Finally, he saw his moment. There was one hand where Archibald had been stringing the others along, growing the pot, and Tom was certain he was bluffing. Dave Mather saw it too and in a moment of eagerness, went all in with his last $2,000. Hoodoo, grinning broadly, matched, and Archibald folded with a grunt. Tom called, putting a full third of his cash on the table. Frowning, Crocker took a long time to decide until his companion stomped on his foot under the table and he called as well, putting all but his last fifty dollars in.
Hoodoo laid down a full house, aces high. Tom countered with four jacks. Crocker pouted as he dropped his flush down on the table. Dave Mathers said nothing, but placed his cards face down on the table before folding his arms.
Tom pulled in his winnings, trying not to look greedy.
“Why must you be so mysterious,” said LeGrande to Dave reproachfully. “You don’t have to show us, but we are curious what you had that made you so confident.”
Dave left them face down. “Damned game.”
“So, Lucky,” said Hoodoo Brown, looking at Tom with a suspicious eye. “Where did that red star on the side of your hat come from? Get it off a lawman?”
“I try to stay away from the law, thank you,” Tom replied. In actuality it had been a deputy’s star that he had repurposed, filling in the etching on the star with red paint. “I put the star there to remind me of something.”
“From where you put it, seems like a declaration more than a reminder,” Hoodoo observed.
Tom didn’t reply this time. They played on. A couple of hands later, Tom took Crocker out. This left Tom, Archibald, and Hoodoo still in the game.
Tom now had the obvious upper hand. The other two tried to bait him, but he was used to their tactics now. He let himself lose a few times so they didn’t get too conservative, but he swept in hard twice, taking the last of Hoodoo’s cash. Archibald, who was left with $200, finally conceded victory.
“First round complete. Tom Dunn the winner,” LeGrande said. “We will now break for dinner.”
Tom looked at the sky outside the small windows and realized that half the day was gone. LeGrande’s employee came to retrieve Tom’s winnings and place them back in the safe.
Tom blew his nose into his handkerchief, then stretched and smiled, taking care not to make anyone feel that he was rubbing it in. In truth, he was mainly relieved there hadn’t been any supernatural power struggle. “I suppose my luck held.”
“Luck indeed,” said Hoodoo with a scowl. He brushed past Tom and headed through the door at the back of the coach.
While the employees began to fix small dishes of food in the front of the carriage, LeGrande pulled a cunningly folded ladder down from the ceiling. He headed up through a narrow hatch to speak with his head of security. Dave Mather sat by himself thinking dark thoughts, while Crocker and his black companion sat close together and talked strategy.
Tom took the opportunity to approach Katherine Weiss. “I figured it out,” he said. “It took me awhile, but I finally remembered who you are.”
“Oh?” the redhead asked, coyly. “Was it in San Francisco? Perhaps Denver? I did make a splash there.”
“I would’ve figured it out sooner, but you weren’t so gussied up at the time,” Tom explained. “How’d you make it all the way here from Puerta Muerte, Katie? And what’s your plan? You here because of me? Planning to collect for the Sheriff?”
“I probably came here the same way you did, ‘Lucky’ Dunn,” Katie replied. She stepped closer to him and lowered her voice, her light brown eyes fiery. “And if I was here for you I’d have plenty of reasons! Not only did you leave me tied up next to a burning pile of deeds, you took out my ticket on this ride.”
“What? Snodgrass?” Tom scoffed.
“Had the old man wrapped around my finger!” she hissed. “Thanks to you, I had to sidle up to Hoodoo to get on this coach.”
“Why didn’t you ask me?” Tom replied. “I didn’t have an assistant.”
“I figured you’d have one of your other Red Stars with you.” Katie narrowed her eyes. “Where are they, anyway?”
Tom smiled, so she probably was here after their bounties. “So what’s your angle? If you’re not here after me, what good does it do you to be at this game.”
“Knowledge,” she said with a finger to her temple. “Teddy was gonna give me a cut, but even then I had a buyer willing to pay for the inside workings of this game.” She moved her finger to Tom’s chest and poked him hard. “I’ll make you a deal. Keep your mouth shut about my angle and I’ll keep my mouth shut about the boys you probably got in the hills watchin’ this coach.”
