Written in 1987, it’s true today. A prose poem.

Bingo at the Redman’s Lodge

You know who I’m talking about, her daughter Andrea graduated same time we did. Her picture’s in the yearbook, it’s a senior photo, same page as Lana’s. Check it out. Andrea’s got a big old mullet and a smile a mile wide.

They live in a single-wide mobile home that was part of her divorce settlement from her first marriage ending in 1976. He worked forty years at the shirt factory. She was a beauty operator at Carla’s Hair Emporium.

He’s got two boys from his first marriage, one’s serving five years for armed robbery, the other married Linda Ann Speck and they had four kids in less than five years. They all have double names like John Ed and Billy Mac.

Her son Ronnie junior joined the ROTC just before his freshman year in high school, then he followed LBJ to Vietnam. His picture’s on the coffee table in the Florida room. His name’s on a wall up in Washington DC.

Andrea left town a couple a years ago. She calls once a month on the second Sunday and doesn’t leave her phone number. But Ednalee acts like she’s right down the street, coming over for a special dinner the very next day.

They’re here every Tuesday night, right before the coffee is ready, always picking through the stack of cards. Hers needs a number 4 under the letter B
and his with a 72 under the letter O, because that’s when he met her

… in 1972.