Chapter 21
The VFW in Clay Creek smelled a little bit like stale beer and arthritis cream, but Ben didn’t mind spending time in the little
tin can building at the edge of town. His grandfather had taken him there a few times when he’d been younger after he’d promised
that under no circumstances would he tell his mother. It was where he’d learned to curse and also where he’d had a sip of
his first beer while his grandfather was playing pool and his drink was left unsupervised. He’d thrown up in the hedges when
he got home, and his grandfather said that was punishment enough.
There was indeed a wall of thanks dedicated to Ben’s grandfather, and he stood staring at it for a few minutes after he arrived,
while Granny, Morris, Cassie, and Mylie secured a table. It was surprisingly packed for a Tuesday night.
Ben admired the picture of his grandfather in his service uniform. He’d served in the Korean War as military intelligence
and used the G.I. Bill to go to college and become a doctor. Ben hadn’t seen many pictures of his grandfather as a young man
and even fewer of him in uniform. He felt a sense of pride at realizing he looked quite a lot like his grandfather, even though
the only uniform Ben had ever worn was a cap and gown at various graduations. He knew all the work his grandfather put into
becoming a doctor and raising his mother, primarily on his own, had paved the way for Ben’s own education.
“Your grandfather was a good man,” Granny said from behind Ben. “I miss him.”
“Me, too,” Ben said.
“I didn’t think he’d last a month when he moved here,” Granny continued. “Such a city slicker, that one. But you know, he
surprised us all. Opened that clinic and cared for the people of this town like we were his own. I suppose after a while,
we were.”
“He loved it here,” Ben replied, still staring at his grandfather’s picture. “My mom thought he was crazy, but he just said,
‘Now, Emily, you ought to give it a try. Clay Creek will surprise you.’”
Granny croaked out a laugh. “I don’t suppose your mother ever got used to it, did she?”
Ben turned to face Granny. “She didn’t,” he admitted. “But I think she tried. It’s because of her I’m here, you know.”
“Oh?”
Ben nodded. “When she got very sick, I went to live with her for a while. I took a few months off from school and stayed with
her at her apartment.”
Granny squeezed his arm.
“She said she knew that when I inherited the house, I’d sell it.” Ben didn’t know why, but he felt shame saying those words
out loud. “She made me promise that before I did, I’d come down here and visit, made me promise to spend time here before
I made any final decisions.”
“And here you are,” Granny replied, still gripping him. “You’ve upheld her wishes, and that’s all she ever could have asked
for.”
“I’m trying,” Ben said. “But I still don’t know why she wanted me to come back. No offense, but she was glad to go back to
Chicago.”
“None taken,” Granny said. “Perhaps your mother knew something you didn’t about Clay Creek.”
“Maybe,” Ben said, unconvinced.
“They’re starting!” Mylie called from the table across the room. “Hurry up!”
Ben followed Granny over to the long white table and took a seat in a rickety folding chair.
“Here,” Mylie said, handing out three large bingo cards to each of them. “This is the marker.” She held out a marker with
a broad foam tip. “Press it down when you hear a letter and number that corresponds to your card.”
“Thanks,” Ben said. “But I have played bingo before.”
“You’ve never played bingo at the Clay Creek VFW,” Granny pointed out. “We play for blood. See those women over there?” She
pointed to a table where a group of women sat, concentration written on their wrinkled faces. “Those are the bingo queens.
They nearly always win. Agnes paid her house off last year with her bingo winnings.”
Ben whistled under his breath. “I didn’t realize bingo could be so lucrative.”
“Quiet over there!” one of the women shouted, glaring at Granny.
“Calm your tits, Bernice!” Granny shot back. “Turn up your hearing aid!”
Bernice flipped Granny the bird.
“Tough crowd,” Ben said, leaning over to Mylie. “I thought this would be a bunch of sweet senior citizens.”
Mylie snorted. “You thought wrong, Dr. Lawrence.”
“Is that Dr. Benji’s grandson?” Bernice asked, standing up and pushing a walker over to where Mylie and Ben sat. “Did I hear
that right?”
Granny narrowed her eyes at Bernice and mumbled, “She turned the damn thing up too high.”
Bernice ignored Granny, focusing her attention on Ben. “I should have recognized you!”
Ben gave Bernice a tentative smile, still unsure if Bernice was going to hug him or bite his head off. “You’re a doctor, too?”
“Well,” Ben began.
“You know; I have this goiter...”
“Shove off, Bernice!” Granny growled. “He ain’t that kind of doctor.”
Bernice opened her mouth to respond, but the announcer walked to the front of the stage next to the large spinning machine
where they pulled the numbers. “Welcome to this week’s VFW bingo! Is everybody ready?”
Shouts came from the crowd, and Bernice hobbled her way back over to her table.
“Get ready,” Mylie said. “Things are about to get interesting.”
There were several bingos over the next hour, mostly from the table of crones where Bernice sat. Every time someone at that
table won, they’d look over at Granny and smile. Granny, to her credit, only cursed under her breath.
“Stop looking at my card,” Mylie said, elbowing Ben in the side.
“It’s not like I can cheat at bingo,” Ben hissed, rubbing his sore ribs.
Mylie narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m going to make you go sit with Bernice if you’re not careful.”
Ben shuddered. “Okay, I won’t look anymore.”
Ben enjoyed the easy way everyone at the table existed with each other. Sometimes Morris would reach over and hold one of Granny’s hands when no one was looking, and the old woman would smile. Cassie stayed close to Mylie, drinking a Coke out of a glass bottle and paying little attention to the card in front of her. He’d thought maybe he would feel uncomfortable going out with them, since he wasn’t really part of the family, but it wasn’t that way at all. Everyone took measures to include him, and it began to feel like this was something he’d always done—played bingo at the foul-smelling VFW with this band of misfits.