Tom took off his hat and bowed, raising her hand to kiss her knuckles. “My lips are closed.”
Katie jerked her hand out of his grasp and glided away to speak to Dave Mather.
“Believe her?” the Kid said, appearing next to him.
“Nope. You?”
The Kid grinned. “I’m thinkin’ she’s got you in her sights. There’s a trap waitin’ to be sprung and she’s just waitin’ for your friends before springin’ it. Pretty sure it’s got somethin’ to do with that legend. She’s been watchin’ the game on and off, but not stickin’ close to anybody. People are keepin’ their talents quiet too. Seems like somethin’s bound to pop soon.”
The door at the rear of the carriage opened and Hoodoo Brown walked in. He brushed by Tom again on his way to speak with Mr. and Mrs. Clay. Tom wiped his jacket where the man had brushed by, disgusted to find it damp.
“I don’t like that man,” he mumbled.
“If somethin’s gonna happen, I’d bet all my molars he’ll be part of it,” the Kid agreed.
Lucien soon arrived with a covered platter. Tom sat down in a cushioned chair, content to eat alone while he thought through the tangled web he found himself in.
LeGrande returned from his visit up top and, once everyone was finished with their meal, it was time to begin the second round. The seating remained the same and once again, each of the players was given a $5,000 bank.
For the first few hands, things continued much the way they had the first round. Tom’s luck held strong, but he played it safe, seeing where the other players would take things. A short time later, he started to feel woozy. His brow began to sweat.
At first Tom thought that LeGrande’s fancy air cooling system had failed, but everyone else seemed fine. LeGrande even complained of a chilled neck and had one of his men fetch him a scarf. Then Tom’s stomach lurched.
“You alright, Mistah Dunn?” asked Crocker. “You look a mite pale.”
“I’m fine. Thank you,” Tom replied, wondering if something had been wrong with his food. Could Lucien have done something to it?
“That’s it!” said the Kid, appearing suddenly. He was uniformed for war again, but this getup looked older. He wore a short-waisted jacket with long tails in the back and tassels on the shoulders. A triangular hat sat atop his head. “It’s that legend. She’s usin’ her power on you. Now I don’t got to keep mine in check.” He pulled a narrow sword from a sheath at his waist. “This is war!”
The Kid slapped Tom’s shoulder and disappeared again. The pain in Tom’s stomach eased slightly after that, but he was still sweating. The game played on despite a number of strange occurrences.
Lady Clay’s wig began a slow slide that ended when the Kid made a flicking gesture with his fingers. The woman sneezed and her wig fell forward, rolling over her husband’s shoulder and knocking his cards out of his hands face-up on the table, forcing them to re-deal.
As LeGrande passed out the first card, one of the rear legs on his chair snapped, sending the dealer to the ground in a tumble. While the chair was being replaced, Dave Mather left to take a break on the hopper. As he was sitting there, a rock bounced up from the road below and smacked him in the unmentionables. Everyone heard his howl from the table.
At this point, Tom knew that the Kid was out of control. There was nothing he could do to stop him when he
got like this. He focused on the game, wiping his brow with his handkerchief constantly. He was hurting, but at least his luck was still in force.
Tiring of pretense, Tom won four hands in a row in a savage manner, bidding up the pot, surprising Hoodoo Brown and removing a still-sore Dave Mather from the game. Tom pulled in the cash, now clearly in the lead. But he couldn’t celebrate. His bellyache worsened. He feared he might pass out.
“Still gonna fight?” the Kid shouted, and Tom watched with bleary-eyed dismay as his backer appeared in front of the air vent, pointing. Tom’s vision blurred and he saw the figure of a small woman with dirty hair facing the Kid, her arms folded defiantly. She mouthed something that the Kid didn’t like. “Well that’s your mistake! I’m just getting’ started!”
“Don’t!” Tom gasped just as the Kid swung his leg back and made an exaggerated kick at the wall. There was a gut-wrenching grinding noise from within the vent and the air stopped flowing.
The woman smirked and disappeared. At that moment, the pain in Tom’s belly ceased. His color returned and his sweating lessened. It didn’t stop though, as the temperature immediately began to climb.
