More nods, accompanied by smacking lips and moans. The kids looked like hogs at a trough, and just watching them made Oscar want to puke, so he moved away, left them to it. He shot a quick glance at the kid working the concession stand, and the pale boy had his eyes pinned to Oscar, a yellow smile like butter spread over the white bread of his face. The queue never diminished; as soon as one of the kids finished their food, they got right back up and stood back in line.
“B 2!” Mr. Big said into the microphone. His pink eyes swept the crowd as the people daubed their cards, all concentration.
Chris’s mom sat toward the front, looking as pretty as ever. Her hair was curled, her makeup done with precision. Her tongue looked like a wad of bubble gum as she clamped her teeth over it and studied her bingo cards.
The display screen projected over Mr. Big’s head showed the white ball with the red B 2 boldly printed on it. As the tall man leaned over and plucked that ball away, Oscar took notice of his appearance for the first time. He looked…healthier, fuller. His face seemed to have more color to it.
Just a trick of the light, that’s all.
A new ball rattled into view, and Mr. Big stroked his chin and licked the front of his teeth as he bent toward the microphone. “O 70!”
“Bingo! Bingo, bingo, bingo!”
It was Chris’s mom, dancing in a circle and slicing the air with her bingo card like a giant white razor blade. Oscar expected more winners, just like the previous two rounds, just like the night before, but nobody else stood up. And every pair of eyes was on Chris’s mom, not a sound in the whole place but her squeals of joy.
“Congratulations, ma’am,” Mr. Big said. “Our grand prize winner…two nights in a row?” He stood and beamed at her, pointed a long finger at her like an albino rifle barrel. “You’re going to put me out of business, ma’am. Come on up here and claim your prize. A whopping five thousand dollars!”
“Oh my god, oh my lord!” She pranced up to the stage, kissed Mr. Big’s hands as he handed her the pregnant envelope.
“Let’s give a big round of applause for tonight’s big winner, yes?”
But nobody did, not a single person. Even the other winners stared the woman down with hellfire in their eyes. And Mr. Big seemed pleased with that, his pupils dancing over the players of his game. A gruff giggle rattled into the microphone and hung in the air like a swarm of flies.
“For those of you that didn’t win tonight, don’t fret. Plenty of opportunities to be a big winner here at Big Time Bingo. I’ll see you all tomorrow…and the next night and the next. Don’t miss out on your chance to win! We have such big prizes to give!” Mr. Big bowed.
There were shouts and curses flying through the air as everyone stood from their table, kicking over chairs and smashing their good luck charms to the ground, grinding them down with the heels of their shoes. Others started arguing with each other, and in the far corner, a fight broke out between two women.
A segmented metal shutter was slammed shut over the concession window, and the kids moaned and cursed, started arguing with each other as bad as the adults. Oscar rushed through the crowd, leaving Jay behind who sucked the cheese from his fingers, and searched for his grandma.
“Grandma!” His voice was eaten alive by the shouts of the others, but as he shoved his way through, he found the old woman, still seated, weeping into her withered hands. The Virgin Mary lay in pieces on the floor, and at first Oscar thought she was upset about her statue.
“No es justo…” she muttered. It wasn’t until Oscar was right beside her that he saw she was still staring at her losing bingo cards. An arthritic finger traced the cards, one by one, as if she couldn’t believe she didn’t win. “No es justo.”
“Grandma, let’s go home. We need to get out of here. We—” He had his hand on her bony shoulder, but she shrugged it off, swung at him and connected with a loud slap that rang his ears and stung his cheek.
“No me toques!” She shoved her bingo cards from the table. “Joder! Hijo de puta!”
“Grandma…it’s okay. We’ll come back another time, just chill out.”
She ignored him, winced as she rose from her chair, her bones popping. She shot Oscar a piercing stare when he moved to help her. Oscar backed away, followed the decrepit woman out of the bingo hall, which was now almost empty except for the stragglers that, like Grandma, couldn’t believe they had lost. From the parking lot, he could hear more shouts, more cursing, tires peeling out.
