“If it’s one of them evangelists, tell ’em we already know Jesus.”
Chris opened the door, stepped out, checked up and down the street. Nobody he could see going house to house, but he noticed right away the red fliers taped to all the doors on the street. He turned toward his door, and sure enough, a flier flapped in the breeze, taped just under the peephole.
He tore it free, walked back in the house.
“Who was it?” Mama said.
“Nobody there, but found this on the door. There’s one on everybody’s door, too.”
“Well, what’s it say?”
Chris read it to himself first. Oh god…maybe I can throw it out…before she sees it.
Big Time Bingo: Grand Opening Tonight! Huge Prizes!
And below it was the address, along with a twenty dollar bill stapled to the paper.
“Boy, you hear me talking to you?”
“It’s a…it’s…” He walked across the room and handed it to her. “Here.”
She took it, and Chris watched as her eyes widened to the point of popping from her head. Her tongue dampened her lips and she sat up straighter, reading the flier over and over again. “You see this? You see this, baby?”
“Yeah, I seen it.”
“And this money…this money is real. Ain’t no fake print out or nothing. It’s real money.”
And the fucking grand opening is tonight. Great.
Chris knew his Saturday was ruined. His dad would have work, and as usual, Chris would be forced to accompany Mama to the bingo hall. Big Time Bingo. Do we really need a new bingo hall? he thought. And why would they just give away money like that?
“Mama, I’m gonna go meet up with Oscar and Jay, play some ball, all right?”
“Huh? What you say, baby?”
“I’ll be back later.”
“Says here the place opens up at seven. You be back by six, okay? I split all my winnings with you.”
Chris rolled his eyes, hurried to his bedroom where he changed into his basketball shorts and a cut-off-sleeve shirt, pulled on his sneakers and grabbed his Spalding ball. He checked the clock and saw he still had an hour before they were supposed to meet, but he figured he would just shoot around until they got there, blow off some steam.
The absolute last thing in the entire world he wanted to do that night was go to bingo. Just thinking about it boiled his blood, and he could only hope Oscar and Jay would be forced to go too. And Sasha. Though he knew he would never muster the courage to actually speak to her, just seeing her was good enough for him.
He dribbled the ball as he walked down the street toward the park. Almost every door had the same red flier on it, each one with a twenty dollar bill stapled to it, and he figured the ones that didn’t were only bare because the flier was already ripped off. He thought about snatching the money, but decided to leave it alone.
When he got to the park, he was relieved to see Oscar already sitting there, tagging his name to the black basketball pole with a silver marker. He looked up when Chris approached and nodded.
“Please tell me you got the flier too,” Oscar said.
“Yep, looks like everyone did.”
“Your mom’s making you go? My grandma’s all excited and shit.”
“Hell yeah. Bunch a bullshit. Least you’ll be there too.” Chris dribbled between his legs, did a spin move and shot the ball. Swish. “I don’t understand how they can just give out money like that, you know what I’m sayin’?”
“For real. Must be thousands a dollars taped up.” Oscar passed the ball back to Chris. “Bet we could snatch up at least a couple hundred before anybody knew what happened.”
Chris shot the ball again. “Nah, man. Just leave it alone.”
Oscar shrugged. “Yeah, that’s cool.” He passed the ball back to Chris. “Shit, man, you’re getting good, for real. Think you can play for the Lakers someday?”
Another shot, another make. “I don’t know. Maybe. My dad thinks so.”
“I think he’s right. Your shot is sick, fool.”
“Yeah…but fuck the Lakers. I’m gonna play for the Bulls, be the next Jordan. Watch.”
“Man, the Bulls are garbage.”
“Not when I get there they won’t be.”
The boys laughed, took turns shooting the ball. Jay came walking up eventually, sucking on a purple popsicle.
“Y’all hear about—”
“Big Time Bingo? Yeah. You going too?”
