Suited for Luck

by Daniel Schinhofen

“Fuck that cock-loving asshole!” Otto snapped. “Sorry, dear... sorry. He’s backed out three times now. You know as well as I do how he views non-humans.”

  “But... our poor Sonya...” the woman sobbed.

  That sob broke Doc’s silence. Removing the towel, he sat up to find the dwarven couple embracing each other. “Pardon me. I know it’s not my place, but I might be able to help.”

  They both turned to look at him. The wife was looking at him with hopeful eyes, but Otto’s expression was doubtful. “How would you do that?”

  “I know it sounds horrible and I’d ask you to keep it quiet, please. I have a small ability to heal that is faith-based. I can’t say it would help, but I can’t stand the thought of a child in pain and a mother crying.”

  “Would you?”

  “Greta!” Otto said quickly, trying to stop her.

  “No, Otto, let him try. Faith magic shouldn’t interfere with Whittaker, and Henrick’s salve is uncertain,” Greta firmly insisted.

  Otto stared at his wife for a moment before sighing. “Fine, stranger. But know this: if you hurt her, you’ll be paying in every way I can make it happen.”

  “Understood,” Doc said as he got out of the chair. “Please, ma’am, show me the way?”

  Otto stood there glaring at him as Greta led him down the hall. It’ll be okay, it’ll be okay... Doc kept that mantra running through his head while he followed her.

  Up a set of stairs, they arrived in the front room of the apartment above the shop. Another hallway led them to a door, where Greta asked him to wait. Leaning against the wall, he waited, hearing murmuring voices and people shuffling around.

  “Come in,” Greta said a couple of minutes later.

  The room was spartan; bed, armoire, desk, table, two chairs, and two small portraits, one on the wall and one on the desk. Sitting at the table was a dwarven female, her black hair pulled back and held in place by two combs. Face pale and her eyes red and wet, she had obviously been crying recently. Her left arm was wrapped in a soiled and discolored bandage.

  “Excuse me, miss,” Doc said formally, “I’m Doc Holyday. I’m going to try and help you, if you’re okay with that?”

  Tears trickled from Sonya’s eyes and she gave him a nod. “If you can make it stop hurting, please...”

  Crossing to her, Doc knelt on one knee. “Can we unwrap the bandage?”

  “I should clean it,” Greta said. Moving over, she began unwrapping it. “I’ll get the clean linen,” she said.

  Doc stared at the gash on the dwarf’s arm with worry. The fluid oozing from it was an obvious sign of infection. Please just be an infection, I know that killed a lot of people in the old days, but if it’s just an infection, I might have a chance.

  Taking a deep breath, Doc triggered healing hands. “Lady, please help Sonya,” Doc said as his hands began to glow. He touched her arm above and below the infection, instantly knowing what was wrong with her.

  Okay, infection is there, but there is a sliver of metal in the wound that’s causing it all. Cramps from menstrual…? Didn’t need to know that, but there it is. Her forearm is badly broken and is setting badly. That’s where the pain she is feeling is coming from. Not even sure I could heal a broken bone, but she needs to have it broken again and set correctly… focus, Doc. Heal the infection and remove the sliver first.

  Pushing his energy into her arm, the wound started to heal, and an inch-long piece of metal came to the surface of her arm. Doc removed it and watched the wound close, feeling his energy pouring into it.

  Sonya stiffened as she watched the wound fade. Her eyes were wide, her mouth falling open. “Oh goodness, it’s healing.”

  When the wound finished healing, Doc leaned back and took a few deep breaths. “Okay, the infection that would’ve killed you is dealt with, but the pain is still there, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but I think it’s lessened some,” she replied.

  Greta came rushing back into the room with clean linen in her hands. “Okay, I have the linen…” She trailed off when she saw the faded scar on Sonya’s arm. “It… it worked.”

  “The infection is gone,” Doc said, holding out the metal sliver. “This was in the wound. What happened to her?”

  “She was helping my brother,” Greta said, a tinge of anger coloring her words. “His experiment didn’t work and it crushed her arm. We’ve been trying to get Doctor Whittaker to come by to help since the accident.”

  “The pain she’s feeling is her bone. It’s badly fractured and not healing right. The bone is impinging on the nerves, which is what’s causing her pain. I could try helping with it.”

  Both women stared at him as if he was trying to sell them the moon.

  “How much?” Greta asked firmly.

  “It’s not a money issue,” Doc said. “I’m just not sure I can do it. Faith in Lady Luck is in short supply— the healing comes from her. I’m just her Voice.”

  “Will you try?” Sonya asked him hopefully, tears falling from her eyes.

  Taking a deep breath, Doc nodded. “I’ll try. Hard paths have to be walked.”

  “Thank you,” her sincerity was palpable.

  “I might pass out from doing this,” Doc told Greta.

  “We’ll make sure you’re cared for,” Greta said quickly.

  “Okay,” Doc said, shifting forward again. “Lady, Sonya needs more... please help her,” he said as he again triggered healing hands.

