Praise for Rita Mae Brown’s delightful novels featuring the unforgettable Hunsenmeir sisters …
BINGO
“This is vintage Brown.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Delightful … Rita Mae Brown is still a hoot.”
—Philadelphia Inquirer
“Bingo beams with Brown’s fondness for her characters and her delight in the oddness of the world of Runnymede.”
—Boston Herald
“Joyously comic.”
—People
“Longtime fans will welcome back Nickel Smith, this time coping with a surprising passion.… New ones will flock to Bingo’s vividly drawn characters (like the lustful Hunsenmeir sisters) and tart, loving humor.”
—Self
“Hilarious, superbly written fiction.”
—Booklist
“Genuinely funny.”
—Los Angeles Times
LOOSE LIPS
“[Brown] does an admirable job of portraying the effects World War II has on a small American town.… [The] characterizations of Louise and Juts are acutely realistic.”
—Arizona Republic
“Brimming with Brown’s comic sense of social posturing and missteps, her rich novel lets readers laugh with her at the personal foibles that seem to loom so large in small-town settings.”
—Booklist
“Time has honed Brown’s literary skills but not lessened her love for these characters.”
—Library Journal
“Surprises … come from Rita Mae Brown’s comic timing and her affection for eccentrics.”
—Seattle Times
SIX OF ONE
“Joyous, passionate, and funny. What a pleasure!”
—Washington Post Book World
“No matter how quirky or devilish, Brown’s people cavort in an atmosphere of tenderness.… It is refreshing to encounter this celebration of human energy.”
—Chicago Sun-Times
“Brown has some of the same effervescent yet secure trust in her local characters that Eudora Welty feels for hers.… When history nicks them, they slap right back.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“A lively and very lovely book.”
—Publishers Weekly
Books by Rita Mae Brown
with Sneaky Pie Brown
WISH YOU WERE HERE
REST IN PIECES
MURDER AT MONTICELLO
PAY DIRT
MURDER, SHE MEOWED
MURDER ON THE PROWL
CAT ON THE SCENT
SNEAKY PIE’S COOKBOOK FOR MYSTERY LOVERS
PAWING THROUGH THE PAST
CLAWS AND EFFECT
CATCH AS CAT CAN
THE TAIL OF THE TIP-OFF
WHISKER OF EVIL
CAT’S EYEWITNESS
SOUR PUSS
PUSS ’N CAHOOTS
THE PURRFECT MURDER
Books by Rita Mae Brown
THE HAND THAT CRADLES THE ROCK
SONGS TO A HANDSOME WOMAN
THE PLAIN BROWN RAPPER
RUBYFRUIT JUNGLE
IN HER DAY
SIX OF ONE
SOUTHERN DISCOMFORT
SUDDEN DEATH
HIGH HEARTS
STARTING FROM SCRATCH:
A DIFFERENT KIND OF WRITERS’ MANUAL
BINGO
VENUS ENVY
DOLLEY: A NOVEL OF DOLLEY MADISON IN LOVE AND WAR
RIDING SHOTGUN
RITA WILL: MEMOIR OF A LITERARY RABBLE-ROUSER
LOOSE LIPS
OUTFOXED
HOTSPUR
FULL CRY
THE HUNT BALL
THE HOUNDS AND THE FURY
BINGO
A Bantam Book
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Bantam Books hardcover edition published November 1988
Bantam mass market edition / October 1989
Bantam trade paperback edition / July 1999
Bantam trade paperback reissue / February 2008
Published by
Bantam Dell
A Division of Random House, Inc.
New York, New York
Grateful acknowledgment is made to the following for permission to reprint the lyrics from: “Tea for Two” by Vincent Youmans and Irving Caesar. Copyright © 1924 WB Music Corp. & Irving Caesar Music Corp. All rights reserved. Used by permission. “Let’s Do It” by Cole Porter. Copyright © Warner Bros., Inc. (Renewed). All rights reserved. Used by permission.
All rights reserved
Copyright © 1988 by Speakeasy Productions, Inc.