“Fuck yeah.” He threw the popsicle stick at the ground and plopped down. “You shoulda seen my mom, man. Jumpin’ up and down like she won the damn lottery. She already called my aunts, and they got fliers and money too. What the fuck is the deal with that? Who just gives away money like that?”
They played a couple of games of 21, Chris winning by a landslide every time, then eventually got bored and took a walk toward the 7-11 to get some Gatorades. All of the boys were coated with sweat, but Jay’s shirt was soaked and he gasped for breath, hands on his hips as they walked.
“You all right, man?” Chris said.
“Damn, fool. You got gravy comin’ out your skin and shit,” Oscar said.
“Fuck you, man.”
Chris noticed that a lot of the people walking in the street held red fliers, and even the businesses had them posted up.
“Looks like everybody’s gonna be at the bingo tonight,” Chris said. “The owner must be a millionaire or something.”
“For real. If I was eighteen, shit, I’d probably play too. I’m good at games like that,” Oscar said.
“You can’t be good at bingo, dumb-ass. It’s all luck,” Jay said as the boys walked into the 7-11. “Besides, when you eighteen, why the fuck would you go to bingo for? My ass’ll be out, in my own place, fucking bitches every night.”
Oscar snickered. “What kinda bitches gonna wanna fuck someone with bigger titties than them?”
Chris chuckled, grabbed a lemon-lime Gatorade from the cooler.
“Least I don’t got no pinkie finger dick like you do.”
“Bitch, I’ll whip it out and choke you with it.”
The boys all laughed now, playfully shoving each other as they made their way to the front. A Middle Eastern man scowled at them as they placed their drinks on the counter, a small radio playing some foreign-sounding music behind him.
“Seven fifty,” he said, a protective arm around the drinks as if he was afraid the boys would snatch and run.
Chris pulled out his three dollars, then Oscar added his, but before Jay could fish his out, a tall man stepped in front of them.
“I’ll get this,” he said, and slapped some crisp-looking bills on the counter. He turned and faced the boys, his smile yellow like he’d been gurgling cheese. “Hello, boys. What’s happening?”
The man was pale, so white Chris could see the veins crisscrossing under his skin. His eye sockets looked like two scooped-out holes in the snow, his eyes like cracked eggs.
“Nothing,” Chris said. “Uh…thanks for the drinks.”
The man handed out the Gatorades, his smile never fading. His fingers were long, thickly knuckled. “Not a problem, boys. Not a problem at all.”
There was an awkward silence as the boys each took their drinks, and just sort of stood there, exchanging glances with one another, the man beaming down at them from atop his lofty stature.
“So…uh…later.” Chris took the lead and headed toward the exit, his friends right behind him.
“Are you boys gonna come see me tonight?”
“W-what?” Chris said, turning and squinting at the man.
“Say, fool, this one of them molester dudes. Like to catch a predator and shit,” Oscar said.
“Relax, boys,” the man said with a laugh, taking a long step toward them. A smell like brown sugar rolled off of
him. “Big Time Bingo. I’m Mr. Big. The owner.” He stuck out his albino bat of a hand, but none of the boys shook it.
“Yeah. And thanks to you our Saturday’s fucked, probably our whole summer,” Jay said. Red Gatorade dripped down his cheek and rode the creases in his neck. “You got any more of that money though? Like a spare twenty or something?”
Mr. Big laughed, straightened his suit coat. “Tell you what. You boys come see me tonight, and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Bet,” Jay said.
Chris had to force himself to turn away from the man again, as if some magnetic pull was holding him there. It wasn’t until they got back outside that he realized how hot it felt inside of the store.
“That motherfucker gives me the creeps,” Oscar said. “For real.”
“That’s the whitest cracker I ever seen,” Jay said. “What you think he meant by that? Coming to see him tonight I mean?”
“I don’t know,” Chris said. “But I don’t like that guy.”
The boys stood in silence for a moment.
“I gotta get back home,” Oscar said. “Gotta take my grandma to get her medicine.”
“Aight, then. I’m gonna head to the crib too, go get something to eat,” Jay said. “See y’all tonight.”
