A Trick of the Light

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THE FIRST TIME I REACH MIKE WELLES, HE’S IN A tunnel. It’s hot, syrupy hot, July hot, the kind of heat where your breath going out feels the same as the air going in, or so I imagine. I’ve been trying to talk to Mike but he can’t hear me or can’t listen—the distinction isn’t important. How long has it been—weeks or months, days? Time is a syrupy thing, too, not always so easy to pin down.

Mike is walking with his best friend, Tamio Weissberg, in the long tunnel beneath the expressway. There’s pigeon crap pretty much everywhere, which has earned this place a nickname: the stinky tunnel. They just saw King Kong, the original 1933 version, at You Must Remember This, a neighborhood place that shows only the classics. This is far from the first time Mike and Tamio have seen King Kong, which they hail as the masterpiece of something called stop-motion animation. But it’s their first time seeing it in a movie theater and, needless to say, they were the only ones in the audience without gray hair.

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