Part 2: Chapter 42
A winter storm blankets the Pittsburgh area. In Darnell’s garage (which has been closed down by order of the Pennsylvania State Police), Christine’s engine roars to life. Her stick shift drops into drive, and she begins to motorvate.
First stop: Don Vandenberg, one of Buddy Repperton’s gang, is working the late shift at his father’s gas station. A car stops at the pumps furthest from the station’s office. Don tramps across the lot, blinded by the wind and snow. He steps up to the car’s driver side window and freezes. The corpse of Roland D. LeBay tells him to fill ‘er up. From the back seat, Buddy Repperton leans forward and offer’s Don a swig of Texas Driver. Don screams and runs for his life… which isn’t very long.
Second stop: Will Darnell sits at home watching A Christmas Carol (the Alastair Sim version, natch). A series of blasts from a car horn bring Darnell to his front window. Christine seems to be talking to him. As Christine crashes through the snow embankment at the mouth of his driveway, Darnell tries to call Arnie to tell him to call off his dog. Nobody’s home at the Cunningham’s. Darnell attempts to call the police, but his call is cut short when Christine burst through his front window. Trying to get to the attic of his house, Darnell has a heart attack. Christine pounces.
Last stop: Darnell’s Do-It-Yourself Garage. Christine returns to her burrow to rest. It’s been a long and busy night…
Winters in Pittsburgh are usually mild. Sure, we get a major snowfall once a season, but it’s par for the course. The roads get icy, schools either delay their openings or close altogether for the day, and you stay in and watch the soaps in the afternoon. No biggie.
The storm that covers Libertyville in snow feels a little different, a little more ferocious. It sort of reminds me of the Blizzard of…
…no… lemme finish… the Blizzard of 1993.
Saturday, 13 March 1993, is a day many Pittsburghers won’t soon forget. Nearly twenty-four inches of snow fell on the city in a single day. All major roads — the Pennsylvania Turnpike and interstate highways were closed. People were urged to stay safe and stay home.
Me? I drove to work.
At that time, I was living on Mt. Washington. I did not have a phone. (What a time!) I worked at a restaurant in Robinson Township, which is on the way to the Pittsburgh Airport. With no way for me to learn that the restaurant was closed, I drove (slowly) through the maelstrom to work. When I arrived, the parking lot was empty save for several tons of untouched snow. I turned around and drove to a local Eat’n Park for dinner. As soon as my meal was served, a PA State trooper came in and announced that they were about to close I-376. I wolfed down my fish sandwich and got back into my car.
By the time I got to Mt. Washington, it was impossible to make it up the steep roads back to my apartment. (I think if I were riding in Christine, we would have made it home, no problem.) So, I carried on through the Liberty Tunnels and headed to a friend’s apartment in Shadyside. I had to force my car into a snowdrift on a side street. (And hope to God there wasn’t a car already there buried beneath the snow.) I walked through thigh-high snow banks and knocked at my friend’s door. We watched the shitshow on TV and watched people cross-country ski down Fifth Avenue from her front windows. It was a helluva good time!
Say what you want about pornography (now how’s that for a segue?!), but at least Don Vandenberg is reading, amirite?
Crazily enough, this isn’t the last time we will take a look at paperback sex books in Christine (specifically) and in King’s other work (generally). Believe it or not, I have more to say on the subject in a later post.
After disposing of Don Vandenberg like a used tissue (pun intended, I am sorry to say), Christine goes cruising through the unplowed streets of Libertyville. Her pleasure cruise begins with these words from our faithful Third-Person Narrator: “Like Gaul, all of Libertyville Heights was divided into three parts (363).
Say what now?
Commentarii de Bello Gallico (or, if aren’t up on your Classical Latin, Commentaries on the Gallic War) was written by Julius Caesar as a defense of his conquest of Gaul. Threatened with prosecution for the abuse of his authority, Caesar knew he faced the stripping of his wealth and citizenship (amongst other indignities) upon his return from the West. In order to defend himself, he knew he needed the people on his side. (The dumb, stupid, easily led by the nose people.) So, he wrote his Commentaries (in 3rd person, mind you) to show that his efforts in Gaul were totally necessary and for the further glory of Rome. His “objective” account of his time in Gaul portrayed him as a military hero and great leader. Think of it as the YouTube video of the Roman Empire.