“I think I have a bingo,” Ben whispered to Mylie after a couple of hours.
“What?” Mylie said, looking over at his card. “Holy shit, you do. Yell bingo!”
“Bingo!” Ben said, raising his hand. “Bingo!”
“Louder!” Mylie said at the same time Bernice yelled “ Bingo!”
“He said it first!” Mylie shouted, jumping up from her seat. “Ben said it first!”
Bernice and her table glared at Mylie. “No, I’m first!” Bernice said.
“Bullshit!” Granny said, standing up. “We all heard him say it.”
The two elderly men at the front of the room glanced at each other uncomfortably. People didn’t usually protest when Bernice
claimed a win.
Bernice held up her card. “I said it loudest!”
“That doesn’t matter,” Mylie cut in. “Ben had a bingo first!”
“It doesn’t matter,” Ben said, genuinely afraid this might come to blows. “Let her have it.”
Bernice made to walk toward the stage, but Granny stepped in front of her, hands on her ample hips. “Not another step, Bernice,”
she said.
“Or what, Violet ?” Bernice countered, shoving her walker into Granny. “You aren’t my granny, so I ain’t callin’ you anything other than your Christian name.”
“Your granny had a full beard,” Granny replied, steady despite the threat of the walker. “So, I guess I should take that as
a compliment.”
That was all it took for chaos to break loose at the Clay Creek VFW. Granny ducked just in time to miss Bernice’s right hook, but not fast enough to dodge Agatha’s shoulder. Granny knocked into the table behind her, sending bingo cards flying.
Ben watched in horror as women, literal grandmothers, began to brawl. Bracelets and clip-on earrings came off, fists went
flying. One woman, a rounder, plumper version of Bernice, swung her beaded necklace around like a pair of nunchucks.
“Now you’ve done it,” Mylie said to Ben, motioning for Cassie to duck as an empty soda bottle went flying. “You just had to
have a bingo, didn’t you?”
“ ME ?” Ben gasped. “I didn’t even want to say it!”
In front of them, Morris grabbed Granny around the waist, hauling her kicking and screaming back toward the table.
“THAT’S ENOUGH!” A voice bellowed into the microphone from the front of the room.
Nobody paid any attention.
“BINGO NIGHT IS CANCELED INDEFINITELY!”
Everyone paused, as if involved in a sadistic game of freeze tag.
“Sit down!”
Ben was surprised to see Melissa at the stage, mic in hand, staring out into the abyss of pandemonium, eyes narrowed.
“Bernice,” Melissa continued. “You know good and well someone else called bingo before you. And Granny! You know better than to insult Bernice’s family. Everybody sit down right now and act like the adults you are.”
Everyone sat.
Granny harrumphed into her chair, a cut across her cheek and two fingernails chipped and jagged. Bernice, who’d been wielding
her walker like a battering ram, did the same.
“Now, who called bingo?”
Ben’s mouth went dry.
Mylie nudged him. “Say it,” she said.
“Am I going to get stabbed in the parking lot after this?” Ben whispered.
“Maybe,” Mylie said with a shrug. “It’s been known to happen.”
“She’s kidding,” Morris said with a nervous laugh. “It only happened the one time.”
“Hello?” Melissa said. “Who said bingo?”
Slowly, Ben stood up. “It was me,” he said.
“Come on up, Ben!” Melissa said into the mic, eyes shining with delight. “You’re tonight’s grand prize winner! Last bingo
of the night!”
Ben made his way to the stage, aware that everyone was staring at him. He had no idea how the night had taken such a turn,
but he knew one thing for sure—he never wanted to piss off another senior citizen for as long as he lived.
“Congratulations,” Melissa said as he neared her. “You’ve won our five-hundred-dollar weekly pot.”
Ben gawked at her. “Five hundred dollars?”
Melissa nodded and then leaned in to whisper, “Bernice has won every week for a month. We think she’s cheating, but for the
life of us, we can’t figure out how.”
Ben handed over his card while the men behind the table on the stage checked it over. When they were satisfied, they nodded
to Melissa who handed Ben five crisp hundred-dollar bills.
“Thanks,” Ben said, not knowing what else to say while the rest of the room watched the transaction.
“I’d leave now if I were you,” Melissa said with a wink. “You saw how Bernice can be with that walker.”
“This is the most terrifying group of people I’ve ever been around,” Ben muttered, walking back toward Mylie and the group,
who were already readying themselves to leave.
“See you next week!” Melissa called after him.
“Not if I can help it,” Ben said, shoving the money down into his pocket.
Bernice eyed him as he walked by, and he was nearly to the door when he changed his mind. He turned and walked back toward
where she sat and laid down one of the hundred-dollar bills Melissa had just handed him.
“What’s this?” Bernice asked him, her eyes narrowing.
“That’s for you,” Ben said.
“Why?” Bernice asked.
“Just trying to be gentlemanly.”
“$300,” Bernice countered.
“$200,” Ben replied, placing another bill down in front of her.
“Fine,” Bernice growled. “But...”
“No buts,” Ben said, cutting her off. “And you should definitely get that goiter looked at.”
For a moment, Ben thought Bernice would balk, but instead, her face broke out into a wide grin and she began to howl. “Oh,
I like you, kid.” She turned to where Granny stood watching, her mouth hanging open. “He’s a keeper!”