Page 66 of The Lineman

“What is the national flower of Scotland?”

Sisi perked up. “Oh! I know this! Thistle!”

I was already writing.

“Actually, it’s the Scotch thistle. There are over two hundred species, so it’s probably best we are as specific as possible.”

Elliot’s mouth fell open.

The answer popped up.

Scotch thistle.

Guys and gals at neighboring tables tossed their answer sheets in frustration. Those who’d thought they’d answered correctly had left off the “Scotch” part, just like we would’ve had I not worked my magic.

Matty gasped. “HE’S A WITCH!”

“BURN HER!” Omar added to the Monty Python imitation.

Sisi slowly turned toward Elliot. “Where the hell did you find this one?”

Elliot smirked, full of pride. “Told you he was smart.”

Next question.

“Who was the first person to reach the South Pole?”

Omar hummed. “I wanna say . . . Shackleton?”

“Amundsen,” I muttered, already writing.

The answer popped up.

Roald Amundsen.

Sisi stood. Physically stood.

Matty slammed his hands on the table and screeched, “WHAT IS HAPPENING?”

The game continued.

“What is the only U.S. state with a one-syllable name?”

I blurted without thinking, “Maine.”

“What’s the rarest blood type in the world?”

“AB,” Elliot said.

“AB negative,” I corrected.

“Who wroteThe Picture of Dorian Gray?”

“Omar something,” Sisi said.

Omar laughed. “Was not me.”

“Oscar Wilde,” I answered.

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