The helpless captive

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Neon lights oranged the sky as the town's avid move-goers queued up in zig-zagged lines anxious for the late afternoon matinee to spill out of Elston's sole movie, which only last year had been converted from a 1940's dance hall.

Auburn-haired Kathy McGuire gave her husband's hefty paw an extra squeeze and leaned her head forward to peek at the promotion poster that advertised this week's movie, the only local entertainment around except for George Mason's bango trio that played twice a week in the basement of the country club. The post depicted a teenage couple seated on a Harley Davidson; the boy's high booted heels dug into the ground to support the massive weight of the machine while a girl with long blonde hair clasped her hands around the boy's stomach, letting her hands drift down to the vee of his pants. The square-jawed youth was turning to hand the girl a poorly-rolled brown cigarette.

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