Chapter 2
When Elizabeth and I were married there was another show in Stoneville. It wasn’t much of a house—five hundred chairs, and a couple of Powers projectors that should have been in a museum, and a wildcat sound system.
But it was a show and it pulled a lot of business from us, particularly on Friday and Saturday, the horse-opera nights. Not only that, it almost doubled the price of the product we bought.
In a town of seventy-five hundred people, you hadn’t ought to pay more than thirty or thirty-five bucks for the best feature out. And you don’t have to if you’ve got the only house. Where there’s more than one, well, brother, there’s a situation the boys on film row love.
If you don’t want to buy from them, they’ll just take their product across the street. And the guy across the street will snap it up in the hopes of freezing you out and buying at his own price the next year.
The fellow that owned the other house was named Bower. He’s not around any more; don’t know what ever did become of him. About the time his lease came up for renewal, I went to his landlord and offered to take over, paying all operating expenses and giving him