Illustration on this page copyright © 1988 by Laura Maestro
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 88-14143
Bantam Books and the rooster colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
eISBN: 978-0-307-79404-8
www.bantamdell.com
v3.1
Dedicated with Affection
and Remembered Laughter
to
the Class of 1962
Fort Lauderdale High School
Contents
Cover
Other Books by This Author
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Author’s Note
Introduction
Map
Chapter 1 - Flying a Kite: Wednesday … 25 March, 1987
Chapter 2 - A Migraine at Mojo’s: Thursday … 26 March
Chapter 3 - A New Man In Town: Friday … 27 March
Chapter 4 - More Leg: Saturday … 28 March
Chapter 5 - Bumblebee Hill: Sunday … 29 March
Chapter 6 - Hair-Do City: Monday … 30 March
Chapter 7 - My Cheating Heart: Tuesday … 31 March
Chapter 8 - Julia, The Spy: Wednesday … 1 April
Chapter 9 - The Stations of the Cross a Moment with Aunt Louise: Thursday … 2 April
Chapter 10 - The New Madonna at Saint Rose of Lima’s: Friday … 3 April
Chapter 11 - Louise Muscles Nickel: Saturday … 4 April
Chapter 12 - Nickel Makes a Promise To Mr. Pierre: Sunday … 5 April
Chapter 13 - High Fashion Comes to the Clarion: Monday … 6 April
Chapter 14 - Nickel Breaks Her Promise: Tuesday … 7 April
Chapter 15 - Mr. Pierre Is Pissed and Ursie Pays a Call: Wednesday … 8 April
Chapter 16 - Appomattox and Lunch with Michelle: Thursday … 9 April
Chapter 17 - A Love Triangle at Bingo: Friday … 10 April
Chapter 18 - Louise Is Abducted: Saturday … 11 April
Chapter 19 - Fort Sumter Remembered: Sunday … 12 April
Chapter 20 - Nickel Fights with Juts: Monday … 13 April
Chapter 21 - Nickel Bites the Bullet: Tuesday … 14 April
Chapter 22 - Popcorn: Wednesday … 15 April
Chapter 23 - Secrets: Thursday … 16 April
Chapter 24 - Renegade Bingo: Friday … 17 April
Chapter 25 - Ursie Has the Bit In Her Teeth: Saturday … 18 April
Chapter 26 - Blessed Easter: Sunday … 19 April
Chapter 27 - Love Lifted Me: Monday … 20 April
Chapter 28 - Love Lifted Me Higher: Tuesday … 21 April
Chapter 29 - Louise Learns the Ropes: Wednesday … 22 April
Chapter 30 - A Visit to Dad: Thursday … 23 April
Chapter 31 - The Big Day: Friday … 24 April
Chapter 32 - The Hair of the Dog: Saturday … 25 April
Chapter 33 - Jackson Vs. Diz: Sunday … 26 April
Chapter 34 - A Sex Story Breaks at the Clarion: Monday … 27 April
Chapter 35 - Unwelcome Knowledge: Tuesday … 28 April
Chapter 36 - Mother Drops a Bombshell: Wednesday … 29 April
Chap
ter 37 - I Drop a Bombshell Myself: Thursday … 30 April
Chapter 38 - The Clarion Changes Hands: Friday … 1 May
Chapter 39 - Ursula Humbled: Saturday … 2 May
Chapter 40 - Reflections on Martin Luther: Sunday … 3 May
Chapter 41 - Blue Monday: Monday … 4 May
Chapter 42 - Fate: Tuesday … 5 May
Chapter 43 - Overeducated and Unemployed: Wednesday … 6 May
Chapter 44 - Gin: Thursday … 7 May
Chapter 45 - Blowout Bingo: Friday … 8 May
Chapter 46 - The Birth of the Mercury: Saturday … 9 May
Chapter 47 - Here Comes the Bride: Sunday … 10 May
Chapter 48 - Her Mothership: Monday … 14 December
About the Author
AUTHOR’S NOTE
I wish to thank the following people for helping me write Bingo. First and foremost, my researcher, Claudia Garthwaite, deserves my appreciation. She spends a goodly portion of her time buried in the stacks of the library. My agent, Wendy Weil, does all that an agent is supposed to do and more: She makes me laugh. Noirin Lucas, Wendy’s assistant, also contributes to my good spirits. Beverly Lewis, my editor, makes the work so easy for me that I can only wish an editor like her to every writer in America. Bantam’s copy editor, Betsy Cenedella, keeps me in line and gives me grammar lessons. Sally Williams, Judy Hilsinger, and Sandi Mendelson take care of me on the road, and those of you in publishing know that I’m not bragging when I say these are the best publicity people in the business.
