We begin to play, and there are six of us around the table. Manhole introduces two upstanding citizens from the great city of Chicago, and though he gives their names as Little Douglas and Cinnamon Bob, I am recognizing them as members of the mob and know that back in Chicago they go by Rob Roy and the Cologne Kid. Any doubt that might be in my noggin does not linger as in the closeness of the room it is clear how the Cologne Kid gets his name, and it is not cinnamon that I am smelling. The third fellow I also recognize and he recognizes me right back as we have sat with some of the same people in the same restaurants back on Broadway and I only nod when Manhole introduces him as the Duke of Paris. I know him by another name, but it is not a name I will be using here. It is a private game and I am thinking perhaps it is a game that afterwards no one will say ever happened because Manhole introduces Joey Morlock and me as H.G. and Arturo the Hungarian. I am thinking he must have some funny sense of humor with the way he is making up names, but it is his game that we are crashing so I do not make my comments out loud but keep them inside of my head where they will not offend or do me harm. Also in the room with us are Beans McAllister who does not have the potatoes of his own to play, and Miss Caroline Carrock who at the start is still hanging on Manhole but soon moves to a chair behind him and against the window as the game commences. The couple of dolls turn out to be bar hostesses and at Manhole's nod they go about making sure everyone has plenty to drink. Once all the introducing is over Manhole has one of the hostesses pass word to the crew flying the airship and soon after I get this feeling in my stomach like riding a Ferris wheel at the world's fair and we leave terra firma behind and venture into the sky. From my chair I can turn my head to look out the windows on either side, but there is nothing much to look at but the empty blue sky. I do not mind telling you that I am feeling a bit of apprehension, but also admiration as well for Mr. Manhole McGovern discovers a sure way for his card game to avoid a raid by the cops and this is most definitely a good thing as many a high stakes card game has seen shady cops bust in and take away all the potatoes for themselves.
And then it is time to play. It is dealer's choice and I win the first deal so start us with draw poker and that first hand sets the theme for me. I am losing, and with hands which I should rightfully win, but Manhole beats my Straight with a Little Tiger in one hand and in another he smokes my two pairs of aces and fives with a pair of kings and queens and a jack which gives him five face cards which according to Hoyle is a Blaze and he is laughing and taking my potatoes.
Joey Morlock is sitting to my left and when the deal comes to him again he deals a round of stud poker and I am hoping I will do better but it is not to happen. I come up with just a single pair but Manhole beats me playing a four flush, and he does this again and again as we play, one special hand after another taking not only my potatoes but also those belonging to the two citizens of the windy city and my longtime acquaintance from Broadway. But this is okay I say to myself, this is just Jake, because I am learning the Dogs and Tigers, Big and Little, and I have almost got it straight and we are going to be playing for some time so though I do not expect to win as I previously mention, I hope to not lose too shamefully.
But as the cards go around and around I realize that my education in poker is not yet done, not when Manhole McGovern has dealer's choice. Again he reaches into his coat and opens the pages of his book and begins reading to us about other kinds of poker and as he is our host and it is his airship we have little choice but to play them. From just Stud Poker we move to Mexican Stud. And then Shotgun. And then Baseball. And then Double-Barreled Shotgun and Midnight Baseball. We play Cincinnati and Anaconda and Cold Hands and Double Dip and several more games which are poker but not the poker I know and love, and the names of which I can not remember because I can barely remember the rules of each and all of Manhole's special hands too, and I am regretting the drinks I take from the hostesses all unknowingly.
And it is not just me who is having trouble but also the guys from Chicago and the Duke of Paris and I am thinking that maybe if I really go by the moniker of Arturo the Hungarian these games might make more sense to me. I am finding no surprise that Manhole knows these games as his copy of Hoyle shows the wear of many careful readings, but Joey Morlock knows them too, and he is matching Manhole McGovern play for play, game after game, until hours go by and the rest of us surrender our potatoes to one or the other and just sit back in awe for never before do two fellows play the game of poker with such verve and style. And it is especially curious because when Manhole wins it is usually with one of the special hands that are making my head swim, but when Joey wins it is always with a regular hand and never a Big Tiger or a Skip Straight, not once, nor ever with a wild card of a winking Jack or a King with a death wish, but only with regular solid hands. I feel like I am watching the giants of the game and all the time when I look out the window at the empty air I am thinking that if either Joey Morlock or I ever hope to see New York again that he needs to start losing soon. But if this thought crosses Joey Morlock's mind it does not stick there but trickles out his ear for he is winning more often than he is losing and bit by bit he is taking all of Manhole McGovern's potatoes.
