Chapter 6 #2
“Why?” I ask.
“To keep the faeries away. Don’t nobody wanna get mixed up with them.”
Amen, sister. Do they sell iron nails at Walmart?
“Well.” I shrug. “There might be faeries and ghosts in the woods, but not here in town.”
“And why not here in town?” Linda says as she lines up her daubers in front of her. “Ain’t no ghosts where there ain’t been no people.”
“If you’ve seen one, don’t say so,” Rime teases. “Or my girl here might not sleep tonight.”
“Oh, I ain’t never seen one myself. But other folks has. Marlene’s man, Jimmy, saw three Cherokees with tomahawks and scalps in their hands.”
“Ghosts?”
“Haints, that’s what we call them. And yeah, he saw them down by the river.”
The river? Holy shit.
Linda leans across the table to whisper, knocking over her purple and red daubers with her ample bosom, “They say there was a raid there, way back when. Before Boone’s time.”
My eyes flash up to meet Rime’s. That was what I felt on our walk on Monday. He indicates with a nearly imperceptible nod that he knows what I’m thinking—and that he agrees.
“And don’t forget the crossroads,” Barbara adds.
I gape. “Crossroads?” As in Faust, make-a-deal-with-the-devil crossroads?
“Gooood evening,” booms a voice over the loudspeaker. “And welcome to the Alderford Fire Department’s Wednesday night bingo! Round one will begin in two minutes. That’s twoooo minutes.”
I smother a growl and resist the urge to throw a dauber at the emcee. We were just about to get the good dirt!
“You two better pay attention,” Linda chides. “You got nine boards to keep track of.”
“He calls em pretty fast,” Barbara warns. “But they’ll go up on the TVs.” She points to the wall beside us where digital monitors blink numbers and local ads.
“Oh, okay,” I say. “Thanks.”
Rime releases me, and we both turn our attention to our game cards. Might as well play since no one’s going to be chatting while numbers are being called.
The caller, who looks like a WWI general with his bushy white mustache, starts up the ball machine, its whir silencing what little chatter remained.
Glancing past Rime, I spot Leo and Aaron, heads already bent over their boards.
Avery too. Topaz, however, is staring at the ball machine in utter horror, and considering her views on technology, I’m not surprised.
The machine is loud, flamboyant, and unnecessary.
Kind of like everything in the human world.
At the table behind her and Avery sit four young guys.
Judging from their snickering and condescending expressions, they’re Brownhill frat boys ‘slumming’ with the townsfolk.
No wonder the locals don’t care much for us students.
I’m grateful that Rime is with me to charm the ladies around us, and that somehow, despite my parents, I learned how to be friendly and kind.
I guess it’s easy to see that people are all the same when I can literally share in their emotions.
In round one, we play for a straight diagonal.
Of my nine boards, only one comes close.
But I’m pleased that, with a little help from the monitors on the wall, I’m able to keep up with all nine cards.
I could get a little addicted to daubing.
I want to daub every inch of my sheets, just for the fun of it.
Three shouts of Bingo stop the game. But once the winners are verified, we move on to round two: picnic table.
“Picnic table?” I mutter to Rime, hastily taping on my blue sheet. “What the hell is that?”
“G-12!” The emcee calls. “G-12!”
“Maybe there’s a guide in our bag,” Rime says. Frantically, I scan both our boards while he fishes around in his beginner’s kit and produces a trifold brochure.
“You have a G-12 right there.” I point on his sheet.
After he daubs it in yellow, we bend our heads over the brochure.
Inside are diagrams for all the possible bingo patterns.
When we find picnic table, I giggle. An X, topped with a solid line?
That’s a stretch. Rime looks at me blankly.
Maybe they don’t have picnic tables in Nàdar.
Next, we play for a plus sign, and after that, four corners.
Rime gets only one daub away from winning the former, and one of the frat boys wins the latter.
To anemic applause, he claims his prize: $100 that he’ll blow on a week’s worth of beer.
I can tell by his walk he’s a Braden. All swagger and charm.
He winks at someone as he returns to his seat. God help us if it’s Topaz.
“Fancy a snack?” Rime asks me as the emcee calls for a break.
“Uh, sure.”
“What would you like?”
I shrug, my mind on Linda and Barbara. How can I subtly get them back on the subject of ghosts?
“A ghrá.” Rime takes me by the chin. “What can I get you?”
His touch rattles me. “Oh, um, a Coke and some pretzels?”
“Alright.” He winks. "I’ll be back in a moment.”
I try to turn my attention to my new friends, but he holds me firmly, leaning down to plant a slow kiss on my temple.
It’s everything I can do not to gasp. Boyfriend. He’s supposed to be my boyfriend.
He winks again before his gaze shifts out into the room. I follow it and find myself looking directly at Leo. He’s halfway to standing, hands in fists and murder in his eyes.
Rime frowns as he rounds his chair.