LeGrande cursed.
“I say. Do we need to stop and fix that?” Mr. Crocker asked.
“No! I will not stop this coach,” LeGrande declared. “Lucien! Davis! Go up and see if something can be done from the outside.”
LeGrande then began to deal the next hand. His two employees pulled the ladder down from the ceiling above. As they climbed up, one of the rungs popped off the ladder. Lucien nearly fell, but gathered himself and made it to the top. They were gone for some time. As the heat built, Hoodoo Brown began to laugh.
“Luck,” he said. “It’s failing all of us right now, except perhaps Mister Dunn here. He depends on it,” he said, pointing to Tom. Hoodoo reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a slim black book. “I prefer to depend on my bible. This is my New Testament. It’s the one I read the most.”
“Just play on, Mister Brown,” complained Archibald. The man had already sweated through the armpits of his white suit.
“Just a minute. I’m sermonizing here,” Hoodoo said, placing a fifty dollar bill in the center of the table. “I raise.” He returned his attention to Tom. “Our Mister Dunn reminds me of someone. You see, he depends on his luck. He sees it as a savior. Unfortunately, luck is a fickle god. One that often turns on you.”
“It’s done me right so far,” Tom replied and once Archibald had matched the bet, he placed a hundred on the table. “Raise you fifty.”
Crocker hesitated, but Irvin nudged him and the southern gentleman matched.
Chuckling, Hoodoo opened his bible and gripped a single page between his thumb and forefinger. “John, chapter 20,” he pronounced and slowly tore the page from the book. He lifted it, showing them a surprisingly clean edge. He threw another fifty on the pot. “I’ll call.”
“I find it quite distressful, a man tearing a page out of the Bible,” complained Lady Clay.
“Then be distressed,” Hoodoo said and began folding the Bible page in a complicated pattern. “Well, what are you gonna do, Archibald?”
The old man discarded two cards and picked up his replacements. “Call.”
“How about you, Thomas?” asked Hoodoo. He folded the paper a few more times and then tore off a small piece.
Tom looked down at the pair of aces in his hand. He discarded the other three and waited for LeGrande to give him replacements. He wiped the sweat from his brow. It was still getting hotter. “What’s your point, Hoodoo?”
Hoodoo lifted up the Bible page and it had now been folded in the shape of a man. “Do you remember John 20?” He pointed to the paper figure’s head where the word Thomas was framed square in the center. “Verses twenty-four through twenty-nine. It’s about Doubting Thomas. Might as well be your namesake. See, Thomas knew his Savior well but, despite all the evidence, he still doubted his divinity in the end. You’ll find yourself doing the same. And when you do, your luck will leave you high and dry.”
The Kid appeared next to Tom. “Careful. I sense major witchery.”
Tom snorted and picked up his replacement cards. He blinked. Three single digit cards. Still, that didn’t matter. He didn’t expect his luck to always be active and a pair of aces wasn’t all that bad. He wouldn’t let the man intimidate him. “I’ll raise a hundred.”
Crocker folded with a sigh. Hoodoo’s grin widened and he matched the bet. So did Archibald.
“Well, Lucky Thomas, what have you got?” Hoodoo asked.
Tom placed his pair of aces down.
Irvin groaned and Crocker smacked his forehead. “I had two pair!”
“Me too,” said Hoodoo and placed down two aces and a pair of nines.
“Kings,” said Archibald, putting down his single pair.
“Whoo!” said Katie, kissing Hoodoo on the head. She gave Tom a gloating look.
Hoodoo raked in the pot and kissed the paper doll. “Like I said before, luck is fickle. Maybe it’s comin’ my way!”
The game continued and as Hoodoo predicted, Tom’s luck faded. He had several junk hands in a row. He was smart about his bets and his cash pile dwindled only slowly, but he couldn’t help but become nervous.
Meanwhile, Hoodoo continued his win streak, taking out first Crocker, then Archibald. Each time he won, he would kiss the paper doll. Finally, it was just the two of them and their cash was just about even. Tom was only up by fifty dollars.