As they reached the door, and as Grandma spat on the floor, then waddled out into the night, Oscar turned, was compelled to look behind him somehow. And Mr. Big, still on stage and surrounded by his pale concession workers, stared right at him. The man’s smile, that piss-colored rictus that never seemed to leave his face, filled Oscar’s stomach with a dread so thick he nearly gagged. The man lifted his long, white hand and wiggled his fingers in a flamboyant goodbye. Oscar hurried his pace to get outside.
Jay opened the refrigerator and rummaged through it as his aunt yelled and stomped her feet from the living room. But he didn’t care about that. All he could think about was eating. The concession stand had closed before he was satisfied, and as he perused the food stuffed in the fridge at his home, a hot rage filled his chest and stomach. Garbage, all of it. Not a single shred of edible food in the whole fucking cooler.
“Well fuck y’all!” his aunt screamed. “We family, and y’all can’t even share your winnings?”
“Bitch, this my money. You ain’t do shit to earn it, why the fuck I’mma give you a goddamn thing?” Jay’s mom’s voice was as deep as a grizzly bear with a chest cold. “Now get yo’ fat ass out my house ’fore I beat it down.”
Jay moved to the cupboards, tossing boxes and bags over his shoulders as he hunted for something to calm his cravings. But all he wanted was another hotdog, another bucket of chili-cheese to drown away his hunger pangs. He slammed the cupboard doors over and over, ripping a few of them off and breaking them apart on the kitchen floor. “Fuck! Motherfucker!” The women in the living room were too busy to notice his tantrum.
“You heard me, bitch. Get the fuck out my house!”
“Fuck you!”
“You just mad ’cuz you ain’t win shit,” Jay’s other aunt said. “Ain’t my fault you ain’t lucky tonight. But I tell you this, you sho ain’t gettin’ none of my motherfuckin’ winnings.”
“Y’all are fucked up, you know that? If I woulda won…I woulda hooked y’all up. But nah, y’all hoes wanna be greedy. Y’all wanna leave me out? Bet, I got you. I got both yo’ asses.”
There was a parade of stomping, then the slam of a door. Jay’s mom and his remaining aunt continued to talk shit about the woman as her car tires peeled out in the street. As Jay turned to the food closet, still searching for something, anything, that looked appetizing, he thought he heard more arguments coming from outside, from the other houses on their street.
His mouth salivated as he imagined going back to the bingo hall tomorrow night, ordering so much food, he’d never run out again.
Chris was startled into consciousness by the shouts of Mama as she came screaming into the house. At first, Chris thought something was wrong, and he jumped out of bed, still only in his boxer shorts, and flew into the living room.
But she was alone, lying on her back and kicking her legs like an overturned beetle. Hundreds, fifties and twenties lay all around her, and she swam in the green paper and giggled like a crazy woman.
“Mama, what…what’s going on?” When he had gotten home after spending another couple of hours wasting time at the mall, nobody was there. He had hoped his dad would be there, hoped he could tell him about his date, get some advice of what to do next, but the man was gone, so he had climbed into bed and watched TV until falling asleep.
She sat up, fists bursting with bills. “Five…thousand…dollars. You hear me?” She jumped to he
r feet, tossed the money into the air and let it flutter around her. “I said five thousand dollars!”
It was then Chris noticed the bruise on her eye, the scratches and scrapes on her forehead and chin. “Mama…what happened to your face?”
She looked confused, then laughed and waved it off. “Oh, just some jealous losers didn’t know how to take losin’, that’s all. I can handle myself, don’t you worry none.”
“Who, who hit you?”
“Did you not hear what I said, boy? I handled it. Ain’t nothin’ to be worryin’ about, now shut up and celebrate with me, will you?” She reached down and grabbed another handful of money, flung at Chris’s face.
He didn’t want to spoil his mama’s good time, and though he wanted to murder whomever it was that hurt her like that, he just dropped it, smiled at her. “Can’t believe you won again. Five thousand dollars, Mama?”