Caesar’s Commentaries have long been a favorite of Latin classes because of their straightforward, simple prose. It begins with the frequently quoted phrase “Gallia est omnis divisa in partes tres,” meaning “Gaul is a whole divided into three parts.”
Now, what Julius Caesar is doing in Libertyville is beyond me, but I don’t fault ol’ Stevie for having a bit of fun. Lord knows I’ve dropped all sorts of literary references and song lyrics in my own writing — everything from “Subdivisions” by Rush to James Joyce’s Ulysses. I say just roll with it. I mean, at least it isn’t another reference to the Phillies, amirite?
I like that A Christmas Carol is an invisible thread connecting Arnie and Darnell. I’d like to think that Leigh and Dennis have it on in the background, too, but King doesn’t say.
It’s fitting that the most famous Christmas Ghost Story of all-time is playing as “The Ghost of Christmas Past” comes a-calling at Darnell’s house. Sadly for Darnell, I think that singing Christmas carols at his front door is the last thing Christine wants to do. Playing “The Carol of the Bells” on his head seems more of what she has in mind.
Even though we’re only dealing with a single chapter today, I think we still need to call it a night and pull over. The snow is coming down steadily and the roads are getting pretty dicey. Before we get to the motor lodge, however, I want to bring up one last reference that King makes.
I know what you are thinking: jeez, the attack on Darnell in his home has the same quality as the shark’s attack on Quint in Steven Spielberg’s Jaws (1975). Hey, why not? Jaws was a MASSIVE blockbuster hit. If King is gonna borrow from Caesar, why wouldn’t he borrow from Spielberg, as well?
Me? I’d like to think that King had another “When Animals Attack” movie on his mind during this scene. Released two years after Jaws, Orca (1977, Michael Anderson) is pure Grade-A Italian cheese from the great Dino De Laurentiis.
After watching Jaws in 1975, de Laurentiis called his writer buddy Luciano Vincenzoni in the middle of the night and told him to “find a fish tougher and more terrible than the great white.” Not knowing a darn thing about sea life, Vincenzoni’s brother Adriano (who dabbled in zoology) told him about killer whales, and a classic was born.
One of my favorite horror sub-genres is the “Jaws Rip-Off” movie. You got your classics like Orca and Barracuda (1978) and Piranha (1978). But the rip-off doesn’t stop at the water’s edge. Don’t like the ocean? Well, guess what? Filmmakers can take the basic structure of Jaws and apply it to any animal. Do you like spiders? How’s about Kingdom of the Spiders (1977)? Do you like bears? Here’s Grizzly (1976). Hell, we don’t even need a real animal. Do you dig Sasquatch? Have a Snowbeast (1977). How about a mutant-bear-thing that looks like it’s been turned inside-out? We got you covered with Prophecy (1979). They all essentially follow the Jaws story, and quite a few of them feature people in power assuring everyone that they will not close the beaches… or the ski slopes… or the lazy river… or the county fair… or…
Well, you get the idea.
Glad we finally made it to the motel. Man, I just want to crawl up on the couch with a hot toddy and watch the Penguins hockey game. While I’m relaxing and screaming at the TV, you need to read Part 3: Chapter 43. We are leaving the third-person narration behind and going back to the cozy, first-person environs of our old friend Dennis.
He’s out of the hospital now, Blog-o-weeners, though he’s still motorvating on a pair of crutches. Leigh pays him a visit at home while his parents are out. I wonder what they are going to talk about while sitting, oh, so close to one another on the couch? You don’t think Dennis would… nah… he wouldn’t do that, would he? Dennis and Leigh are about to learn a thing or two about Christine and Arnie, but I think it’s we the readers that are gonna learn a little lesson about what not to do with your best friend’s girl. Read closely, Blog-o-weeners, and pay close attention to Dennis’s actions, because…
No comments:
Post a Comment
What do you think? Let me know!