Betty Burns does her best to keep me organized.
I must also thank Susan Scott, Cynthia Cooper, Muffin Barnes, Gloria Fennell, and the gang at Darby’s Folly for providing me good companionship and good riding. Special thanks to Ellie Wood Baxter, Carolyn and Ken Chapman, Pat and Kay Butterfield, our wonderful Master, Jill Summers, our president, Paul Summers, and the membership of Farmington Hunt Club for being themselves. Together we can escape the twentieth century.
The unsung heroes of an author’s life also deserve accolades: the sales staff and the telephone sales staff of Bantam Books.
To those of you who have read other novels of mine it will come as no surprise that I must thank the animals in my life. I don’t believe humans should be separate from other forms of living consciousness and I learn from animals. So I thank Cazenovia, Buddha, Sneaky Pie, Pewter, and Muggins, the cats. I thank Juts and Liška, the dogs, and I thank Freebooter and Scribble, my horses. I would also like to thank the horses of friends: Twinkie, Fetch, and Colors.
INTRODUCTION
Since this is a work of fiction, I’ve taken advantage of the freedom of the form. Mentioned within the text are the PTL scandal as well as the Gary Hart scandal. Both events are inaccurately dated. The PTL mess is off by one month and the Hart debacle is off by a few days. Apart from those two news stories, the other events are as found in Facts on File.
One of the chief joys of fiction is that to some extent the reader is a co-creator. In a film or theatrical production you see the people. In a novel or radio show you must imagine them—their voices, their gestures. Every art form has its advantages and disadvantages, and I think having the reader participate is an advantage of fiction.
Apart from the fun of participation, this effort on the reader’s part forms a bond between reader and author which may be akin to the bond between audience and performer in the theater.
I have been fortunate in my readers. Not only do you faithfully buy my novels, you show up by the hundreds and sometimes even thousands to hear me speak and you send me blizzards of fan mail. I am grateful. Who could ask for anything more?
Well, I am going to ask for more. I’m going to ask you to consider carefully your own creativity. Many of you set aside your creativity for “practical” reasons. It isn’t within the scope of an introduction to list painfully why and how people abandon their imaginations but it is within the scope of this introduction to encourage you to find yourself again. You haven’t lost your creativity, your imagination—you’ve simply misplaced it.
There are as many different ways to recover that creativity as there are readers, but allow me to suggest something that will benefit each and every one of you. Keep notes on your own life. Call it a diary if you like but it’s much more than that. Write down or record on tape your observations and emotions as well as the events of your time. Don’t forget your sense of humor while you do this.
If you take even fifteen minutes a day to perform this labor I think your imagination will start cranking up again. For those of you who have managed to hang on to your creativity, this exercise will give you some perspective and insight into yourself and your community.
No one will ever see the world the way you see it. No one will ever have exactly the same experiences in exactly the same sequence. You are unique not just because of your genetic makeup but because of every single thing that has happened to you or that you have caused to happen. Don’t let that consciousness slip off the face of the earth with your death. If you don’t want to share yourself with the living, then leave something behind for those arriving on this troubled planet after you’ve left it.
You might wonder why I’m impassioned about your creativity. There are two reasons for this. The first is that I will be enriched by your creativity. Whether or not you publish a book or sell a painting isn’t what I mean. What I mean is that activating your imagination is going to make you more exciting to yourself and to others. The second reason is that imaginative people forge new solutions to old problems. Right now we need every thinking person to step forward and contribute to a safe and sane future. You are part of that process. I celebrate your contribution.
