Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
T rivia night is one of my favorite events during camp because what nerd doesn’t love a knowledge-based competition?
We divide into groups and summon the Ubers for those intending to drink.
Somehow Charlie ends up in the back of a sedan sandwiched between Angela and Esther, which I am fairly confident Angela orchestrated.
If he were older, I’d worry for his safety, but Angela has always preferred older men, at least when it comes to husband hunting.
The bar is only a seven-minute drive. I’ve been coming here since I was a teenager, but those early years mainly involved driving my dad home at the end of the night.
Charlie gazes at the squat building in wonder when we arrive. “Nickers? Is that a pun?”
“You aced the test. Most people think Nickey’s was misspelled, and he was too cheap to change it.”
He continues to stare at the building. “This is a dive bar.”
“Very good. Now identify this.” I point to a nearby bush.
“I was expecting more of a sports bar, the loud kind with big TVs.”
I nudge him forward. “What’s the matter? Are you afraid you’ll burst into flames upon crossing the threshold?”
“No, I’m worried they won’t accept AmEx.”
“You’re right, they won’t. Not to worry, we have enough cash between us to cover the bill. As I’m sure you can surmise, the beer here is inexpensive.”
The bar’s owner bounds toward us with a Labrador’s enthusiasm. “Cricket. Great to see you, honey.”
“Hi Nick. I reserved seating for trivia night.”
“You sure did. Manny will be here soon. You want pitchers for the tables?”
“Please.” I lean over to Charlie. “He’s talking about beer, not baseball.”
He bites back a smile. “I’m familiar with the concept.”
“I’ll help Nick with the pitchers and glasses,” I say. “You all go ahead.”
“I’m sticking to you,” Charlie says, following me to the bar.
“Nick and I can handle it.”
“No, I mean there’s so much residue on the floor, the toe of my shoe has adhered to your heel.”
“Hardy har. Be prepared. You’ll leave this place tonight with more molecules than you came with.”
Charlie recoils. “I don’t even want to know what that means.”
I try to see the place through his eyes.
There’s a U-shaped bar in the middle of the room dotted with stools.
To the left is a jukebox, a dartboard, and a pool table.
To the right is the seating area where we’re headed, with a few booths that line the wall and a smattering of square tables.
The floor is covered in sawdust and it’s anybody’s guess whether it’s a design choice or leftover debris from construction.
The lighting is dim enough to make everyone look reasonably attractive but not so dark that you end up canoodling with your own brother.
I’ve always liked it here, not that I frequent bars very often.
I’m more of a pajamas-by-eight-and-bed-by-ten person.
Nick slides a tower of glasses across the bar to me. “Is that enough?”
“Two more.”
While we wait, I notice Charlie’s gaze lower to my chest, which seems pretty brazen until he asks, “Do you own any item of clothing that isn’t trademarked?”
I pretend to think. “Nope. Even my underwear is DC.”
He blinks. “Washington?”
“The comics. Wonder Woman.”
“Right.”
“They had a thong version, but I think Diana Prince would opt for full coverage, don’t you?”
He shifts awkwardly. “Can we stop talking about your underwear now?”
“You brought it up.”
“I was talking about your T-shirt.”
I glance down at the Tree of Gondor design. “This one is lucky. I wore it last year on trivia night and my team won.”
“In that case, I’ll plant myself right next to you.”
I smirk. “It’s trivia, not a lawsuit.”
“I already told you, I’m not a litigator.”
“Maybe you should’ve been. Seems like winning is important to you.”
He doesn’t answer. We’re greeted by cheers when we deliver the pitchers to our section.
“If I’d have known beer could garner such a positive response, I would’ve had a keg delivered to the camp,” Charlie says.
Gloria lifts her chin. “We don’t negotiate with blackmailers.”
“Technically it’s bribery,” Charlie says.
“Oh, in that case, you should have.”
“There’s still time,” Angela quips. She pulls a pitcher closer to her and unwraps a straw. “What’s everybody else having?”
Angela doesn’t need Charlie’s keg. I’m convinced she stores bottles of alcohol under the floorboards of her cabin. She would’ve made an excellent smuggler during Prohibition.
We divide into teams and Charlie makes good on his promise to stay close to me. He slides into the booth and immediately pats the empty seat beside him. For some reason, it doesn’t occur to me to object, so I dutifully slide in beside him. Ben and Laura join us.
We agree to call ourselves Balrog’s Revenge. Correction: we all agree except Charlie, who abstains because he doesn’t know what a balrog is.
Laura covers her face. “I have secondhand embarrassment right now.”
