Gate 24

Chapter Six

As the bingo theme song booms around the entertainment area, I get this feeling of panic; it spirals through me like a helix. Uncontrollable, I clutch onto the metal rod holding the roof to the stage and try to breathe.

This is a security guard stood right here. Entertainment is what I watch in TV, not perform and host the entertainment myself. I'm not one that's ever enjoyed being on the stage. Whenever the school productions went on, I'd always hide in the wings and help make the props, sell the tickets, usher people to their seats.

You can do this Ray. Do it for the others. This is your job now.

As I walk out onto the stage, I hold my head high and throw my shoulders back in an attempt to look confident, optimistic. I’ve always been told that body posture can help you look more confident. Being here, I’ve already witnessed that. Barlow actually looked like he was trying to shrink away from the world when he first saw me and when he collected his food, but on the stage, his confidence was radiant, admirable.

My head remains high as I lift the microphone towards my mouth. Only twice in my lifetime have I made an announcement like this. The first time was at school, when I had to make an opening speech for the Year Eleven leaving assembly. The second time was when I hosted a large leaving party for one of our ex-guards: Dwayne. Dwayne was a great man, but he didn’t really feel like working in this area of security, so he left to pursue a career as a bouncer for a high-priced club; he got the job, so I guess it all paid off.

“Hello, ladies and gentleman,” I boom, receiving silence from the audience. Now, what have I learned from Saturday night television? “Good evening,” I say, making sure that people are paying attention. “How are you all tonight?”

The audience yell back that they’re okay, so I continue on. “So, who’s ready to play some bingo tonight?” This time, the scream is a lot louder. “Wave those bingo tickets up in the air; I wanna see how many of you are playing tonight.” Tickets fly around above the tanned heads of rich holiday makers.

Looking down at my hand, I memorise the cash prize numbers and look back up at the money-hungry vacationers. “So, today, for a line, the cash prize is a whopping €105.20!” I read out, not surprised by the number. On a bad day, it may only be €75 or so, and on a good day, it can reach €130. The crowd cheer, waiting for the big prize announcement. “And for today’s full house, the total you could win is €315.60!” The cheer is magnificent; people go wild at the possibility of winning money. Money is what drives our generation, unfortunately.

As I sit down by the bingo machine – set on zero – I suddenly feel at ease. In this moment, I take a quick glance at Osmond; he mouths a certain word to me: rules. “Oh yes, the rules, how could I forget?” I giggle, receiving similar noises from the crowd. “Now, may the children be quiet? I promise this will only go on for ten minutes or so. I just need to be able to hear the adults and they need to hear me.”

“Also, if you claim after I skip over the final number, your claim will become void and you won’t be able to claim your prize. Please, adults, shout as loudly as you can when claiming your prize. In fact, let’s all yell bingo now, to warm up our voices. On the count of three! One, two, three!” The audience roar the word bingo, deafening me slightly.

“Now, here’s the first number!” I click the small button and watch the digital number thing go mad for a few seconds. “Five and six, fifty six!” I call out, watching a few people grumble and another handful silently cheer as they circle their first number.

“Next up, we have three and seven, thirty seven.” Some people look glum as their eyes dart down to their tickets, free of ink. Others already have two numbers and eagerly await the third number. “The next number is... Two little ducks, twenty two!” Quacks are heard from within the audience, causing me to chuckle. “Thank you, quackers!” This is usually a thing when Frankie does the bingo, I’ve noticed.