As always,
Rita Mae Brown
February 28, 1987
Charlottesville, Virginia
1
FLYING A KITE
WEDNESDAY … 25 MARCH, 1987
Run faster.”
“I’m running as fast as I can.” I was too. “Mom, call off Goodyear and Lolly Mabel. I keep tripping over them.”
“Don’t blame it on the dogs. You don’t know how to fly a kite.” Mother did, however, order the dogs to sit by her.
Goodyear, a huge, black male Chow Chow, was originally called Jet Pilot but he grew fatter and fatter, and hence the name Goodyear. Lolly Mabel, his gorgeous red daughter, was my dog, a gift for my birthday two years ago. Lolly and Pewter, my cat, were bosom companions but Pewter didn’t like Goodyear. Not that Goodyear wasn’t the world’s second-best dog, Lolly Mabel being the first, but Mom had taught him to howl and play dead at the mention of her sister’s name, Louise. We had to be careful to call Louise “Wheezie” or “Wheeze” in front of the dog lest Louise discover yet another of her baby sister’s blasphemies. Well, one day I forgot. Luckily, Aunt Louise wasn’t around but Pewter was. When the dreaded name Louise escaped my lips, Goodyear screamed bloody murder, then flopped down “dead.” Pewter, appalled, ran under Mother’s front porch and it took a good hour to coax her out.
The kite shuddered in the air but wouldn’t rise. “Dammit!” I continued to pump my legs.
“Gimme that.” Mother grabbed the string and ran across the lawn. At eighty-two, Julia Ellen Hunsenmeir Smith could still run, and the kite fluted upward. Mother walked backwards now, jerking the string, urging the red kite, with the tail’s many bow ties, higher.
A screech around the corner snapped us away from the graceful sight of the kite to the less graceful sight of Louise taking the corner on two wheels.
“I thought I was going to pick her up. You can’t let her drive.”
“She does what she wants.” Juts observed Louise’s lurching halt in front of her house.
Aunt Louise drove a 1952 Chrysler. Her deceased husband, Paul “Pearlie” Trumbull, hated General Motors, hated the auto business, and hated Detroit. He used to declare that they were nothing better than Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves
and every year they’d jack up the price on cars. As it happened, he was right. “If you want to get back on your feet, miss two car payments” was one of Pearlie’s favorite expressions. Well, he never missed a payment, because he drove his Model A Ford until it died around him, but during those decades he saved and saved and then he went out and bought three identical 1952 Chryslers. He drove the one, intending to use the other two for parts, and he figured that if he took good care of his car, which he did, that Chrysler would be driven by his grandchildren and Detroit be damned.
Except for the tires, which Louise wore out with alarming frequency, the black Chrysler looked spanking new. The door opened and shut with a thud. Louise emerged in her blue-haired glory.
“Well?” she demanded.
“Well, what?” Mother replied.
“Do you like it?” Louise stood motionless like a geriatric Greek statue.
“Like what?” Mother was paying more attention to her kite than to Louise.
“You getting cataracts, Julia? My hair! Do you like my hair!”
“Looks like it does every Wednesday when you hit up the Curl ’n Twirl.”
“It does not! You are blind. Nickel, what do you think?”
On the spot, I fibbed. “I like it fine. It’s a little shorter and more youthful-looking.”
“Thank you. At least someone around here has the courtesy to pay attention to me even if it is only my adopted niece. Blood sister doesn’t pay attention to anyone but herself. What are you doing out here flying a kite, anyway? You’re too old for that stuff.”
“It’s your birthday, so I’d lay off the age jokes.”
“You haven’t even wished me a happy birthday!” The shadow of a pout hung on Louise’s cerise lower lip.
“I was going to wait until the party.” Juts reeled in her kite.
“What’d you get me?”
“Wait until the party.”
“Give it to me now. I don’t like presents in front of strangers.”