“Mmm hmm, what you think of me now?” She rushed at him, wrapped hard arms around him and squeezed. “We gonna make it, baby. We gonna be just fine thanks to the bingo hall. And when I go back tomorrow, I’m gonna win again. I’m gonna keep winnin’ until that man ain’t got no more money to give, you hear me?”
“Tomorrow?”
“Go on and take another couple a hundred, baby. Take your little girlfriend on another date, someplace nice. Girls like nice places, you know.” She bent down and started gathering the scattered bills.
Chris was just about to object, to tell her she had no business going back to Big Time Bingo again. But he couldn’t argue; she was winning. He instead found himself scooping up three one hundred dollar bills and clutching them tightly in his fist.
“And I gotta get up early and make sure I find something nice to wear. Gotta look my best. And we’ll get you somethin’ nice too, baby.”
Chris helped Mama gather the money, kissed her and went back to bed. But his lids refused to stay sealed as his mother’s gleeful giggles penetrated the walls.
The next morning, Chris flung his sheets away in frustration. He didn’t think he’d slept any more than a couple of hours, and his eyes burned as he rubbed the heels of his palms against them. The fogginess in his head was thick, and he tried to shake it off as he got dressed and headed straight for the cordless in the kitchen.
He dialed Oscar’s number, and it rang six times, but just as Chris was about to hang up, it was answered.
“Que chingados quieres!”
Chris didn’t know what the woman just said, but he could tell it wasn’t “hello”. He didn’t know what to say, and he was relieved to hear Oscar’s voice in the background.
“Grandma, what’s wrong with you? Who is it?”
“El pinche negro.”
There was a rustling sound, a few grunts, then: “Hello?”
“Hey, man. It’s Chris. Your grandma all right?”
Oscar sighed. “I don’t know, fool. She been actin’ all crazy since last night. She didn’t win, not like your mom did.”
“Shit, I’m startin’ to think I wish my mama lost too. She’s already talkin’ about goin’ back to the fuckin’ bingo hall tonight.”
There was a moment of silence, though Chris could hear Oscar breathing. “Nah, you should be glad she won. I ain’t never seen Grandma act like this…not even when Grandpa died. Shit’s weird, man, for real.”
“How was it last night?”
“Fucked up, that’s what. Shoulda seen everybody. Everybody that lost was pissed the fuck off, cussin’ and fightin’ with each other. And Jay, fool. I’ve been thinkin’ about it…I think they puttin’ something in that food. I ain’t never seen Jay eat like that. And your girl too.”
“Sasha?”
“Yep. That girl was mad hungry. Shit was crazy.”
“My mama came home with bruises on her face. Said people was jealous ’cuz she won.”
“Don’t doubt it. If you woulda seen these motherfuckers last night, you’d understand. You gonna go with your mom tonight?”
Chris squeezed the phone until he thought it would shatter. “Guess I have to. Make sure she stays safe. I’d try and make her stay home, but I already know she ain’t gonna listen.”
“Shit, I feel you. Grandma won’t stop talkin’ about it. Thinks since she didn’t win last night that there’s no way she’s losing two nights in a row.” Another long pause. “What you thinks goin’ on, Chris? I mean…we been goin’ to bingo a long time, you know? Ain’t never been like this. What’s the deal?”
“Don’t know, but I was thinkin’ the same shit. That motherfucker…Mr. Big…somethin’ ain’t right with him.”
“For real…”
“You talk to Jay today?”
“Nah. If you woulda seen him last night, you wouldn’t wanna talk to him either.”
“I think maybe we should check on him, you know what I’m sayin’? Just make sure he’s all right.”
“Yeah, cool. Meet at the park?”
“Cool.”
Jay’s mom opened the door after a few knocks, her eyes red and surrounded with dark flesh. She sucked on her teeth and furrowed her brow at the boys as they looked up at her. Her cut-off shirt revealed her bulging belly, lightning-shaped stretch marks crackling across the skin.
“Whatch y’all want?”
“Jay here?” Chris said, his eyes averting to the woman’s manicured toes.
“He in the bathroom,” she said, then squinted at Chris. “’Less you here to share some of yo’ mama’s winnin’s with us, you really ain’t got no business comin’ round here.”
