25TH BINGO BOY episode for 11/24/12

Bingo Boy - post 25

They all go out for a nice Thanksgiving dinner. Little Chrissie, Ricky, the baby, Marge and a neighbor lady, named Mary, that Marge is friends with. He drives them up to a shiny, new all-you-can-eat Chinese style buffet by the multiplex on Grant Avenue. It's in a part of the Northeast that's still a little bit suburban-middle class. Thirteen dollars and ninety nine cents... that's how much it cost, per person, I mean. Beverages extra. But they had nicely browned whole turkeys up there and candied sweet potatoes, roast beef and baby octopus.... just like the Pilgrims. The baby really liked all the sights... the lights... the smells... the other children... the mashed sweet potatoes. He had a good time. They all did. Little Chrissie took out her new iPad, or tablet, or whatever it is. Sure she tried to be discreet. But what could she do? She was hooked. Had a blog now. Wrote stories. OK, so only twenty seven hits so far. But it's only been two weeks. Trouble is, she writes from life, just like that writer on Charlie Rose said. An artist now, don't you know. Wants to check her stats, see if she got any more page views. Marge goes - Jesus Christ! Put that thing the hell away!..... Little Chrissie goes - All right, all right..... And she does. This is a holiday... a pleasant occasion.... baby's first night out in a 'real' restaurant. She understands. She gets it. But what she don't get is that her writing is a little too close to real life..... a little too revealing. John, that other kid from the bingo hall has seen it. He's pretty savvy with computers. And Little Chrissie tweeted about it at a site called #PHILLYSTORIES. That's how it happened. Oh, he didn't know she was the author. But he recognized the bingo hall (she moved it to Torresdale Avenue.. a very slight improvement). And the 'Marty' character was still Marty, only now he answered to 'Sid.' Even he was in it. But instead of 'John' they called him 'Tom.' And in the story, Jimmy wasn't wearin' printed sheet togas down her basement. He was dead and cold and buried in a swampy, Jersey, Pine Barrens grave.

Believe me, Big Chrissie was very upset when she found out. True, she thought it was a coincidence. But she believed in 'signs.' 

And this one wasn't good. 

Oh, yeah, one more thing..... this Thanksgiving outing  marked the first time they let Jimmy stay home by himself. Not that he was awake. Marge slipped him a double shot of Benadryl, or whatever you call it and he was sawin' wood in Old Ukraine..... Plus the cage was still locked. She felt bad... No, she really did. Ricky said they'd bring him back a take-out order of barbecued spare ribs and fried shrimp, maybe a couple other things too, so that made her feel a little better. Mary didn't know what they were talkin' about..... I don't know. Maybe she did.....

And I ain't a ghost from Frankford Avenue, or any other part a Philly... I'm just a ghost from Seattle, so don't ask me how I got here. This 'bein' dead' shit is all new to me.... I either fell out a window, or got hit by a train. But gimme some time. I'll remember.....

Maybe it's because I like Chinese food?

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24TH NaNoWriMo BINGO BOY episode for 11/23/12

BINGO BOY - post 23

And the ripples in the ether come from me. It is I, Pennyfeather, the actor from The Walnut Street Theater. What brought me back? Relationships... alliances.... romantic dalliances. We of the stage relish such things. For what is a play, save an intricately woven piece of emotional conceit? Bodies come together... and then they pull apart. Some do so repeatedly, while others maintain the seal. 

Ricky has his Chrissie, the little one, I mean. And she her Ricky-boy. What will become of it? How will the pudding set? And let us not forget the older lovers here. They also grow entangled, like ivy on a wall. And will the tendrils always climb, or will the trellis fall?

Ah, breakfast time in our secluded, basement dungeon. Abelard and Heloise had not a better spot. Marge fiddles with the vittles upon her Jimmy's tray and slides it to him through the iron bars... He drinks in her every move. And sees the pains she's taken to make her features glow...... He takes the and begins to eat. Then he says - Hey, old lady, how long the two shit-for-brainses gonna keep me here?..... Marge goes - I don't know. They don't tell me nothin'. I'm just her grandmom. And you know that little bundle we got upstairs?..... Jimmy goes - Yeahhh?..... Marge goes - I'm his (makes 'eyes') great grandmom... Jimmy says - No? For real?...... She nods playfully... He goes - I don't believe it. Tell me, old lady, how many years you got?..... She quietly ponders her response - You mean you wanna know how old am I?.... This time he nods..... She goes - I'm fifty five... No, I'm sixty. I'm sixty. I'm sixty. You know how it is... But that's not so old. Is it?....... He beckons her toward the bars. She comes closer. He reaches out, caresses her cheek and kisses her on the lips.... She sighs.... And he whispers - thank you for last night......... She wants to respond, but the baby begins to cry upstairs, so she pulls away, then turns and says - Tonight, for dinner, you want some take-out crab cakes from the taproom down the street?..... He nods and says - And get some for yourself. Why should we eat alone?