They all clapped hands, patted backs and went their separate ways. Chris took a long chug from his bottle, wiped the cold condensation across his forehead.
The man stood just inside of the store, glaring out through the glass door at Chris. His smile was deep, dark, and Chris hurried to the sidewalk, then jogged until the store was out of sight. A sick feeling washed over his stomach, and the thought of seeing Mr. Big again, going to the bingo hall, injected him with dread.
The parking lot at Big Time Bingo was so full, people were parking their cars along the sidewalk on both sides of the street. Chris’s mama parallel parked about a block away from the hall. “Damn, knew we shoulda come earlier.”
“Mama…do we have to do this? I mean…why can’t we just go to the usual place?” Chris had his eyes in his lap and wiped his sweaty palms over his jeans.
“Come on, baby. Don’t be like that. They gave us free money, least we can do is come check it out, right?” She looked in the rearview mirror, checked her makeup, flicked her bangs a few times.
“Yeah…yeah I guess so.”
“What’s the matter?”
He smacked his lips. “Nothing.”
“All right, then. Let’s get inside so I can grab a good seat, okay?” She reached over and patted his knee. “And remember what I said. I’ll split my winnings with you. Your daddy don’t have to know about it.”
Chris smiled. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, Mama.”
She fished in her purse, pulled out a five, handed it to him. “Get you something to eat. I’m feeling lucky tonight, baby.”
As they walked through the parking lot, Chris spotted Jay trailing behind the stampede of elephants that was his mother and aunts. Jay looked up and locked eyes with Chris, nodded.
“Mama, can I go meet up with Jay?”
“That’s fine. I’ll see you in a little while. Don’t go gettin’ into no trouble, now. That boy a heathen if I’ve ever seen one.”
Chris rolled his eyes. “All right, Mama. See you later.”
He met halfway with Jay and the two of them watched as all the adults swam across the pavement to get to the bingo hall.
“You see him again?” Jay said.
“Who?”
“The tall guy…Mr. Big.”
“No, I just got here. Why?”
“I don’t know, man. It’s like ever since earlier today, I can’t get that motherfucker’s face out my head. His smile, you know what I’m sayin’?”
Chris nodded. “Yeah…yeah, I feel you. Me too.” Goosebumps rose all over and he blinked and shook off the anxiety that twisted his guts into knots. “Look at all these people, man.”
“I know. My mom and aunts were at the damn salon all day, like it’s their prom or some shit. All excited.”
They trudged toward the entrance, moving with the current of eager bodies. The boys leaned against the wall and watched the adults shove one another as they piled in. When Oscar finally arrived, his grandma all done up and clutching his arm, they nodded and approached him.
“Whassup, y’all? Let me get her to her seat, get her set up, aight? Meet y’all at the concession stand?”
“Cool,” Chris said, catching a long frown from the old woman. In her free hand, she held a ceramic Virgin Mary and a purple dauber.
As they entered the hall, Chris attempted to scan the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sasha, but he soon gave up. Way too many faces to try and pick one out. He couldn’t believe how many people had shown up. It looked like everybody in town was there, all grabbing the first seat they could and arranging their good luck trinkets and rubbing their hands together.
“You hungry?” Jay said.
Chris’s stomach rumbled. “Yeah, guess so.” The line at the concession stand was a vast caterpillar of kids, all clutching money and shifting around impatiently. Every adult in the place was seated in the main hall, awaiting their chance at the so-called “huge prizes” the flier promised.
The boys widened their eyes at the length of the line, then shrugged and joined the end of it. When Chris stretched his neck to get another look at the queue, he saw her, looking as gorgeous as ever: her hair in a ponytail, her lips as pink as bubble gum, her T-shirt tightly hugging her slender frame, showing off her budding breasts. Sasha turned, caught him looking at her, and smiled. Chris panicked, pretended like he didn’t see her, like he was just looking at how long the line was, then stepped back beside Jay and out of sight.