By this time the boys from Chicago are dozing in their seats and the hostesses are taking away many empty glasses from them. The Duke of Paris is on my right hand side and is giving me significant types of looks which I read to mean that he is thinking what I am thinking but even the both of us thinking it cannot make Joey Morlock think it.
For most of the game Miss Caroline Carrock is sitting in her chair with her nose in a book, a fact which surprises me some because in my experience your brainier dolls are not such sweet Judys but this is a day for exceptions. During the last hour or so though she is peeking over her pages at Joey Morlock, and usually just after the showdown when he is raking in potatoes that are previously someone else's. I notice this. The Duke of Paris notices this. We notice each other noticing this. Manhole McGovern cannot notice this because Miss Caroline Carrock is sitting behind him and he is not the kind of card player to turn around even if he hears his mother calling fire which is not something you want to hear when you are playing poker onboard an airship. Whether Joey Morlock notices I cannot say though I remember the look he gives her before on the airfield and him saying he is in love. Right now though he looks only to be in love with the cards and the cards are in love with him because he is slowly taking all of Manhole McGovern's potatoes.
It is at this time I believe that the Duke of Paris and I are thinking two things. First, that it is going to end badly for Joey Morlock because Manhole McGovern is surely packing a shooter and will be reclaiming all his potatoes before we are done. And second, that an airship is not the best of places to be in when you are looking to make a quick exit to avoid sharing the lead that is about to be aiming itself at your fellow card player, especially lead from a guy as thorough about such things as I am knowing Manhole McGovern to be.
They are down to playing two card Hurricane and Manhole has put in the last of his potatoes, and the pot is the largest it has been all day. He has nothing left to bet, which is a shame because Joey Morlock does the ungentlemanly thing and raises.
"I find I am short at the moment,” says Manhole. “But surely you will take my marker so that we may play out this hand."
"Do not be taking offense at this,” says Joey Morlock and I am sweating off all the booze I ever drink in my life and going suddenly sober when I hear this because it is likely Manhole is going to take offense and the lead will begin to fly. “Do not be taking offense at this, but I am not from this city of Philadelphia and so cannot accept your marker in good conscience for I do not know when I might come this way again as I am visiting only to enjoy a quiet game of poker which I am doing, and thank you for inviting me."
"If you will not take my marker, then I cannot see your raise."
"If you cannot see my raise, then you must fold and the hand is over and I win. Unless ... is there som
ething else you have of value here?"
Manhole begins to frown and by now even Beans McAllister realizes what the Duke of Paris and I long since know, and is looking for a place to hide but there is none. But this is when we get ourselves a reprieve.
"I will wager you this airship,” says Manhole McGovern, and everyone sighs with relief that the lead is not yet flying, except for the boys from Chicago who are snoring, and Miss Caroline Carrock who by now is no longer even pretending to read her book but is watching Joey Morlock with keen interest and a funny look in her eye. And I am thinking that maybe we will not all die today because at the offer of the airship Joey Morlock's eyes glaze over again and I know he is picturing himself as a character in one of his scientific romances and surely this distraction will make him lose.
"I accept the wager,” says Joey, all breathy like.
"Hah!” says Manhole McGovern and he lays down his cards showing a pair of Kings. Now in Hurricane this is a very difficult hand to beat and so it is not surprising to anyone that Manhole is reaching for all the potatoes in the pot to pull them back to his side of the table.
"I do not think so,” says Joey Morlock as he turns his cards over revealing a pair of bullets, intending no irony I am sure. He gently disengages Manhole's hands from the pot and rakes the potatoes back to his side leaving nothing at all on the other except Manhole McGovern who is staring down at his pair of kings with astonishment.
"I do not believe I lost,” says Manhole.
"It is a very near thing,” says Joey, which is a pretty sympathetic thing to say, considering, but will not keep us all from being thoroughly dead if Manhole McGovern is even one tenth the bad sport I hear him to be.
"One more hand!"
"I would, and gladly,” says Joey Morlock, “only you do not have anything left to bet."
I notice that Miss Caroline Carrock is looking Joey Morlock's way and her eyes are getting all moist with interest because surely she has never seen anyone take all of Manhole McGovern's potatoes from him in a poker game and for some reason she finds this very attractive.
"One hand,” Manhole says again, but Joey shakes his head. Well, this is apparently too much for Manhole and he finally does what the rest of us have been expecting him to do which is to pull a heater from his pocket and aim the business end at Joey Morlock's chest across the table.