  Greta’s breath caught in her throat as she watched his hands glow. She almost objected when he reached for her daughter, but Sonya looked hopeful, so she quieted her objection.

  Doc focused solely on her forearm and tried to press his energy into the break. Seconds ticked by and Doc felt his energy slip away. The break started to shift as he poured everything he could into it. He smiled because he knew he could do it, but just as that thought came to him, he felt himself start to breathe heavier. Thinking of his stats, he pulled up his information screen.

  Fuck... energy is gone and vitality is draining, Doc thought as he pushed more into Sonya’s arm. The break was healing— he could feel it. The only thing he was unsure of was if he would manage it before he used up everything he had.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A cool damp cloth was the first thing Doc registered when he woke up. His head was pounding, but the cool cloth helped. A soft feminine voice was singing a sad tune as gentle fingers delicately stroked his hair.

  “Have they left us alone? Will they never return? Our future is dark without the brightness of the gods.”

  Cracking one eye open, Doc grunted as the light hit him like a heated sledge. “Oww.”

  “You’re awake,” the woman stopped singing, but didn’t move her hand. “The pain is gone, sir. I have you to thank for that... you and your Lady, right?”

  “Luck,” Doc whispered, his voice rough. “Lady Luck.”

  “Was it Luck that brought you to our home?” Otto’s voice was tinged with doubt.

  “Luck brought me to this town,” Doc replied a little more clearly, the pain starting to subside. “Needing a shave is what brought me to your shop the other day when Whittaker dismissed healing your daughter. Another shave is what brought me in again today... maybe it was Luck that made it the right time to help her.”

  “Father, you’re being mean! He healed me. I have full use of my hand again. The pain is gone, and the infection is, as well,” Sonya rebuked her father.

  “Husband,” Greta said sternly, “we are better than that. Or will you lower us to the standards of hum—” She cut off suddenly, her eyes going to Doc.

  Doc snorted and tried to give her a smile. “Damned humans. They ruin everything. I wouldn’t deal with them if I could get away with it.”

  A giggle brought his eyes to Sonya, who was kneeling next to his head. “You’re rather funny. Thank you, Mr. Holyday, for saving my arm and my life.”

  Doc was able to get a good look at her now that the room was brightly lit. Her color was
healthy, her smile bright, and her brown eyes twinkled at him. Maybe eighteen? I wonder if that’s considered adult for dwarves?

  “I do what Luck would have of me, but doing what I did violates a number of this town’s laws. I trust you’ll all disregard them for me?” Doc asked as he tried sitting up.

  “None of us will say a word,” Greta said firmly. “You’ll also be given free service in the shop for life.”

  Otto grimaced, but nodded. “My daughter’s life is worth much more than that. I’d like to pay you what we would have Whittaker, if that is amenable.”

  “That would dim the name of Luck,” Doc replied. “All I ask is that you say a thank you in her name. It was her power that healed your daughter— I was merely her Voice to bring her power to bear.”

  “I will always say a prayer to her,” Sonya said softly, helping him into a sitting position.

  “You’re new to town, aren’t you?” Otto asked bluntly.

  “Not even here a week… wait, what time is it?” Grabbing his pocket watch, he popped it open. “Hell, I’m late!”

  “Late? For what?” Sonya asked, holding out a hand to pull him to his feet.

  “Business,” Doc grunted as he wobbled. Taking a deep breath, he waited for the room to stop spinning, glad that Sonya had taken his arm.

  “With who?” Otto asked.

  “Lia.”

  Doc detected a drop in temperature when he said the name. “I’m showing her dealers a new game of poker,” he clarified.

  “Oh, we apologize for not understanding,” Greta said.

  “I was supposed to be there already,” Doc said, taking a step toward the stairs.

  “I’ll help him, daughter,” Otto said, taking his arm from Sonya.

  Sonya looked down. “Of course, father.” When she let go of Doc’s arm, she caught his eyes for a moment. “Thank you again.”

  “Glad to help those who will have faith in Luck,” Doc replied.

  Otto walked him down to the shop and toward the door. “My daughter is impressionable. You’ll not be seeing her again, right?”

  “I have no intentions to see your daughter,” Doc told him.

  “Good,” Otto grunted as he unbolted the door and yanked it open.

  Grange stood on the doorstep, looking upset. “Otto, I was wondering why you weren’t open. Is there a problem?” His eyes focused on Doc as he asked the question.

  “No. We’ve worked out the... momentary issue.” Otto coughed, “Come back tomorrow and I’ll have the bath ready for you then, sir.”

  “Of course,” Doc said, catching on. “My apologies for causing any concern. Sheriff, please excuse me.” Doc nodded politely at him, unable to leave with the big man taking up the entire doorway.

  Grange snorted and stepped aside, “I’m keeping my eye on you, Holyday.”

  “If you need to,” Doc said and gripped one of the posts holding up the awning as a wave of vertigo washed over him. “I do hope that won’t stop you from seeing other troubles.”

