The Beast

The Beast
Christopher Bogart

Children streamed in from all directions
and stand under the bulb-lit marquee,
waiting to see the Beast.

His father led him by the hand,
parting the juvenile multitudes
like Moses parting the waves,
into the cool darkness of the theatre.
With not a word spoken, his father bobbed and weaved,
Navigating kids running up and down the aisle
to find two seats in the middle of the squealing mob.

They sat in silence, amid youthful cacophony,
on this one day that would be etched
forever in the little boy’s memory,
the day his father had taken him out,
just he and he alone,
for his first father-son outing
to see a movie that was sure to inspire
terror in a little lad’s heart,
The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms.

The theatre darkened slowly.
The crowd quieted down,
as the Beast rose from the waters of New York Harbor
on his prehistoric mission
to terrorize the citizens of the 1950’s.
To the leitmotif of childhood terror,
the Beast lumbered between the skyscrapers of downtown Manhattan,
smashing cars and fleeing tourists
wherever he trod.

The mayhem continued,
scored by squeals and cries, until,
at the end of the movie,
it became apparent
that the Beast had to die.
The deed would be done at the Coney Island Amusement Park,
and; as the soldiers rode up to the top tracks of the roller coaster
and shoot the radioactive injection into the Beast’s throat,
the Beast flailed and cried out to the dark of the night,
crying to the heavens for a reason
for the crime.

As he bobbed and weaved
and finally fell, a cheer spontaneously rose
from the thrilled young crowd.
The father turned to his son,
with anticipation of similar jubilation,
to find only tears.

In the same silence
that hung over their arrival,
they walked home alone,
each with his own thought,
the father lost in curiosity at his son’s strange reaction,
and the boy in the surety that
this unique outing between father and son,
would never come again.