“You a big ol’ pussy, you know that?” Jay shook his head and gripped his forehead.
“What the hell’re you talking about?” His skin felt like it was sizzling, like his clothes were made of static.
“Why don’t you just go talk to her? The girl likes you, man. It’s obvious as hell.”
Chris smacked his lips. “Man, just worry about yourself, all right? I can handle mine.”
“Yeah, okay, motherfucker. Whatever you say.”
Oscar strolled over, cut in line to stand by his friends. A few of the other kids glared at him, but when he stared right back, they all remained quiet. “Whassup? Y’all been fightin’ or somethin’?”
“Nah, man. Just tellin’ Chris he needs to go on and holler at Sasha. Don’t know why he’s bullshittin’.”
Oscar craned his neck toward the front of the line. “Shit, you ain’t lyin’. For real. If I was you, Chris, I’d be all up in that.”
Chris felt his anger rising, filling his head with hot air. “Both of y’all assholes need to shut the fuck up and mind your own. Goddamn.”
Oscar flinched, held up his hands. “Chill, fool. Didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”
Jay just shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the far wall.
They stayed in silence for a few minutes, slowly making their way toward the concession stand. Chris watched Sasha walk off with a soda and a corndog, her usual clique in tow.
“Shit, all I know is this food better be off the hook. If we gotta wait any longer, I might starve to death,” Jay said.
Oscar patted the boy’s stomach. “I think you’ll live, fool.”
When they reached the window, a pale face stared out at them. The boy looked sick, his cheeks sunken in, dark circles surrounding his pink-rimmed eyes. He held an uncanny resemblance to Mr. Big, a relative maybe, or the man’s son.
“What can I get you?” the boy said. His voice was robotic, like an automated message. When he spoke, his yellow teeth shone past his crispy-looking lips. The sound of sizzling meat coasted out from behind him, along with the savory smell.
Chris realized he was staring,
caught himself and faked a smile. He ordered a hotdog and a Dr. Pepper, paid for it, then stepped out of the way to escape the boy’s gaze. He caught a quick glimpse of the cooks, standing slumped over the grills and deep fryers, and each one of them looked almost identical to the boy at the window, and the way they moved, the blank looks on their faces, reminded Chris of zombies.
The hotdog glistened with perspiration, the bun brown and toasted. The smell sent his stomach into a frenzy, and though part of him screamed for him to throw it away, to not eat something those sick-looking cooks made, he ate it anyway, unable to control himself. The meat tube burst as his teeth sunk into it, coating his mouth in delicious succulence the likes of which he’d never encountered before. His eyes widened and he finished the hotdog off in another couple of bites, wishing he’d had enough money for another one.
Oscar stepped up with a bag of M&Ms and a Big Red, and Jay soon followed with a tray of steaming chili-cheese nachos and a Pepsi. There were no available tables, so the boys found a blank space on the wall and leaned against it, as usual. Sasha and her friends sat at a circular table just across the room, and Chris had to force his eyes not to dart her direction every other second.
“Y’all shoulda got a hotdog, I’m telling you. That shit was the bomb. Thinking about asking my mama for some more money,” Chris said, the juicy taste still lingering on his tongue.
“Fuck that, these nachos are the shit,” Jay said through a thick mouthful of chili and cheese. He licked his fingertips, then dug right back in for more. “I ain’t bullshittin’, best nachos I ever had. Goddamn.”
Oscar watched Jay with a twisted expression of disgust. “You look like a fuckin’ pig, fool. For real. That shit’s nasty.”
“Nah, man. Try this shit, just trust me.” Jay held up the tray to Oscar who backed away and plugged his nose.
“Get that nasty stuff out my face. These places are dirty, fool. Can’t believe y’all would eat this shit.”
Chris shrugged. “Well, the hotdog was delicious.”
Oscar shook his head, popped a green M&M into his mouth. Still crunching the last chip, Jay lifted the tray to his mouth, tilted his head back and let the brown and yellow goop ooze down his throat.
The Bingo Hall Page 2