  Grange grunted as he entered the barbershop. “Otto, I need a shave—” The rest of the sentence was cut off as the door closed.

  Doc took a deep breath, steadying himself before he started for the Lily.

  Doc kept moving slowly and occasionally wobbling. He leaned on buildings as needed, but kept putting one foot in front of the other. He ignored the comments of the passersby that could see him, sneeringly calling him a drunk.

  Making his way inside the Lily, he found Fiala waiting for him with a worried expression. “Doc, what happened? Are you drunk?”

  “No,” Doc replied, “I’m exhausted.”

  “What happened?”

  “Later, please, I’m already late,” Doc said. “If you can help me to the back and maybe see about some food and drink?”

  “Yes, of course,” Fiala said, taking his arm over her shoulders.

  Westin watched them go with a curious expression, but didn’t comment.

  The doors to the dining room were open and Doc could see everyone already seated at the table. Lia was explaining how the game was different, but when she spotted him, she stopped talking. Her sharp eyes took in his condition and her lips dropped into a disapproving frown.

  “Well, Holyday, I’m so glad you could make it,” she said frostily.

  “Sorry for the delay,” Doc grunted as Fiala eased him into a chair. “I didn’t expect to be late. I was busy helping someone, and well... this is how it ended.”

  “Drunk?” Wenn asked.

  “Bone-tired,” Doc corrected. “I’ll breathe on you if you want.”

  “Pass,” Wenn said. “I see it now. I saw you two hours ago, and it takes longer than that to get that tired even if you were mining by yourself. So how in tarnation did that happen?”

  “Long story,” Doc snorted. “I can take over, Madam Lia, if you’re okay with that?”

  Lia had snapped her fan open at his explanation, most of her face hidden behind it. “I apologize for my tone. I would like to know more later, if that’s okay. Please, we’re all here to learn. You know Joey and Dillon. But I don’t think you’ve spoken to Jeb or Bubba,” she motioned to two other men dressed in dealer’s aprons, “or my good friend, Patrick Walker.”

  Doc gave all the men nods, taking in the expensive suit Walker wore. “Gentlemen, let’s get to it. This is going to be a long explanation, as it is.”

  “I have the food and some coffee,” Fiala said, coming back into the room with a plate of meat, cheese, and a hunk of bread.

  “Thank you, Fiala,” Doc smiled. “If you can shut the door, I’ll start teaching you all hold’em.”

  ~*~*~

  Doc was feeling a little better with some food and coffee in him. Everyone picked up the basics of the game fairly easily, but when he tried to explain the pot rake, he had to go over it a couple of times.

  “Why not just collect an ante like the other games?” Walker asked bluntly.

  “As I said, any hand that doesn’t get to the flop is free for the players. It makes people feel like they are getting more value out of it. The rake can be set at different rates, but five percent was pretty standard. Hands in hold’em tend to run longer, and the only ones who pay are whoever wins the pot. Them complaining makes the others less likely to feel any sympathy. You can also set a maximum to the rake to make it feel better for the players, as well.”

  “There are other ways, though, yes?” Lia asked.

  “For this game, the normal ante becomes the big and small blinds… basically, forced bets. Big is the normal ante, and small is half that amount. The dealer button there,” Doc said, pointing to the button on the table in front of one of the men, “moves around the table one spot for each different hand. The person sitting to the left of the dealer button is the small blind, and the next is the big blind. It helps to stop dead hands and ensures that there’s always a pot. Or you could do a timed rake where everyone at the table chips in a set amount on the hour. However, your stingier players will get up for a few minutes just before the rake if you do that.”

  “Percentage rake is better for the house overall,” Wenn said. “It also doesn’t feel like much if it’s only taken at the end unless it was a bad pot.”

  “Exactly,” Doc nodded. “For tournaments, you don’t rake— this is only for live games. You just hold out ten or twenty percent of the buy-in.”

  “I understand that,” Walker nodded. “Even agree with it. That money pays for the dealers and running the games.”

  “With the extra being profit for the house. Considering how much people drink when they play, you’re also going to find the revenue from the players going up as they keep drinking. I’d say have one or two girls dedicated just to serving the tables during a tournament.”

  “I agree,” Lia nodded.

  “Now that you understand how the rake works for live games, the last thing for me to teach you is the difference between no limit and limit,” Doc smiled. “These two games are different beasts for a
reason. Everyone understands the concept of no limit, right?”

  “They can bet up to their whole stack,” Joey said.

  “Yes, which means any hand can instantly become a monster, and a tournament can change quickly with that mechanic. Being able to read your opponents and knowing when they are bluffing in no limit can make you very rich, very quickly.”

  “But in limit, how do you define the limit?” Fiala asked.

  “One to three pre-flop, and one to six after,” Doc said. “The bets are based on the big blind amount. Before the flop, it can only be raised up to three times the amount of the big blind. For the penny table, that would be a four-cent max on the first raise, seven on the second, and ten on the last raise. After the flop, it changes to up to six times the amount of the big blind.”