Posts
BINGO BOY - post 32
Meanwhile, that night, back in the windowless, basement prison, Marge and Jimmy finish their dinner. And the other ghost narrators told me we never mentioned the chain. His foot is chained to the wall. It's a long one, attached to a ring, manacle, I guess they call it, 'round his ankle. That's so he can't run away. He can sit on the commode and mush up with Marge. But it never comes off, even when she 'helps' him take his sponge baths. Fits under his sock (he likes plain, cotton, crew socks from Kohl's). But Marge gets 'em from Kmart though. It's closer. He don't know. They had Ukrainian food, or almost Ukrainian food. She cooked it herself. Everything she makes is 'almost' what it's supposed to be. But at least she tries. Chinese food tastes like sweet and sour meatballs. But who knows? Maybe Chinese people would like it? An' ain't that the most important thing? Don't ask me what it was. I died in eighteen forty six. Never had no Ukrainian food in this city back then. Hell, German Jews and Irish Catholics were hot stuff to us. I had sour cream once. Threw up for two days. That's what killed me. So don't ask what Moo-Goo-Gai-Pan would a done. Probably would a taken out a whole side a the street.
Marge goes - Was it good?... Jimmy says - Very good... Marge says - So you liked it?..... Jimmy goes - I liked it... Marge says - I'm glad. I got the recipe from the library. The woman said it was real Ukrainian food. Still got the book. So tell me. What do you want for tomorrow?... He gestures for her to come closer. She sit-hops her chair over toward the cell and puts her face between the bars. He kisses her. She kisses him back. They pull apart. She catches her breath and goes - You want cabbage rolls? You want holubtsi?...... He goes - I give you cabbage roll... They kiss again.... She catches her breath and says - So, you like your new commode?..... Jimmy says - Yes, thank you very much. How much time til shit-for-brainses get home?..... Marge goes - Plenty a time. Don't worry...... Jimmy goes - Baby sleepink?...... She nods. They embrace through the bars and begin unfastening snaps and buckles...
'Bout a mile away, at the bingo hall, the evening shift is in full swing. Supper time's over (hot dog and mac and cheese casserole) and some a the big night games are startin'. Little Chrissie corners Marty by the doughnuts and coffee and says - You make up your mind yet?..... He goes - What?... Like he didn't hear, so she says it again. And Marty goes (as he stuffs a powdered doughnut into his mouth) - I'm thinkin'. I'm still thinkin..... Then he runs up and down the aisles, makin' like he's countin' all the cards for the record books. But it's just a show. Who the hell needs records when you can make 'em up yourself?... Little Chrissie looks over at Ricky (he's pickin' up quarters). He looks over at her. This ain't goin' too good...
And Too-Many-Cookies been askin' questions. Wants a know what's in all the bags. Seen Marge come back from Kohl's an' Kmart and all. Marge says - Christmas presents.... 'Too' says - Yeah? Then who's the little toilet for? I guess she ain't never heard nobody say 'commode.' But Marge goes - Little toilet? I ain't never bought no little toilet..... 'Too' goes - Ohhh...... But you know she don't believe her... You know this is a real narrow street they live on. Secrets are like an endangered species.
______________________________________________
Meanwhile, that night, back in the windowless, basement prison, Marge and Jimmy finish their dinner. And the other ghost narrators told me we never mentioned the chain. His foot is chained to the wall. It's a long one, attached to a ring, manacle, I guess they call it, 'round his ankle. That's so he can't run away. He can sit on the commode and mush up with Marge. But it never comes off, even when she 'helps' him take his sponge baths. Fits under his sock (he likes plain, cotton, crew socks from Kohl's). But Marge gets 'em from Kmart though. It's closer. He don't know. They had Ukrainian food, or almost Ukrainian food. She cooked it herself. Everything she makes is 'almost' what it's supposed to be. But at least she tries. Chinese food tastes like sweet and sour meatballs. But who knows? Maybe Chinese people would like it? An' ain't that the most important thing? Don't ask me what it was. I died in eighteen forty six. Never had no Ukrainian food in this city back then. Hell, German Jews and Irish Catholics were hot stuff to us. I had sour cream once. Threw up for two days. That's what killed me. So don't ask what Moo-Goo-Gai-Pan would a done. Probably would a taken out a whole side a the street.
Marge goes - Was it good?... Jimmy says - Very good... Marge says - So you liked it?..... Jimmy goes - I liked it... Marge says - I'm glad. I got the recipe from the library. The woman said it was real Ukrainian food. Still got the book. So tell me. What do you want for tomorrow?... He gestures for her to come closer. She sit-hops her chair over toward the cell and puts her face between the bars. He kisses her. She kisses him back. They pull apart. She catches her breath and goes - You want cabbage rolls? You want holubtsi?...... He goes - I give you cabbage roll... They kiss again.... She catches her breath and says - So, you like your new commode?..... Jimmy says - Yes, thank you very much. How much time til shit-for-brainses get home?..... Marge goes - Plenty a time. Don't worry...... Jimmy goes - Baby sleepink?...... She nods. They embrace through the bars and begin unfastening snaps and buckles...
'Bout a mile away, at the bingo hall, the evening shift is in full swing. Supper time's over (hot dog and mac and cheese casserole) and some a the big night games are startin'. Little Chrissie corners Marty by the doughnuts and coffee and says - You make up your mind yet?..... He goes - What?... Like he didn't hear, so she says it again. And Marty goes (as he stuffs a powdered doughnut into his mouth) - I'm thinkin'. I'm still thinkin..... Then he runs up and down the aisles, makin' like he's countin' all the cards for the record books. But it's just a show. Who the hell needs records when you can make 'em up yourself?... Little Chrissie looks over at Ricky (he's pickin' up quarters). He looks over at her. This ain't goin' too good...
And Too-Many-Cookies been askin' questions. Wants a know what's in all the bags. Seen Marge come back from Kohl's an' Kmart and all. Marge says - Christmas presents.... 'Too' says - Yeah? Then who's the little toilet for? I guess she ain't never heard nobody say 'commode.' But Marge goes - Little toilet? I ain't never bought no little toilet..... 'Too' goes - Ohhh...... But you know she don't believe her... You know this is a real narrow street they live on. Secrets are like an endangered species.
______________________________________________
No comments:
Post a Comment