Joey is sitting there, his eyes still glazing because now he has his very own airship and maybe does not yet see he is about to own nothing but a funeral plot and maybe a nice new headstone if Manhole McGovern is feeling generous. Or maybe not, because he only shrugs and says, “If you shoot me, you still will not beat me at cards."
This just makes Manhole even madder and he is pounding the card table with the heater now and it is a miracle he does not accidentally spray lead around the room. Instead, he begins to shout. “One. More. Hand."
"What will you bet?"
Which is when Manhole McGovern jumps up from his chair, grabs hold of the arm of Miss Caroline Carrock and hauls her over to the card table and says, “I will bet you my doll here."
"What is the game?” says Joey Morlock.
"Simple poker, no draw, nothing wild. Just five cards down, winner take all."
Joey Morlock just nods and reaches for the deck of cards and starts shuffling. Manhole McGovern puts his heater away then cuts the deck, all the while keeping one hand tight on Miss Caroline Carrock's arm and it is clear to all of us that this is one Judy who does not like being a wager in a not-so-friendly game of cards, but at the same time she is making eyes at Joey Morlock as if to say it is not such a bad thing if he wins her. Joey does not even notice though. He deals out the cards but when he is done he does not pick his up. Manhole turns his cards over and I am breathing the proverbial sigh of relief, which echoes from the Duke of Paris and Beans McAllister, for we are looking at a Straight Flush and thinking we are all going to live to see another day.
"What do you have?” says Manhole, but Joey still does not pick up his cards and he does not turn them over. Instead, he stands up and walks across the room and stands by the door where we come in and he lays his hand upon the fancy brass handle.
"What do you have?” says Manhole again, and he is getting up from his chair and bellowing at Joey Morlock. “What do you have?” He reaches across the table and flips over Joey's cards and stares at them. I stare too. So does the Duke of Paris and even Beans McAllister. From where I am sitting, it appears that Joey has a Flush, which is a fine hand to have, though it cannot beat a Straight Flush. But Manhole McGovern must see something different because his face begins to change color, going from red to purple to umber and he is turning and yelling and charging at Joey across the room. And this is when Joey Morlock opens the door and steps lightly to the side. Manhole is moving fast, but the room is not so big and he is moving not so fast that he cannot stop himself from racing out the door. But Joey is standing there with one hand still on the handle and he reaches out with his other hand and grabs hold of Manhole McGovern's lapel and gives such a yank as pulls him forward another couple steps. Now this is unfortunate but still not tragic, as Manhole McGovern's feet are inside the room and all is fine. Except Joey puts his foot out, right where Manhole's foot is about to be, and Manhole trips and stumbles forward another couple steps which is about one step too many and he is gone, out the door, out of the room, and out of the airship, at which point Joey Morlock closes the door again and steps back to the card table.
Beans McAllister is in shock and cannot speak. The Duke of Paris is likewise in shock and cannot speak. The hostesses are feeling the most shock and they are cowering by the other door. Miss Caroline Carrock does not say word one, but I do not believe she is in shock because she rushes to Joey Morlock's side and slips her arm through his and I am thinking she has been wanting and waiting for something to happen to Manhole McGovern for a very long while. I go to Joey and before I can ask him what is transpiring he catches my eye and points to his hand still face up on the card table. I look at it again. It is still just a flush to my eyes, the nine, seven, five, trey, and deuce of hearts. Clearly there is something here I do not comprehend and it shows on my face and the Duke of Paris comes up and points out what I am missing.
"It is one of Manhole's special hands,” he says. “It is a Skeet Flush, a nine and five and deuce with two cards in between, which always beats a straight flush."
While we are looking at the cards Joey Morlock is looking at Miss Caroline Carrock and it does not surprise me that he has that glazy look in his eyes again and she is staring at him with the same kind of look. He takes her by the hand and leads her to the other door which he opens and I hear him telling the crew to land the airship as soon as is convenient.
"Excuse me,” I says, reluctant to break into my friend's bit of paradise as he seems to have the girl and the airship and all the potatoes, but one thing is still gnawing at me and I know I will not have any peace if I do not get an answer. “You got up and never once do you look at your cards. How is it you know it is the winning hand?"
But Joey Morlock does not answer as he is too busy gazing out the window with his arm around his new doll, and this reminds me again that he is the luckiest guy I know. Instead the Duke of Paris comes up to me and gives out with an explanation which makes no sense to me.
"He knows because of the cards,” says the Duke of Paris. “The cards tell him so."
"Tell him?” I says. “How can the cards tell him? Cards do not talk. They do not whisper. They do not so much as yammer or jaw."
"That is not altogether true,” says Joey Morlock without turning away from the window. “Any card player will tell you, the cards speak for themselves."
The End
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