Later that day, as she takes the chubby bundle for his airing in a stroller, neighbor women can't help but notice how radiant she looks. Some of them whisper to each other.They say - What the hell she done to herself?....... But only her basement house guest knows for sure.

When dinner comes 'round, they sit together, though separated by the bars and quietly eat their meaty seafood treats, while watching Wheel of Fortune on the little TV. He's wearing the sweater from Kohl's. And except for his printed sheet kilt, plus the unusual surroundings, they appear to be an old, married couple.

Weeks go by. And that's the way it is......

But Little Chrissie wants some 'toys'. She buys herself a magic, little screen...an I-Pad, or a tablet, or some such thing. Wants to write, perhaps a blog. So she reads them, to better understand the form. And becomes enamored of one such daily epistle penned by a Shropshire lad known as David James. One day she responds, leaving a comment at http://davejameswriting.blogspot.com that leads to certain troubling complications.....

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23RD NaNoWriMo BINGO BOY episode for 11/22/12

Bingo Boy - post 23

It's cold. It's dark. The kids are out in the alley, taking a break, behind the bingo hall. They got long sleeved t-shirts under their 'polo shirt' uniforms now. Hands are thrust into pockets. Breath clouds form in the air, illuminated by a security light mounted high on the worn, brick wall...... Ricky, Little Chrissie, Big Chrissie and John sit on the little dumpster. It's like their outdoor furniture....... Big Chrissie says - You think I'm startin' a 'show'?......... Little Chrissie says - I don't know. A little, maybe..... John goes - I don't see nothin'. You always look husky to me.......... She pokes him with her elbow..... Ricky says - You gonna keep it? I don't mean get rid of it. I don't mean have an abortion. I know how you feel about that. I mean like give it up for adoption or something......... Big Chrissie goes - Fuck no. No way. We keep our kids in my family, all of 'em. And Jimmy said he'd help out. He said he'd pay for stuff. You know how he is with my grandpop........ John says - Yeah, they watch the All-Hitler channel together. We know....... She sucks her teeth and nudges him with her shoulder. Then she goes - Just wish he'd get back soon. You know how much a stroller costs? Damn... What the hell's takin' him so long?........... Ricky and Little Chrissie just look at each other.

And later, at closing time, after everybody else is gone and Muscles and the new guy are waiting outside, just as they're about to leave, Marty turns to Ricky and says - What's gone on?....... Ricky gets all flustered and goes - What do you mean? Nothin'. Nothin's gone on..... Little Chrissie just looks.... Marty says - I know you want day work.  But it's gotta be like this. You gotta keep workin' your regular shifts. You gotta keep workin' your regular job. Don't change nothin'. Don't act different. Don't. Just don't. We don't want nobody askin' no questions, 'specially that 'Big Chrissie' thing. You got that? You understand what I'm sayin'?......... Ricky goes - Yeah. Sure....... But Little Chrissie just stretches the sleeve down on her shirt to hide her new designer wristwatch.....

Soon after, they go right home, grab a few rolled up slices of processed American cheese, maybe a few slices a salty, cheap ham, watch the baby in his crib for a while and hop into bed. They lay there whispering in the dim, blue light from the small TV...... Little Chrissie goes - Told you there'd be enough room for your stuff in here...... Ricky says - Yeah, there is...... She goes - And why does that surprise you?...... He goes - No, that doesn't surprise me...... She goes - Yes it does. You think I'm just like them other bingo girls. You think I spend all my money on crap. Don't ya? You think I go to Slutty McSlut's Slut Parlor for big, hoop earrings and all. Don't you?.... He just exhales and says - You wanna watch Jimmy Kimmel?..... She goes - No. Charlie Rose. Put on Charlie Rose...... He does and they lay there, watching him announce some dry, starchy Washington insider and a guy who used to give pedicures to the pope.

