m brave enough to randomly email my dad. Maybe.

Dear Dad, I didn’t know whether I should call you Dad or Derek Armstrong the first time I tried to email you. Of course, I never had to decide because I chickened out and didn’t send it. This time I’m calling you Dad whether you like it or not. You’re still my dad, no matter how much you don’t want to be anymore.

In my first email, I told you about the stuff that’s going on in my life, but I’m not sure I feel like telling you all that yet. I don’t want the good stuff in my life to make you feel any less guilt (if you even feel any) for leaving. Instead, I’m going to tell you about my first birthday after you left.