Oscar stepped forward. “We just wanted to talk to Jay, that’s all.”
“Was I talkin’ to yo’ wetback ass?” Her head moved from left to right as she spoke and leaned forward. “Didn’t think so. Shit. We busy, ain’t got time to be talkin’ to y’all.”
Jay walked up from behind her, shirtless and covered in sweat. His stomach inflated and deflated and he grimaced, as if in pain, and he moved his mother aside. “Chill out, Mom, shit. These my friends.”
She glared at him from behind, hands on her hips. “Well I ain’t got no fuckin’ time to be messin’ around with no kids. I gots to get ready.” And she wandered down the hall and out of sight, her curse words loud and clear.
Jay stepped out of the house, let the screen door slam behind him. He kept wincing, but Chris could tell he was trying to act tough. “Whassup, y’all?”
“Just comin’ to check on you, fool. After last night and all…” Oscar stood behind Chris, almost as if he was scared to approach Jay.
“What you mean?” Jay said.
“Man, you was eatin’ like crazy. Probably why you got a stomach ache now.”
“Fuck you, man. I ain’t got no stomach ache, I’m just hungry. Waitin’ ’til we go back to the bingo hall to get some food.” He tried to shove past Chris to get to Oscar, his sweat-slick skin hot against Chris’s arm. “Why you all up in my business for, nigga?”
Chris held him back. “Chill the fuck out. We came here ’cuz we were worried about you, that’s all. I wasn’t there, but I been hearin’ things. That folks ain’t actin’ right and shit.”
Jay backed away from him, looked him up and down with a smirk on his face. “Easy for you to say with your moms winnin’ up all the damn money and shit.”
“What?”
“Shit, everybody know your moms got the shit rigged. What, she suckin’ Mr. Big’s dick or somethin’?”
Without being conscious of it, Chris’s fist flew from his side and collided with Jay’s jaw. The larger boy stumbled backward, the fat of his torso wiggling, and he caught himself on the side of the house. His tongue darted from his mouth and licked the blood from his lips where his own teeth had cut it. And he smiled.
“Come on, fool. Let’s get the fuck outta here.” Oscar pulled Chris by the shoulder, but Chris held his ground and
awaited Jay to return the attack.
“See y’all motherfuckers at bingo tonight,” Jay said. He chuckled under his breath and walked back into the house, slamming the door shut and locking it.
Chris still couldn’t make himself walk away. He stared at the door, fists clenched, teeth grinding. Tears streaked down his face as he breathed heavily through his nose.
“Don’t even worry about it. He done lost it, just like his mom. Come on, let’s go.”
Chris let Oscar pull him away this time, and he dreaded what the night would bring.
Before heading to the bingo hall that night, Chris had hoped his dad would come home early enough that he could talk to him about what had been going on. He didn’t think Mama was acting too weird, besides their little shopping spree they’d had earlier that day, but just knowing that everyone else was having such hostile thoughts about her worried him. If his dad knew about it, at least he could help Chris protect her if need be. But his dad never showed up, and before he knew it, Mama had ushered him into their car and they were parking at Big Time Bingo amongst a sea of glass and multi-colored metal.
“Mama, you won some pretty good money the past couple of nights, yeah?”
“You know that’s right,” she said, then puckered her lips in the rearview and checked her hair for the hundredth time.
“What if maybe we skipped bingo tonight? Maybe we can go get somethin’ to eat, just me and you? Give some of these other people a chance to win since you hoggin’ up all the luck.” He tried to smile at her, but when she turned from the mirror and looked into his face, he flinched and pressed his body backward against the passenger door.
“Ain’t this a bitch,” she said and slapped the rearview mirror so hard it fell off. She punched the steering wheel twice. “My own fuckin’ son can’t even be happy for me. What, you don’t like them new clothes you got on? Huh? Or how ’bout them new shoes?”
“Mama, I didn’t say that. I—”
“Maybe you should take that shit off then. Take off all the nice things your mama bought you with her own money. My own fuckin’ money! And you wanna act like you don’t appreciate it?”
The Bingo Hall Page 5