But ten seconds later she impatiently yanks out her hoop earrings and slams 'em down on the night table.

Ricky pretends not to notice.......

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22ND NaNoWriMo BINGO BOY episode for 11/20/12

Bingo Boy - post 22

Now we're back in the cellar. Days and nights run together down there, so it doesn't really matter. What's important is who's home. And right now, Little Chrissie and Ricky are at work.... Jimmy lays on the cot reading a copy of GOURMET magazine. He eyes the delectable creations. Seared, glazed, Scotch Salmon for The Holidays... Crisp edged, Bohemian Potato Latkes (pancakes) with caramelized apple-chutney topping for Hanukah Time (yeah, they got that too). And he's hungry. And he's impatient. so he glares up at the ceiling and yells ---- Where the hell's my tuna fish sandwich!? I want my tuns fish sandwich!!...... We hear some noise up in the kitchen. Ten seconds later, Marge clip-clops down the cellar stairs carrying a cold can of Diet Coke and a nicely plated, all white meat, tuna sandwich on thickly sliced, whole wheat bread.... She goes - Hold your horses, you old fart, you!..... But she looks and sees that he's angry. And we all know she got a weakness for a flushed faced, not so bad lookin' old man in a sixty/forth blend, printed sheet toga. I don't know. Maybe the bright red, Phillies, baseball cap adds something too? So she passes the plate through a horizontal slot in the bars, takes a seat on the wooden, folding chair and watches, as he slowly savors the food. Then she gives him the can of Diet Coke. Their hands brush. She gasps, as he responds with an equally aroused and breathy 'thank you.' I think she jumped a little when he popped the top. But then she watches him guzzle the cold drink too. And when he's done, he says -  Bring my what I need to bathe... I want to wash my body.... She nods, takes back the plate (topped by an empty, crushed can and goes upstairs. 

While out in the street, a car speeds by, headed for a low, yellow, cheesy moon..... And inside, just a little bit later, we see a plastic basin filled with soapy, gray water. A washcloth floats on the surface..... Jimmy and Marge are making love, standing up, right through the bars of the cage. His lower body is covered by yet another patterned sheet, carefully knotted 'round his hips. And his partner wears a crisp, fresh, yellow housecoat (from when she spent time in the hospital with her gall stones), completely unbuttoned down the front.... The brand new, Phillies cap is still on his head...... Later, as they watch TV (a nineteen inch flat screen brought from her room upstairs), still attired in their 'whoopee' clothes, only now discreetly buttoned and arranged (I think it's an ANTIQUES ROADSHOW episode), She says - You like that little beach chair I got you?.... Jimmy goes - It's ok, but why you not get a pad?....... Marge says - Tomorrow..... Jimmy goes, as he points to the screen - And the sweater we seen on the Kohl's commercial?.... Marge sighs and goes - Yeah, that too.... But then she thinks for a second and adds - Where the hell am I 'spposed a find a Kohl's Department Store 'round here?.....

But he just gives her a defiant look... and she nods...... Modern romance..... Ain't life grand?

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21TH NaNoWriMo BINGO BOY episode for 11/19/12

Bingo Boy - post 21

But at work, nothing changes. Every little movement has a meaning all its own and people notice. The routine must remain the same. Ricky and Chrissie race up the long narrow aisles between the players picking up the change and keeping count just like the other bingo kids. They just work here. Nobody's suddenly rich. Nothing is different. And the hall still reeks of smoke. 

A few Mountain Dews. Some quick breaths out in the alley. Throw back a slice or two of pizza and the night's over. Smile at the Gravel Gerties as they waddle out. Ridicule 'em once their gone. Wait for the 'bingo slatterns' (shills) to get their share. Run the vacuums. Clean the tables (they use spray bottles filled with bleach and water). Straighten the cards. Then they walk out with the other bingo kids, go to the car and drive off. Only Ricky and Chrissie don't go home. They circle back through the streets the cops call 'the vampire wonderland,' pull into the alley and quietly go inside. Marty's there. So it Muscles, along with another younger guy who's supposed to be still on the force. But they sit out front, in the hall, near the entrance, just in case any a the blood suckers runnin' 'round the avenue get ideas. Ricky thinks they know something. Chrissie can't tell. Marty swears they don't. But sometimes Muscles turns around and looks into that big mirror like he can see right through it. Marty counts out a stack a 'c' notes, puts it into an envelope and slides it across the desk. Ricky takes it. They silently get up to leave. Marty holds open the big, heavy, metal back door. They exit. He closes it, jams in into places and secures the locks. Then he joins Muscles and the new young guy out front, activates the alarm, snaps off the lights and they're gone. The red, neon 'BINGO' light in the window goes dark. Shift's over.

