Page 15 of Harnessed in Gold

“Toddlers play bingo.”

Aaron gets up to grab a handful of Doritos, smirking at Avery. “You’ve never been in a bingo hall in your life, have you?”

“No, so?”

“So, it’s some pretty intense shit. They don’t play the Disney Princess version.”

I hop up to snatch my phone from my coat pocket and googleAlderford bingoon my way back to the couch.

Aaron scrunches up against Leo to make room for me on his opposite side, and together we scroll through the options, few though they are. We either go Friday to Our Lady of the Assumption, Wednesday to the Alderford Fire Hall, or wait until summer to play “Bingo in the Park” with the mosquitos for a frilly, over-priced basket.

“Fire hall,” Aaron says with a firm nod. “Definitely the fire hall. That’s where we’ll find the regulars.”

Avery grabs her laptop, and we all gather around while Aaron hunts down some bingo tutorials on YouTube. He finds a whole series filmed at a VFW in Indiana, claiming it’s most like what we’ll encounter at the fire hall.

Rime sits on the floor at my knees, his back against the sofa, while Topaz, looking put out as always, rolls the desk chair close enough to see the screen but not so close as to appear interested. Avery leans over the back of the sofa between Aaron and Leo.

About halfway through video number two, Rime admits, “This is brutal.”

“Told you,” Aaron laughs.

“They’re a lot of older women there, though,” Avery points out.

Rime says, “They’re terrifying.”

Aaron wasn’t kidding. This isn’t anything like the Dora the Explorer bingo I had as a kid. The principle is the same: call the numbers, mark them on our card, shout outBingo!But the pace is faster and the stakes are high. Like hundreds of dollars high. They’re not playing for a glow stick and a pack of pretzels.

After one more video, we have a good enough idea of what we’re in for to commit to going on Wednesday night.

“Okay,” I say. “So how are we gonna get people to talk? We can’t just sit down and be like, ‘Hi. How’s it going? You know anything about a haunted hill?’” That may work onSupernatural, but not in real life.

“Get to know people,” Avery says. “Use some charm.”

At that last word, every head in the room turns to Rime. Young and fit, big blue eyes, just the right amount of insouciance. He’s the type of guy who can get an older woman giggling like a teenager and eating right out of his hand.

He smiles crookedly at our pointed looks. “I’ll try my best.”

We spend the next half hour drinking the rest of the tea, finishing the snacks, and planning our strategy.

“The key is to divide and conquer,” Avery says. “If we spread ourselves out around the hall, we’ll end up meeting more people than if we just sit together in one big group.”

She takes charge, splitting us into pairs—Aaron and Leo, herself and Topaz, and me and Rime—making sure there’s a human buffer in each duo to counteract any faerie awkwardness. Then, to allow for Topaz and Rime’s ignorance of American mores, she assigns us roles. She and Topaz will pretend to be locals, with the latter being too angry at her ex for kicking her out of his apartment to want to make much conversation. Aaron and Leo will pretty much be themselves: two college boys, Aaron the seasoned bingo player, and Leo his buddy coming along for the first time. And then there’s Rime and me. I’m the naïve city girl and he’s my Irish grad student boyfriend.

When we get carried away inventing backstories, Leo calls us down. “Keep it simple, everybody.”

He’s right, we’ll have enough to focus on without having to remember our elaborate histories, but still, why does he have to be such a party pooper?

I stand up, and after a good stretch, join in the clean-up effort, sweeping the crumbs off the coffee table into the empty chip bag. On my way to the kitchen, I also grab a handful of dirty cups.

Voices reach me as I approach the entryway, stopping me in my tracks.

“It should be me, not you.”

“I don’t think she wants to go with you.”

I survey the living room. How did I not notice Leo and Rime were no longer there?

Leo insists, “You need to be able to help her if she senses something. You saw what happened when she got overwhelmed, and with that logging accident, it was even worse.”