“Whatever witchery he put on you, it’s a bad one,” said the Kid. “I’m trying to think how to fix it. Don’t worry, though. We got time. If you lose this game, you’ll still be in the final one against him. Just gotta understand how he’s makin’ it work.”
Tom didn’t find that comforting. He shouldn’t lose this game. Something like this had never happened to him before. He was still worrying over it when LeGrande started to deal the cards. “Wait!”
“What is it?” LeGrande asked.
“Just give me a second,” Tom said. He stood and began pacing back and forth, rubbing his temples as he tried to figure it out. There was a flaw in the witchery, but where? He knew that his luck was dependent on his belief and that the belief of others made it stronger. But how could he get that back once it had been taken? How had it been taken? Just a simple paper folding trick?
“Mister Dunn, it’s too damn hot to wait around,” said LeGrande wearily. “If you’re not going to the hopper, please be seated.”
Tom cocked his head. That was it. The hopper. A smile spread across his face. He turned back to face the others and sat down. He placed a hundred and a ten in the center of the table, then shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned back. “I’ll ante and raise a hundred.”
“You ain’t even looked at your cards,” said Katie.
“Don’t need to,” he replied. He removed his hands from his pockets and looked at Hoodoo expectantly.
Hoodoo, who had been watching him curiously. looked at his cards and raised an eyebrow. “I’ll call.”
“Any discards?” LeGrande asked.
“Yep.” Tom said, his eyes fixed on his opponent. He picked three cards at random and slid them to the dealer. He ignored the replacements that were slid back to him.
“Really not gonna look?” said the Kid with a chuckle. “Bold move. I like it!”
Hoodoo discarded one card and when he received his replacement, he barked out a laugh. “What now, Lucky Thomas?”
“All in,” said Tom, shoving his cash to the center.
“Are you certain?” said LeGrande, wide eyed.
Hoodoo frowned momentarily in confusion. Then his smile reappeared. “So this is you conceding. You think your luck will be better in the final game.”
“Ohh!” said Katie in understanding. “Just should’ve said so.”
“Nope,” said Tom. “There won’t be a third game because when you match my bet you’re gonna lose for the second time. Want to know why?
Because you’re wrong about me.”
“This is the worst bluff I have ever seen,” remarked Lady Clay.
Hoodoo laughed. “I agree. Very well, Lucky Thomas. I’ll call your bluff.” He shoved his cash into the pot and flipped over his cards. “Four of a kind. Kings!”
Tom didn’t blink. “Here’s the thing. That paper doll that you slipped into my pocket on your way back from the hopper earlier? The one that matches the one you keep kissin’? I got rid of it. It’s sittin’ under the table between your feet.”
Hoodoo glanced under the table, looking slightly concerned when he saw the paper doll resting between his legs. Then his gaze went back to his cards and he regained his confidence.
“One other thing about your Bible story,” Tom said and turned his cards over to reveal a 2-3-4-5-6, all clubs, a straight flush. “My name ain’t Thomas, you idiot. It’s Tomas!”
The Kid dropped to the floor laughing.
There was shocked silence at the table.
“Y-you win,” said LeGrande in disbelief.
“But don’t call me Tomas,” Tom clarified to everyone. “It’s just Tom. Or Lucky, if you prefer.”
Suddenly, the coach’s heavy brakes squealed. Everyone tumbled forward as it came to a shuddering stop. The muffled sound of multiple shots rang from outside the coach.
23: Sometimes Fate Wants a Second Helping
An excerpt from the Tale of Tom Dunn
“Try as you might, there’s a few things in life you can’t escape forever. One is fate. Two is family. Three is the dag-blasted gov’ment. No matter how far you run, son, sooner or later they always come back to bite you.” – Old Jim, town drunk and soothsayer, on his deathbed, surrounded by long lost family, with the tax collector waiting outside the door. Friday, October 13, 1870.
The loss of forward momentum was so abrupt that Hoodoo, Katie, LeGrande and Mr. and Mrs. Clay were toppled out of their chairs. Tom fell forward onto the table, his face in a pile of cash. This was a situation he would usually enjoy if not for the sounds of gunfire outside heralding that they were under attack.
Noose Jumpers: A Mythological Western Page 31