“What happened to the judgment-free zone?” Charlie asks, although he doesn’t actually seem bothered.
“This is a field trip,” Laura replies. “We’re free to be as judgy as we want until we get back to the campground.”
“In that case, I’d like to comment on the decor.” He points to a life preserver affixed to the wall. “Why is there a nautical theme in a mountain bar?”
“Oh, that’s for emergencies. There’s a pond out back. Once in a while someone drinks too much and wanders into the water.”
“That seems like a lawsuit waiting to happen.”
“Only you would see opportunity in someone else’s tragedy,” Laura says.
“Except it won’t end in tragedy because your man Nick thought ahead.” He points again to the life preserver.
“There’s also a canoe outside,” I add, “although once in a while someone takes it out on the water when they probably shouldn’t.”
Charlie stares at me. “I’m starting to think there might be an issue with overserving customers in this establishment.”
“You don’t come here unless you intend to be overserved,” Laura tells him. “Nickers is best observed through the lens of beer goggles.”
“Yes,” Charlie says slowly. “I’m beginning to get that impression.”
I elbow him in the ribs. “I happen to be very fond of this place. You might as well settle in because you’ll be spending the next few hours inhaling the secondhand smoke.”
“There’s no avoiding the smoke,” Laura agrees. “It’s like an alien species. You could hold your breath all night and it would still find a way to seep into your pores.”
“Gee, this place gets more appealing by the minute. Anything I should know about the restroom?”
I cringe. “Oh, I’d recommend going outside.”
My suggestion amuses him. “That pleasant, huh?”
“The smoke gets everywhere, but so does the sawdust.” I rock in my seat. “Trust me. It’s very uncomfortable.”
“I’ll take it under advisement.”
“Welcome back, campers,” a booming voice says.
I look up as Manny places a Sharpie and paper in the middle of the neighboring table. “There you are. How’s it going?”
“Excellent. I’m glad to see you here. Every year I worry it’ll be the last.” Manny drops paper and a Sharpie on our table. I snatch the purple pen before Charlie gets his hands on it. I’m the captain of this ship.
“I have no intention of letting that happen,” I say. “Can’t say the same for this guy.” I bump Charlie with my elbow.
“At what point will you decide that I’m on the level?”
“At the point where you no longer represent Cricket’s archnemesis,” Laura answers.
The ends of Charlie’s mouth hitch up in amusement. “Riggieri is your archnemesis? Why didn’t you say so? I wouldn’t have passed along his proposal if I’d realized you were mortal enemies.”
My face feels flushed. “Laura is exaggerating. I don’t have any enemies. I love people.”
“Clearly. That must be why you isolate for ten months,” Charlie quips. “All that love for everybody.”
“Not Patrick,” Laura says. “There’s no love lost there.”
If there is a god, the crack in the booth would open up right now and swallow me whole.
Ben fills Laura’s half-empty glass. “Here you go, Laura. Something to keep your mouth busy.”
“Who’s Patrick?” Charlie asks.
Before anyone can answer, Manny officially kicks off trivia night. Inwardly, I’m relieved. I was having fun. No need to throw a rotten apple into the bunch and spoil it.
Manny is like the lovechild of a game show host and an auctioneer. He says many words in a short span of time and manages to sound like your biggest cheerleader, even if you’re not convinced he remembers your name.
“First category of the evening is Influential Television Shows.”
The announcement is followed by high fives and fist bumps. This group slays TV shows, which means the competition will be fierce.
Laura’s gaze rests on Charlie. “Well, we know who the dead weight will be for this category,” she mutters.
I try to look on the bright side. “Hey, if there’s a sports category, we’re golden.”
She perks up. “Good point. Last year they had that run of questions about tennis, and nobody answered a single one correctly.”
There are five questions in each category.
We write down the answers after conferring with our teammates, and then Manny goes through them at the end of each round.
The noise level drops by a few decibels because no one wants a neighboring table to overhear their proposed answers, unless you’re deliberately trying to mislead your competitors, which is Hunter’s style, so we know to tune him out.
“I’ve only seen one of these shows,” Charlie comments, once we jot down the fifth answer.
“Which one?” I ask.
He taps Bill Nye the Science Guy .
“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a science nerd.”
“I’m not. My younger brother Michael is, though. He’s the reason I ended up watching it.”
“Did he become a scientist?” Laura asks.
“A surgeon.”
Ben’s eyebrows perform a dance of approval. “Your parents must be very proud.”
Charlie hesitates. It’s brief but I notice. “Yeah, of course,” he says. “Three successful kids. What parents don’t want that for their children?”