The next day, he takes Chrissie to run errands. Go to the market. See what's on sale at Marshall's. Stuff like that. Marge and Jimmy are on their own. The baby sits in his play pen holding big plastic blocks and going ya-ya-ya. Boy is he cute. 

Jimmy's in his cage. The patterned sheet is now a hip-hugger sarong. He sits on the cot watching the tiny, tropical fish dart back and forth in the little aquarium. Marge switches on a vacuum cleaner. He looks up, seemingly right through the ceiling, as she pushes it back and forth. And he's thinking.... he's thinking... he's thinking...... Two seconds later he gets up and executes a few fast 'old man' push-ups with his palms against the wall. Then he lays back on the cot with his hands behind his head... and smiles, just the way a fox does in them old black and white cartoons.....

A little later, Ricky and Chrissie come back to pick up the baby before going out to a nice, cheery, deli restaurant for dinner. Marge don't wanna go. I don't know. I guess Jimmy's sendin' vibes up through the floor. 

See, the baby's at that stage now where he'll eat table food if it's mashed up or broken into little tiny pieces and Chrissie likes to show him off. So she and Ricky sit facing each other, with the little guy in a clip on highchair at her side. The waitress wanted to put him on the end of the table, but Ricky said no, 'cause people walk by carryin' hot coffee and soup and all. He's thinks about things like that. 

Ricky says - I think the baby should go to one of those kiddie-Gymboree classes or something. They need it. They're supposed to do that........ Little Chrissie eats her medium rare chopped sirloin with mushroom gravy. They got good food here. Lemme tell you. She says - He don't need it. He's alright..... and she gives him a taste of 'old fashioned' mashed potatoes with gravy. Look...look at him. He loves it. Then he makes with his 'happy baby' ya-ya-ya routine and waits for more.......... Ricky goes - No, really. They need it.......... Little Chrissie goes - How you know so much? (she likes her platter)...... The baby watches another young family in the next booth. He hears their rosy bundle babble 'daa-dee, daa-dee, daa-dee' to the smiling breadwinner. Then he turns toward Ricky and does the same.......... And Ricky says - 'Cause I know... as he leans across and wipes some food from the baby's little cheek.

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20 NaNoWriMo Novel In A Month episode for 11/18/12

Bingo Boy - post 20

Look, a nice, cozy International House of Pancakes. It's late. It's cold, but they're still open. Ricky, Little Chrissie and Marty share a booth. They sit talking over the remnants of 'breakfast for dinner' feast..... Marty goes - So how'd you do it?... Ricky goes - Better you don't know.... Marty nods. He get it, but he still wants to know and says - Where'd you plant him?....... Little Chrissie says - Better you don't know. You wanna know the truth? Even we don't know...... Ricky says - We were so deep into them God damned woods, I don't know how we even got back here. I don't know. I don't..... Marty goes - Hope you didn't leave any clues...... Ricky goes - I'm telling you. If they looked for years, they'd never find him.... Marty seems pleased.... Little Chrissie adds - Boy, that's for sure.......

And the next day, back in the rowhouse dungeon, Marge drags a big boom box down to the cellar and regales Jimmy-the-prisoner with a private demo of her best, raunchy bump and grind. He just looks, arms still pinned to the wall... Now she's down to a little fringed and sequined bikini...... She says - This was my big move (and she shudders like a baby after a piss) from when I used to headline the Trocadero. you know, 'The Troc'?...... Jimmy doesn't respond..... She says - No? Well. I guess you were still in The People's Republic back then. So that's OK.... Then she hits a beat and goes to pull off her top, but suffers a wardrobe malfunction and cuts a finger on an old sequin....... She goes - Shit. Shit. Shit.... and grabs a Kleexex to staunch the blood...... Jimmy says - Yo, sexy bitch, you, you know I can't even feel my arms no more....... But Marge resumes dancing again and says - Wait a minute...... Jimmy goes -  you crucifyin' me. Come on!.... And he rattles the chains..... Marge goes - I just said. Gimme a minute..... Guess relivin' past glories is like a drug...... But five heatbeats later Jimmy starts roaring in frustration.... She's offended by this, reaches for a nearby riding crop and cracks it loudly against the bars. Then she snaps - I told you! Wait!......And he does......

Later that night, Ricky and Little Chrissie push a cart through Target laden with more Jimmy-stuff... Ricky goes - An electric shaver I can see, but what's he gonna do with a Sunbeam Facial Sauna? Christ, I didn't know they still made 'em anymore.... Little Chrissie goes - That's not for him. It's for Gran...... Ricky gives her a questioning look....... She adds - Aw, leave her alone. What you care?....... He shrugs. They wander off.....

But ninety minutes hence, they're back home and the cellar cage has been redecorated, better than Mayberry's jail cells even. There's a nice throw rug on the floor, a matching comforter on the cot, a lamp, some accent cushions, a picture or two on the wall, even a small, plugged in tropical fish aquarium complete with plants, a 'bubblator,' some fish and a waving mermaid. Jimmy sits on cot, wearing a patterned sheet like a toga and he also has a brand new (tag and all) Phillies baseball cap on his head........ Marge (pointing a gun at him) asks - So, do you like it?......... Jimmy ignores her and turns toward Ricky - How long I gonna stay here?....... Ricky says - I can't tell ya.......... Jimmy goes - Why?........ Marge says - Because we don't know, you dumb shit! Look, you want me to go bring you some peanut butter (to the other two) He likes peanut butter. He likes TastyKakes too. (to Jimmy) Ya want a TastyKake? I'll get you a TastyKake?........ Jimmy goes -  OK, two TastyKake and one hand-job...... Marge blushes and goes - Now, now, come on. Don't get fresh. Don't start with me. And who's gonna hold the gun if I do that? You were chained up before. Remember that?..... He chuckles evilly. Marge shoves the gun to Little Chrissie and runs upstairs.....Jimmy turns to Ricky and goes - You get the Vasiline Intensive Care Cream?......... Ricky doesn't know what to say...... Little Chrissie goes - How 'bout if I shoot him? Right now. Right now!..... But the baby starts to cry, so she gives the gun to Ricky and trots upstairs..... Jimmy turns to Ricky and says - Now, gimme the lotion........ Ricky sighs and hands it over

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19TH NaNoWriMo Novel In a Month episode for 11/17/12

Bingo Boy - post 19

So Marge unlocks the door and enters. Jimmy looks up. He studies her closely. Sure she's a little beat up, but life'll do that to you. She tries. And that's what's important. You know what she's like? Like maybe Melinda Dillon from Close Encounters, or Goldie Hawn, but only if they survived Auschwitz and escaped with a lot a Kmart hootchie outfits.

And she locks eyes on Jimmy too. Some old guys still got it, especially if they made it through the Soviet prison system. Never had a client like him before. This one might be a challenge..... She puts the tray down on the floor and sits straddling his legs. OK, maybe her descent wasn't as graceful as it could have been, but you got a give her credit. Black bike shorts? Come on.

Jimmy looks at her, suddenly aware of his nearly naked state, but still defiant. Marge say - Now what'll it be?...... He answers in a low, parched growl - The Borscht. Gimme the borsht.... Marge goes - But remember, I don't know if it's supposed to be served hot or cold....... Jimmy says - Is OK. Is OK........ So she begins to carefully spoon it into his mouth. Just like feeding a baby. He's thirsty and hungry and desperate for the food...... Marge says - Is it good?....... He licks some off his lips and slowly nods..... She smiles, just a little. Then feeds him some more. A few drops drip down onto his chest and run down his belly. She blots them up with a bit of the blanket that covers him. He studies her face, as she does. But the big, tattered, yellow bow 'round his neck bothers him and he tries to move it out of the way with his chin..... She notices and helps him, but it takes time, since the knot is small and tight.... Her fingers brush his neck... He tries to move his hips... She notices and looks into his eyes. Then she scootches up even closer. He breathes deeply.... She says - You know, for an old fart you look pretty good.... He moves his hips. She giggles.... Then the bow is off... The bowl is empty. She says - You want some more?..... He shakes his head 'no'.......... She manages to get back up on her feet, gathers the stuff and goes - Maybe later I'll bring you some soap and water and toothpaste and all... And a bed pan too. I'll bring you a bed pan. I got one upstairs....... He rattles his chains and goes - Who gonna wash me... you?...... She says - Yeah..... and goes upstairs.

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